The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3)(4)

David let out a shocked laugh of disbelief, as though he couldn’t believe it was that easy. His grip loosened when she landed on her ass on the bathroom tile in a pile of broken glass and wine.

She gave him about half a second to gloat in his misogynist, arrogant belief that his silly, twentysomething trophy wife would go down that effortlessly.

Then she punched him in the balls with all the strength CrossFit training five days a week had earned her. She scrambled to her feet when he doubled over, but couldn’t get out the bathroom door before he grabbed her leg. Her cheek smacked against the sink when she fell, making her vision haze out from the pain as she coughed and struggled to regain her breath after nearly being choked to death.

She kicked back in retaliation, catching him in the nose with her sneaker. David howled in response, because if there was one thing Brianna knew how to do, it was kick.

Then she jumped to her feet once more and ran out of the bathroom.

Regardless of how tired she was before, it felt as if she had just sucked down five macchiatos. She was out of the apartment and down the hallway before she heard David coming after her, but he drank too much expensive wine, ate too much rich food, and had gotten a little too thick as of late to keep up with her.

She ran past the elevator and went for the emergency stairs.

Brianna threw the door open and started taking the stairs like there was a fire on the seventeenth floor. After five flights she grabbed the railings on either side and lifted her feet. She slid all the way down like she had when she was eighteen. In a weird way, she could almost hear Tino and Carina behind her, laughing and encouraging her, because the two of them were always just as fit and prone to finding trouble in the most inconspicuous of places.

When she hit the landing, it was like she could feel the memory at her heels, motivating her, reminding her she still had something to fight for. David never had a chance to catch her. She literally glided down the last thirteen floors and then burst out into the lobby, making the doorman jump in surprise.

“Are you okay?” Greg asked, looking at her with wide eyes.

She didn’t answer, because she saw the two men standing outside, trying to look casual, but she could spot mafia from a mile away. She’d grown up around them. She’d been in love with one since she was a teenager. Tino probably wrote the rule book they were following, because she could tell these guys weren’t enforcers. They didn’t have the same chilling confidence of the mafia’s grim reapers, but they were certainly muscle sent to get a job done, and a fool with a gun could shoot her as easily as a trained killer could.

Brianna just stood there, staring at the hit men dressed in jeans and leather jackets. That was a bad sign. Usually mafia preferred suits, unless they were doing the dirty work. She knew they’d spotted her, and worse, she recognized one of them. She couldn’t place his name, but she knew she’d seen him the last time she’d visited Carina’s grandfather with her.

As crazy as it was, everything David said was true. Aldo Moretti had been part of this horrible scheme. They’d been pawns all along.

Tino’s voice from the past echoed in her consciousness.

“Anyone ever pulls a gun on you, you run, Bri. Run as fast as you can. It’s hard to hit a moving target. Trust me on this.”

Brianna glanced behind her as one of the men opened the door to her building. She knew there was no other way out, so she made the crazy decision to charge right at them. Never let it be said she didn’t have the balls of a born-and-bred New Yorker.

As she ran to the door and certain demise, she screamed.

Really loudly.

With the lungs that she’d been training since she was a kid.

The one thing mafia avoided above all else was accidentally drawing attention to themselves. Most of them had been taught since birth to be secretive. To stay in the shadows. To never make themselves a target and possibly hurt the Borgata, which was an unforgivable sin in mafia families.

Nothing like a screeching redhead on the curb in Midtown to have both men backing up like she had the plague. She didn’t look back. She just kept running toward Broadway.

It started raining harder.

After a few blocks, despite the adrenaline pumping through her system, she was forced to notice she’d forgotten her jacket. Her jeans were heavy, but her sneakers were serving her well. Still she was shivering, either from fear or freezing her ass in the chilly midnight air.

Likely a combination of both.

She looked back and didn’t see anyone following her. Not knowing how long she had until a large black vehicle pulled up in very mafia-like fashion, she ducked into the next building.

The doorman looked affronted as Brianna stood there dripping on his floor.

“I just need to make a phone call.” She pushed her soaked hair away from her face and looked at him pleadingly. “Gimme five minutes.”

“Are you in trouble?” he asked in concern.

She shook her head but looked past the door, watching the traffic.

Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Fortunately, she was a very practical New York girl, who didn’t like purses. She had a wallet in her phone case, and if she needed money, she had some.

She hesitated as she stared at the last text from Carina, knowing it was Carina’s family trying to have her killed. She didn’t like that she was hesitating, but she was.

Then, before she could change her mind, she texted.