Episode 112

Episode 112

Rest In Peace

MADAM ALANA

"Ultimately, I want to see you suffer the way I did," Angus growled, pulled his hand out of his jacket, and pointed a gun at Christophe's head. "But it's not enough. I want to watch you as I destroy the one person you love above any other." His corresponding smile was evil incarnate.

"No!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as a shot rang out.

Angus' body jolted, his eyes bulging with surprise as he dropped the gun, blood pooling at his shoulder. He covered his wound with his free hand as I watched Bianca stand, pull a gun from a thigh holster, and point it at me.

"You fucking bitch! Now, you die!"

Gunshots roared through the restaurant as men crashed through the windows. Every single waiter pulled out their hidden guns and started shooting at the invaders.

The room exploded with the sounds of breaking glass, gunshots, people fighting, tables being knocked over, chairs tossed this way and that.

It was madness.

Bianca turned from pointing her gun at me and started shooting wildly at Diego's men. She looked like a pregnant Tomb Raider as she pulled another gun from her other thigh and shot double fisted.

I watched in horror as she was hit at the top of her chest between her breast and clavicle, blood blooming across the front of her dress.

"The baby!" I screamed to anyone that would listen. The plan was never to kill Bianca or harm the baby. Brenden's baby.

Christophe heard my plea and tackled Bianca sideways, before she was riddled with more bullets, using his body to protect her.

Angus flipped the table, grabbed me by the ankle and pulled me toward him. I fell to the ground amongst the broken dishes and glassware. His bulky frame moved so fast, within a second, he'd straddled me and pinned me to the ground behind the table as gunshots blasted everywhere.

"You little cunt! You planned this." He pointed the gun at my face, pressing the nozzle straight to my forehead, digging the metal into my skull. "If she dies, I'll kill every single person you've ever known!" He swore, spit spattering my face.

"You did this! You and your revenge! You only have yourself to blame!" I screeched through my teeth, struggling against his hold. He battled me as I reached up to his shoulder where blood seeped out and pushed my thumb into the wound as hard as I could.

He roared in pain, his gun hand shaking. I pressed with all my might and used every ounce of strength within my body to roll him off of me, while screaming for help. His gun went off several times, blasting into the wall behind us.

Suddenly the table was shoved away, and standing there amongst all chaos was my savior. A halo of light shining behind his dark features.

ángel de la Muerte.

The Angel of Death.

He pointed a massive, shiny silver gun straight at Angus. A menacing, dare I say handsome, smile on his face.

"Go back to hell, demon," he muttered and then fired.

The bullet went straight into Angus' forehead, right between his eyes.

I heard Bianca shriek like a wounded animal, fighting against Christophe's hold. Someone had divested her of her dueling guns and was currently zip tying her hands together.

I crab walked backward until I hit the wall.

Angel reached out his hand. Bullets were flying but not a single one came near him. It was a miracle.

I took his hand as though it were my lifeline, and he hauled me up and against his chest. He lifted me off my feet and ran toward the kitchen, bullets still flying.

"No! Christophe!" I roared, struggling against Angel's vise grip.

He got me to the kitchen and set me down on one of the metal counters.

"Guard her!" he snapped and then disappeared like a puff of smoke.

Mamá came over to me, gun in her hand. She put her free hand on my knee.

"You are safe," she said in heavily accented English while patting my leg.

My entire body trembled as gunshots blasted nonstop in the other room.

Someone pushed through the double doors and before I could even turn my head to see who it was, Mamá had already fired two shots, dropping the man like a hot rock.

"Safe," she patted my knee again and kept her guard. " ?Hambrienta?" she asked.

"I don't know that word?"

"Hungry?" she asked in English.

What in the world? She wants me to eat right now? The woman was nuts. Then again, she was the mother of a very violent mafia group. I didn't imagine much affected her. I shook my head numbly.

Another person raced in from a back door yelling, " Mamá !"

Mamá spun around just as a second person, this one huge, white, and armed with a big gun barreled through the door after the first person.

