ALESSANDRO: Book 3 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

19:

The motorbike roars, tyres eating the gravel as it races past the trees. The frosty air whips past my ears, the little girl sat sandwiched between Leone's and my body shivers with either fear or the chill in the air; probably both.

Dylan-at such a young age-saw a person die. This life exposed her to the horrors of death, the violent aspects of the gang life which put her in harms way. This life isn't meant for a toddler. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone, the fact that she had to witness such murderous and evil things reminds me of...

Me.

I saw the exact same thing. At two did I get my first dagger. By three I learnt how to throw it. Look how messed up I've become due to my lack of a childhood. You can sugarcoat traumatic experiences with teddy bears and tiaras, however the traumatic experience is still there. Until you forget. But nobody ever forgets.

From the tree line I see two ominous silhouettes racing and dodging trees with incredible speed and accuracy. Their bikes seem inferior to our monstrous one, however they are two and we are singular. Leone seems to see this too and accelerates, causing Dyl to let out a cry and me to tighten my grip.

Biting my tongue I pull out the pistol stashed in my pocket and try and aim, however it's nearly impossible with the trees blocking the path. I retract my arm and look around to see how I can help. Without thinking I dive into Leone's pocket and take out his phone, swiping to unlock it. Who doesn't lock their phone?

I dial Toro's number and it rings, the continuous and almost taunting tone puts me on edge, the adrenaline coursing through my veins causing my arm to shake as I pray that someone picks up.

"Hello?" Comes Chloe's slur.

"Chloe! Where is Toro?!"

"Table dancing... why?"

"Where is Topo?!"

"Next to me, sober," she huffs. "He's no fun Ang, what a downer."

"I need you to put him on the phone."

The bike swerves and nearly hits a tree as a single, rattling bullet pierces the air and hits the tree next to us. Fucking Russians.

"Yellow?"

"I need you to get everyone to safety," I blurt out. "The Russians attacked again, Leone, Dylan and I are trying to get out but you need to get to safety before breaking all of your phones so they can't track you."

I can hear the hesitation in his voice as his breathing increases, "Okay."

"Stay safe."

"Yeah."

I end the call and launch the phone at an incoming tree. It shatters and collects on the ground in pieces.

Leone launches us into a road, skids so it aligns with the correct direction before pushing onwards, the tyre wheel leaving a heated arc on the tarmac.

I see the bikers incoming, raising the pistol I wait until they break the tree line. They break. With years of practise behind the trigger, I pull and watch as the bullet soars through the air and into his chest, rupturing his heart and causing his entire body to fly off of the bike. The motorcycle wobbles midair and falls, spiralling off behind us somewhere as the other cyclist remains parallel with us, trying to stay balanced meanwhile shooting wildly.

"Stay low, I whisper to Dylan as I kick out with my leg hitting him square in the hip. Blessed with long legs.

The biker tilts dangerously right, nearly hitting the floor however manages to right himself, but creates more distance between us. Thankfully I was already a step ahead of the figure dressed in black leather, shooting a bullet into his side.

The person falls.

I put the gun on safety and pocket it, pecking Dylan on her head- only she recoils. My chest aches as I realise that I murdered another two people in front of her. Instead I just hold the small body safely and securely, however not enough to cause her anymore distress.

She won't understand, she won't get that those people were trying to kill us. All she saw was her aunt kill those innocent bikers. All she saw was her aunt be evil.

Leone drives, and drives, and drives for god knows how long. However by the time he stops driving and when we're out of the city, the sun has risen bringing no warmth with it, only another perilous and icy wind.

I know we are out of the city, somewhere far out and unpopulated due to the vast landscape surrounding us. The frost blankets the fields in a thin, icy sheet. The occasional tree sways with broken spirit, arthritic arms groaning under the chilled winds that knife their bark armour.

I've lost feeling in my legs, the adrenaline wearing off has exposed me to the real climate and how thin pyjamas doss little to provide warmth. My joints have stiffened to a stop, I'm pretty sure if a shift I'll hear creaking over the roar of the bike.

"H-how far?!" I yell, my voice stuttering with the cold.

Leone doesn't reply, rather turns off into a dirt path, the 'road' bumpy and uncomfortable to drive on.

We approach a small, dull tin shack with a dull, turquoise roof and four dull walls. As we close in Leone slows to a stop, the little girl between our body rocking with each jolt.

He turns the keys and the bike shuts off, shifts forward slightly only to have Dylan slump up against him; I wrap my arms around her sleeping form and with what little energy I have left, will myself to keep her stable as the gang leader gets off. He takes her from me and I follow, melancholy and tired meanwhile alert and- afraid.

"Wheel the bike in with me," he commands, voice gruff and authoritative.

Too tired to say anything else, I do as he says, pushing it in with all of my might into the shed.

It's a tip, a disorganised disaster that would cause people with OCD to throw a fit. I kick the stand once it's in, Leone with one arm carries his niece whilst with the other goes through the rubbish searching for something. Once he's found the 'something' he indicates the door and I shut it.

He double checks Dylan before giving a tired sigh. He pulls the ominous object.