The Four Brothers ~ Completed

Capítulo Vinte e Um: Os Pistoleiros

Gemma's POV:

I froze as the first gunshot went off. When the second one echoed through the house, I rolled off the couch and under the table.

Petrified screams filled the air all around me. Footsteps were racing down the hall. I could only assume they were staff members fleeing for their lives.

I pushed myself out from under the table, rushing to the fireplace with a quick glance around the room. I grabbed an fire iron and hefted it in my hands. The thing had some weight, enough weight to knock someone off their feet at least.

Knocking them off their feet was all I needed.

I fled from the room, following the herd of screaming men and women. They were running from the danger, or towards an exit. I only wanted to find my brothers. I knew they would be more than capable of protecting me from some idiot with a gun, but I also had a few questions that needed answers.

Like when, how, who, and what the hell.

I turned down the hall that Tobias's office was on, running as fast as my feet could take me. My legs and lungs burned from the exertion, my hands trembling with fear, my breathing panicked and shallow.

I opened the door to Tobias's office, only to see that the office had been ransacked. Someone was looking for something. From the bullet holes in the ceiling, it seemed that this was the first place the gunmen had searched.

This meant I was right behind them.

And the gunmen had probably found Tobias, sitting behind his desk as always.

I could only fear what they'd done to him.

Perhaps I should've feared what Tobias had done to them.

"Де дівчинка?" (Where is the little girl) I heard someone yell from down the hall. I ducked under Tobias's desk, holding my breath and praying the strangers couldn't hear my pounding heart.

Ukrainian?

Why were Ukrainians looking for me?

Didn't Tobias say that he'd been at war with the Ukrainians?

Oh boy.

The footsteps faded and I peeked out from behind the desk. The doors to the office were wide open, showing eight different men talking amongst themselves. They were all wearing dark, tactical clothing. They were also carrying AR-15's, but each had a pistol strapped to their thigh. It looked like some of the men even had knives of them.

The most cliche black masks ever were pulled over their faces.

And then something happened.

I wasn't sure where it came from, but a knife sliced through the air and then through the spine of one of the men. I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep in my gasp.

A blur flashed past the room, knocking men in its path. The blur stopped and my jaw dropped open as my thoughts whirled around my mind in a frenzy.

Damian.

He had a knife in one hand, the blade slick with blood. The crimson liquid dripping from the blade scared the other men clad in black, but they didn't back down. They charged. Damian had killed one, which meant seven were attacking him at the same time.

Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of Damian getting overpowered and hurt. My hand tightened around the fire iron, ready to jump into the fray and help. But then I saw what was happening.

Damian was twisting and dancing and smiling. This was a game to him. He didn't even had a scratch on him. The only blood on him was that of those he killed.

He threw the knife with terrifying accuracy, the blade slicing through the air. The knife embedded itself deep in a gunman's eye, sending up a spray of blood. Damian calmly plucked one of the men who were attacking him from the fray and snapped his neck, his face never changing from a tiny smile.

He was a blur of movement, but the next thing I knew, two more men were down and dead.

Four down, four to go.

Damian moved faster than I expected any human to be able to. Three more men collapsed, their chests still and eyes widened in fear and surprise.

The last man was shaking, his knees nearly hitting each other as he trembled.

"I didn't... I'll tell you anything..." The man begged, dropping his pistol. The gun hit the ground with a thud but Damian paid it no attention.

His attention was on the man in front of him.

"I know you will. But so will a dozen others, who didn't come into my brother's home and endanger my sisters life." Damian said, a cold smirk twisting his lips. The man gasped out a prayer in horror, then another beg.

Damian's fingers curled around the man's throat, and then there was a spray of blood.

Damian ripped out his throat.

I clamped my hand over my mouth even tighter, terrified of making any type of sound.

Damian disregarded the blood soaking into the carpet and his shoes and his clothes, disregarded the blood covering his face, and disregarded the bodies as he stepped over them.

He wasn't even out of breath.

Logically, I knew I should've been horrified, should've been terrified of monster my brother was. But I also knew that these men, these strangers, had come into our home and tried to kill innocents. I knew, better than anyone, that such actions couldn't stand.

Especially when it's the Perigoso home.

I climbed out from under the desk, maybe, ten minutes later. The shock of witnessing what I just witnessed was wearing off and reality was starting to set in.

My brother had some type of training that allowed him to kill easily. Allowed him to kill like... Like he'd done it before.

God, I was an idiot.

He didn't have a home, he always had a job waiting on him, he was graceful, his senses were better than most, he was slightly insane, and not to mention his reflexes were superb. And he hated to talk about where he got his money from.

My brother was a hit-man.

My brother was a goddamned hit-man.

What the hell?

I ran a hand through my hair before swallowing down my doubts and stepping into the hall.

I didn't know what was going to happen next, but I did know one thing.

I came from one strange family.