Mamá raised her gun like an expert marksman and shot right past one of her own son's heads and put two slugs into the attacker. He dropped right there. She pulled a gun from a kitchen drawer that had several more guns in it, boxes of ammo…and was that a grenade rolling around in the drawer like an old battery in a junk drawer? She tossed one of the guns to her son.

" ?Gracias Mamá! " he said, kissed her cheek, checked the weapon making a bunch of clicking sounds and then headed for the double doors, gun raised. I realized in my frightened haze that I recognized the man as Javier.

"Christophe! Please get him, Javier!" I begged.

He kicked the dead man aside and scouted out the restaurant, looking both ways before grinning at me and nodding succinctly. Then he also re-entered the shootout.

My entire body trembled, likely going into shock, as I clung to the edge of the counter where I sat.

Mamá started to hum, and then casually went over to a pot on the stove and stirred it. One hand holding a wooden ladle, the other a loaded gun.

What had I gotten myself into? I covered my face with my hands as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

The noises started to lessen, only a couple shots here and there.

My terrified mind went straight to better times.

Meeting Christophe at the auction over thirty years ago.

The view of the Grand Canyon.

Celine's laughter and smile.

Christophe's paintings.

The line of little rocks I placed all along the window sill in our ensuite bathroom back in France, reminding me of the places I'd visited that were special.

Rachel and Lewis Myers' wedding.

Emily's birth.

Brenden's first baseball game.

The day Maia tried to steal my bracelet, and I took her under my wing.

Savannah's wedding.

Hearing that Dakota was having twins.

Julianne's wedding to Giovanni.

So many beautiful moments I'd been given. None more beautiful than the love I shared with my husband.

"Christophe," I sobbed into my hands.

"I'm here!" he said as he pushed a bleeding, hobbling Bianca toward a small seating area. She slumped into the chair and promptly passed out, her head against the back of the wall, hand on her protruding belly.

I jumped off the counter and threw my arms around Christophe. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," I chanted, hugging him so tight my arms shook with the effort.

He rubbed his hands up and down my back. "I am fine, mon coeur ," he whispered and placed a series of gentle kisses all over my face.

"We need to get Bianca medical help," I said.

Mamá pointed her gun at Bianca and shook her head. "No! She dies."

"She's pregnant with my godson's child!" I snapped, and shifted so that I was standing in front of her, Mamá's gun raised to take Bianca out once and for all.

"Bad seed." Mamá scowled and shook her head.

I held up my hand in a stopping motion. "I don't care!" I pointed to Bianca's belly. "That child is mi familia! "

Mamá frowned. "?Familia?"

"Sí." I shuddered. "No kill."

Mamá snarled. "Bad seed. Bad human." Then she let the gun fall to her side and went back over to her pot. She snapped her fingers, and Christophe and I turned toward her.

"Taste?" she ordered, pointing at Christophe and then her pot.

"Sweet love, she wants you to taste her food." I couldn't deal with Mamá anymore, rushing instead to grab at the stack of folded white towels I saw across the room on a shelf.

I brought the stack over to Bianca and pressed two of them over her bullet wound to stanch the blood flow. I could see she was breathing but it was labored.

"She needs a doctor!" I hollered.

We heard a commotion near the back door, then a single gunshot before a man entered.

Mamá had her gun up and ready to fire but didn't.

Diego grinned at his mother, holding up both hands, even the one with a gun.

"Oh, thank God!" I cried. "Diego, Bianca needs a doctor right now!"

His gaze went from his mother then to me and to Bianca. He had his gun drawn in a nanosecond, pointing straight at Bianca.

"No!" I screamed and once again put myself in the line of danger for a woman that didn't deserve to live. But that didn't mean her child wasn't innocent. "The baby is my family," I reiterated.

Diego's entire face turned murderous. "You want her to live? After everything she did?"

"The baby didn't do anything," I pointed at her protruding stomach.

"Bad seed." Mamá repeated with a cluck of her tongue.

"Shut up, Mamá !" I snapped, anger and fear flooding my veins.

Diego's eyebrows rose as a couple men I recognized entered the kitchen through the double doors. Angel leading the way. He glanced at Diego who still had his gun pointed at me as I stood protecting Bianca. I stupidly had my arms and legs spread out as though my small body could do anything to prevent Diego from killing her if he truly wanted to.

