“What the hell are we waiting for?” I say, getting more annoyed by the minute. We were supposed to meet our distribution team half an hour ago at the West dock, and they have yet to arrive. I don’t like being kept waiting, and an example will have to be made if they take any longer.
“Mr. Milazzo,” Jonathan, my subordinate, points toward the harbor, where our ship is coming in. I nod, thanking him for the head’s up, but still check my watch quite theatrically. I know they’re spying on me with the telescope in the control room, and I hope they see me.
The boat gets closer, and I squint, realizing that I don’t recognize anyone on board.
“Get down!” I yell, turning to see Jonathan get shot in the leg, falling to the wooden dock.
Bullets begin flying, and I dive behind a trash can near the railing of the pier, and Gianni makes it behind another. We give each other a confused look before I hear several men jump from the ship onto the dock. I jump out from my crouched position as soon as one of them makes it to me, and I shoot him in the chest, causing him to slump to the ground. I hit another man who is just climbing off the boat, and Gianni pegs off two more. The only person left was the driver of the boat, but neither of us could see him.
“Check on Jonathan,” I say, pointing my head towards his slumped body. I hold my gun at eye level as I make my way down onto the ship, the loud reverberation of my weight on the hull making my presence known. “Come out, wherever you are.”
“Fuck off,” a voice says suddenly, and a man pops his head up next to me and slams his gun into my shoulder, pulling the trigger. I exhale through gritted teeth at the burning pain, but I don’t have time to focus on it. Before he can shoot me somewhere else, I yank the piece from his hand and use the bottom of my Glock to smash his jaw in. He falls to the ground, attempting to crawl off, and I pop one last bullet into his skull.
“Matias, we have to go,” Gianni calls to me, and I jog back to the front of the boat, jumping back onto the dock. I look at the mess we’ve made and shake my head, grasping my shoulder, before noticing that Gianni is holding his side and hissing out a sharp breath.
“What happened?” I mumble.
“Stabbed by that dipshit,” he points his gun at the first guy I’d shot. I should have made sure he was dead. “We need to get Jonathan to a medic and get home.”
“You’re going to need some serious work done, Gianni.”
“I’m fine. You know I’ve been through tenfold. Now, help me carry him to the car. I called another driver, and someone will be here to clean this up soon,” he gestures to the bodies left astray and I peer at the men before Gianni ushers me away, trying to figure out if I recognize any of them from rival gangs. Nobody I’ve worked with, or against for that matter, would be so brazen. And so fucking dim-witted to show up here and think they could kill me.
I try my hardest to get my injured subordinate into the back of the black car that’s arrived right on time. I climb in after him, and we drive him to the private medical center before getting dropped off at home.
I don’t notice until we pull through the front gates of the estate how faint I’m actually feeling. I look down to the wound I attempted to plug with the fabric of my shirt, and the blood is pooling rapidly.
“We need to get you inside, Matias. Does Sophie know first aid?” He strains, and I know he’s in as much, if not more pain than I’m in, but I can’t get myself to physically help him as he drags me from the car and up the front stairs. “Damn it, boy, you didn’t get shot in your legs. Use them.”
