The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(108)



“You offering to take them out?”

“We could’ve died and left our kids orphans so yeah, if it came down to it, I’d be the first in line,” she says, her face set in stone.

Another man may have laughed at his wife’s offer to take out the people responsible but not me. I didn’t doubt, given the opportunity, Adrianna would take out the enemy. She’s a fighter, been fighting for what she loves since she was fifteen years old, since she met me.

What I’m saying is I know you will have a part in this and I’m okay with it, just as long as you raise all sorts of hell and get every last one but you come home to me. You come back and you tuck our kids into bed and love me because if I ever lose you I’ll lose me too.”

I open my mouth but she silences me with a finger.

“Just need your promise, Bianci,” she whispers softly. “No explanations.”

“I promise,” I say against her finger and watch her nod in satisfaction. She drops her hand and a smile forms across her perfect mouth. A little chuckle escapes next and I think it’s happening—she’s going to lose her cool.

What’s so funny?” I cautiously ask.

“I was just thinking back to that night I went looking for you, the night I found you in the gym...do you remember?”

“Yeah,” I say, wondering where she’s going with this.

“We were so worried about simply being Anthony and Adrianna but we’ll never just be Anthony and Adrianna, will we? I’ll always be the mobster’s daughter and you will always be his enforcer. We can be parents, we can be gym owners but at the end of the day we will always be Anthony and Adrianna and the mob will always be the foundation our family was built upon.”

If today was any indication, she was right There will always be something that pulls us back, reminding us who we are and what we’re capable of. Today it was a bomb, tomorrow it’ll be when the mailman forgets to deliver her Amazon package and twenty years from now it’ll be when Victoria brings home a boyfriend.

I press my lips to hers gently, sealing our fate and the truth. We’ll never be ordinary.

“Now, let’s call our kids,” I say against her mouth.

She pulls back and dials the house, placing the call on speaker. My mother answers and instantly praises Jesus, cursing Jack, going through the whole spiel on how everyone I’m associated with has a death wish. Finally, she puts Luca on the phone and everything is right with the world again.

he terror we survived fades.

Revenge does too.

All that exists is the two innocent people who don’t know how ugly the world truly is.

And I hope they never do.





Chapter Forty-Three




“Mr. Petra, the x-rays show you have five broken ribs. As I’m sure you know there isn’t much we can do but give you something for the pain—” the doctor says, reading the films.

“No,” I say, cutting him off as I throw my legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t need anything,” I grunt, cringing as I slide off the bed.

“We’ll give you Motrin—” he begins again.

“I said no. I’m a recovering addict so if all I got is a few broken ribs I’ll survive. Now, I need to get out of this bed,” I tell him, pushing the hair away from my face so he can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I’ll deal with the pain by not being kept away from the people who need me so how about you go get my discharge papers and stop wasting my time,” I say, my patience running thin.

“Do you realize you’ve suffered a traumatic experience? You survived a bomb,” he replies incredulously.

“I’m well aware of what I survived, and the bomb is one of many on a list of lethal things,” I tell him as I grab my blood stained shirt and try to put it on. “If you won’t discharge me, I’ll sign myself out.”

Giving up on the shirt, I toss it onto the bed and grab my leather jacket. I mask the pain in my ribs as I shrug it on and tip my head to the doctor.

“If you’ve got some time on your hands, there’s a pregnant woman who’s in labor, a deaf man with burns, another one with two broken legs, should I could continue?”

I didn’t give him the opportunity to answer, pushing back the curtain of the triage cubicle. I walk passed him and straight into the chaos of the emergency room. And chaos it was. I don’t know if they were understaffed or if collectively we had too many injuries, but doctors, nurses and attendants ran around from cubicle to cubicle, treating the victims.

At the compound I was too consumed with making sure Lacey was okay to take in the destruction, but seeing the magnitude of devastation antagonized me, planting the seeds of revenge in my mind.

Images of Ronan flash in front of my eyes, the bomb strapped to his chest, the horror reflected in his eyes as he steps further into the clubhouse. The sound of the explosion rings in my ears and I fight against my natural instincts to flee the hospital and go hunt for the men responsible for this.

“Blackie,” Lacey calls, pulling me out of my vengeful thoughts. I blink to clear my vision and focus on my girl. Staring at her doesn’t alleviate the dire need for revenge, if anything it broadens it. She looks exhausted, a million miles away and hanging on by a thread. The stitches on her eyebrow and the dried up blood along her hair line doesn’t help matters.

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