"Stop him, Angel. He wants to kill Bianca and the baby!"

"Brother, since when do we kill children?" Angel rumbled, not a speck of emotion crossing his features. "Women we treat equally. If they commit the crime against us, they deserve it. No bebés. That is too far, my brother."

Diego let his gun drop to his side and nodded. " Verdad." True. He muttered sounding unhappy with the reminder .

I could relate. I wanted the woman to cease to exist. But I also wanted her child, Brenden's child , protected even more.

"What do you want to do with her?" Diego asked while tucking his gun into his shoulder holster.

"I want her to pay for her crimes. I want justice. And when the time comes, our family wants that child," I demanded on a huff.

Diego rubbed his jaw back and forth. "Angel, what do we have on her?"

Angel leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze never leaving Bianca. "Everything. My team wired the table. We have all of their confessions recorded."

" Bien . Patch her up and drop her at the hospital. Have your men watching from a distance. Send the recordings to…"

"I can bring them to Inspector Moreau." I offered.

"You're going to have to have a great story, Reina de Las Vegas, about how you came across this information." Angel smirked as he called me The Queen of Las Vegas.

Diego crossed his big arms over one another. "This is what will happen. We will clean up the hotel. There won't be a single trace of what occurred here today. You will tell the authorities that you were in hiding. They found you and shared all their nasty deeds. There was a scuffle, and you and Christophe ran away. You don't know how she got shot. Give us a week to accomplish this before meeting with the inspector."

I nodded. "What if she tells them what happened?" My voice cracked.

He shook his head. "She won't. That's not how this works. If she wants to stay alive in prison, she'll keep her mouth shut. As the daughter of a mafia boss, she knows better."

"That's it? She'll just keep quiet?" I scoffed.

"Trust me," Diego cocked an eyebrow.

"And what about the gunshots, the people that died here?" I pointed at the two dead bodies littering the floor.

"What gunshots? We heard fireworks for the wedding we were hosting. Did you not see them light up the sky?"

"You're kidding?" I gaped.

Angel offered me the slightest smile, practically nonexistent. "You really must have been scared to not have heard them. The entire neighborhood watched them, cheering during the finale," he ran his thumb across his bottom lip.

I shivered as my teeth started clacking.

"She's going into shock, we need to get her out of here," Christophe stated.

Diego whistled loudly, and a couple more of his men entered the kitchen. "Take the pregnant woman to the hospital and notify the authorities that she's there through an anonymous tip. They have a warrant for her arrest as she fled the US after being let out on bail. Then keep an eye on her."

" Sí jefe ," they responded unanimously.

One of them gestured to me to let go of the pressure I was putting on Bianca's chest wound and took over. The other lifted her bottom half as they carried her through the back door.

Christophe pulled me against his side. "Where do we go now?" he asked Diego.

"There's a car and two of my men that will take you to my estate," Diego said. "Clean up, rest, and we'll discuss things in more detail when I'm done here."

We were led through the back of the restaurant, and as promised, Javier and another man I didn't recognize were waiting for us. Javier held the door open. Blood was spattered across his white dress shirt, and I winced at the sight of it.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

He shook his head and gave me a soft smile. "No, Madam. Please, let me take you home."

"Home is outside of Paris," I mumbled.

"Then let me take you to our home to heal."

"I'm not hurt…" I croaked, tears spilling down my cheeks.

"Your mind is." He pointed at my forehead and then to my heart. "Your heart is."

"I guess you're right."

He grinned. "I always am, but don't tell my brothers." He winked and then held the back passenger side door open for us.

Christophe urged me inside the vehicle, and I reacted on autopilot, my entire existence feeling wired and raw. I was having trouble going over all that had happened today within my own mind, including my part in all of it.

All I knew for certain was that Angus was dead.

He could never hurt us again.

Bianca had been shot but was breathing when they left to take her to the hospital.

I said a silent prayer the baby would make it. If Bianca survived, she'd go to jail for the rest of her life.

It was finally over.

The Myers, the Falcos, and my dearest friend Celine could finally rest in peace.