Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(81)

Flipping the liquor bottle around, he snatches it by the neck and swings hard, like a baseball bat, slamming the guy to his right in the head with it.

BAM.

The bottle shatters, glass scattering, vodka saturating the room as the guy falls limp. Knocked out. The guy to Lorenzo’s left grabs him, to try to stop him, but there’s not much he can do to ward off what’s happening. Still clutching the neck of the broken bottle, Lorenzo turns, not hesitating at all as he lunges, stabbing, the jagged glass plunging through the side of the guy’s neck.

The guy gurgles, gasping, panicked, and yanks the bottle out. Mistake. Big fucking mistake. Blood spurts from the wound, shooting out like a water fountain, not stopping even as he grasps his neck, holding tightly.

Lorenzo shoves the guy off the couch, unfazed as the blood splatters him.

Seconds. Mere seconds. If I would’ve blinked, I would’ve missed it all. Kassian reacts, shoving up out of the chair in alarm. His fingers wind tightly through my hair, forcing me to my feet, pulling me against him as he steps back, away from the table, putting some distance between the men. I cry out as pain radiates along my scalp, feeling like he’s ripping out clumps of hair. His hands shift, arm winding around my neck, putting me in a headlock from behind, my body shielding part of his.

Lorenzo’s on his feet, pulling a gun from beneath his shirt. He cocks it, aiming at Kassian. Aiming at me. My heart races.

“Hiding behind a woman?” Lorenzo asks. “Kind of a dick move, isn’t it, Jabba?”

“Sentimental fool,” Kassian says. “You would not risk hurting your precious Scarlet. You do not have the guts to pull the trigger.”

BANG.

The moment Kassian says it, a gunshot lights up the room. I scream, startled, my ears ringing as a bullet flies right by me. So close. Too close. Lorenzo didn’t flinch, didn’t move, not a flicker of emotion on his face when he pulled the fucking trigger.

Kassian shoves me, moving, trying to dodge the gunshot. Or maybe he’s trying to throw me into it, I don’t know. I don’t know. All I know is seconds later, in another blink, there’s movement. The guy on the couch, the one Lorenzo smacked with the bottle, comes to with a jolt, the loud bang rousing him back to consciousness.

Lorenzo doesn’t notice. The guy is in his blind spot.

“Lorenzo!” I scream.

Kassian’s hand clamps down on my mouth as he pins me against him, hissing, “Stupid girl, shut up.”

Lorenzo turns just as the guy hits him, fists swinging. Oh god. Lorenzo fires a shot that misses entirely, the bullet hitting the mantle over the fireplace, ricocheting my direction. I cry out into Kassian’s palm, panicked, my vision blurring, struggling to break free but it’s not working.

They start going at it, hitting, grabbing, the gun ripped from Lorenzo’s grasp and kicked across the floor. My stomach drops. Lorenzo’s at a disadvantage, not only because of his blind spot, but because Kassian’s guys are built for this. They’re trained to disarm, to subdue, to inflict pain...

“You see that?” Kassian whispers in my ear. “He is weak, your little plaything. He cannot save you.”

Lorenzo puts up one hell of a fight, using everything he’s got, but it isn’t long until he’s knocked down, dropping to his knees. Blood streams from his busted mouth as he breathes heavily.

My heart damn near stops.

“Aw, look at that, suka,” Kassian says. “Now you get to watch him take his last breath.”

I struggle, flailing, kicking my legs, swinging my arms. I throw my head back, slamming into Kassian’s chin, my elbow jabbing him in the rib, but it’s still not enough.

Fuck this.

I bite him.

My teeth clamp down on his palm. He rips his hand away from my mouth, cursing, and shoves me, throwing me to the floor by the fireplace.

I wince, my ankle twisting in the goddamn heels as I land... hard.

“Stay,” he barks, glaring at me, furious. Turning away, he stalks over to Lorenzo, shaking the hand that I bit before he snatches the gun from the floor. He steps right in front of Lorenzo, raising the gun, pointing it at his forehead. “It is a shame it has come to this, Mister Scar. You and I could have been friends.”

Lorenzo says nothing, just staring up at him, his tongue slowly running along his busted lip.

“But friends do not steal from each other,” Kassian continues. “My friends do not try to take what is mine. I may let them have a taste, from time to time, but the suka belongs to me. She is not theirs, and she is certainly not yours. The stupid girl, she does not know what is good for her. She let you believe you could keep her, she let you have parts of her that were not hers to give away, and that, Scar, is why we can never be friends.”

Anger flows through every syllable from Kassian’s lips, his hand shaking as he grips the gun. He doesn’t use them. He prefers his bare hands. But his finger is on the trigger, and I know he’s going to pull it. Any fucking second, the gunshot is going to echo through the air.

No. No. No.

Frantic, my eyes dart around, my mind working fast, looking for a way out. Where are Lorenzo’s guys? Where’d Declan go? Where are the others? Where’s Seven? Why aren’t they here, protecting him? Why is nobody doing anything to stop this?

Why isn’t Lorenzo fighting?

It makes no sense.