A Touch of Sin |18+|

49

*this is a repost bc it got deleted*

VALERIO

The absolute fear that ran through me was unfathomable, but the anger I felt was so intense that it nearly blinded me.

I didn't care about who it was or what they wanted, and I certainly didn't care about taking a life when I grabbed my gun. Not in Alani's house. Never. My mind went to her immediately, and that's what drove me to the decision to snap the safety off.

I cocked it, letting my finger hit the trigger immediately. It happened too fast and I barely had time to see the person I was shooting at, but I didn't miss.

The bullet hit the culprit chest, a loud scream following shortly afterwards before he fell to the floor. The gun dropped out of his limp gloved hand, resting aimlessly on the wooden floor. My eyes were zeroed on him, consumed by a rage that I was yet to experience—up until that day.

Shooting at Alani's house? I was pissed, and I made it my life's mission to spill the blood of whoever the fuck it was.

I stepped over the fallen furniture, heading over to the body with my gun at my side.

He was on his back, his face covered in a black balaclava but it couldn't hide the liquid seeping through the material around the mouth area. I got him, but he was still alive and choking on his own blood.

I bent down, latching onto the balaclava to pull it off his face. The man coughed, and a mixture of saliva and blood dribbled down the sides of his cheeks. I scoffed, recognising the gang symbol on the side of his neck. It wasn't a tattoo, but an engraving on the skin that turned into scarred flesh.

A symbol from the same gang that killed Naomi.

He coughed again, raising his head with much difficultly and he looked at me. There was no fear in his eyes, but he couldn't conceal the pain he felt. This was a man with an agenda, and it was either killing me or Alani.

Whatever it was, his attempt was going to be the last thing he ever did.

"You killed my father—" He croaked.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," I said through gritted teeth, pointing the muzzle of my gun flush against his forehead. I pulled the trigger, not in the mood to listen to the soppy story he was about to lay out on me.

I knew who he was only because I was the one responsible for killing his shitty father. The same man who had shot a pregnant woman and left her for dead. In my head, I had done the world a favour by ridding it of his only son.

The bullet melted through his head like butter, hitting the floor below him.

Fuck. I damaged her floors.

His dead body went slack, his eyes remaining open and lifeless. I glared down at him, my anger twisting into annoyance at the unnecessary fucking mess. With Alonzo finally gone, I wasn't as vigilant as before and I was angry at myself for it. I was always alert, but I must have gotten too comfortable that I didn't see a fucking rookie following us.

If anything happened to Alani...

Finally, I glanced over at Alani—my anger toning down to a mere simmer as the worry outweighed it by far.

When I saw her leaning against the wall as she clutched onto a bleeding forearm—I felt my entire body tense. She was hurt and it took me two seconds to reach her.

Alani winced, her hand pressed into the wound but blood slipped past her fingers and dripped onto the floor. It wasn't killing someone a moment ago that had my heart pumping furiously, but it was seeing her pain-stricken face and her desperately trying to stop the bleeding that had me feeling as if the world was ending.