Adriana's POV
"Fuck!" I screamed, glaring down at the bullet wound.
I hissed at the pain as I tried applying pressure on the bullet hole, but blood still poured out of it. Just then, My eyes picked the sight of the car keys at the foot of the acceleration. The shooting stopped and I could hear them walk closer to the car.
"Is she dead?" I heard one of them call out.
Unfortunately for you, I'm not.
I shoved the key into the ignition, twisting with force, the car roared to life and with full force, I hit my foot on the gas and the tyres made screeching noise as the car sped forward. A few shots fired at the car, but it had no impact.
Looking through the rear mirror, I could see them hopping into a van and I grinned at the opportunity. I knew that If I started a cat and mouse chase with them, I might end up bleeding to death with a bullet still stuck in my torso. My gaze shifted down at the bullet wound again.
Suddenly, I hit my foot against the brakes, my body jerked forward as the car came to a sudden stop. My hand jerked the gear to reverse and hit my foot on the gas again. With one hand on the steering wheel, I turned my head around, focusing my eyes on the assailant's van as the car sped backwards.
An horrific crashing noise filled the midnight atmosphere as I rammed the booth of the car into them, sending their van off balance, they tumbled a few times before coming to a stop against a nearby tree.
My actions were barbaric, almost animalistic, but these are the kind of things I do to survive my killers. Survival was my only option now. I needed to survive in order to avenge my father. Most importantly, I needed to be able to protect the one I love most.
Lifting my blood stained head from the steering wheel. I staggered out of the car, my feet tapping against the cold asphalt as I made my way towards the destroyed upside down van. Everyone of them was dead except for one that crawled out of the crash, groaning in pain and covered in his own blood.
His eyes glared up at me, filled with disgust and hate. He tried to reach for his gun, but I simply kicked it out of his reach. Flipping him onto his back, I placed my foot on his chest and aimed my gun at his face, tempted with the urge to kill him without questioning.
"I have a question for you." I glared at him, trying to control my finger from squeezing the trigger.
"Oh bitch." He chuckled and then continued. "If you ever think you're going to get shit out of me, you might as well shoot me now, cause I ain't no fucking rat."
I sighed deeply and wiped the strands of hair covering my eyes. "Nicholas John Gonzalez, the next words that come out of your mouth are going to determine if Martha and Joanne, living in New Jersey, are going to live or not."
I watched as his eyes went wide in surprise. Of course I knew his family's location and almost all the workers under my father's payroll. I had all their personal information with me, a job I did well for my father in case any of them decides to steal company property.
"Now tell me, what is my brother planning?"
He was silent for a moment before later nodding in response to my demand. Tears rolled down his eyes and I was almost starting to feel pity for him.
"The boss wa—" I stomped on his chest, causing him to let out a violent cough.
"My brother is no boss, he's just a naive and selfish little prick. There was only one boss and that was my father, if you ever address Francesco as boss again, I'm going to put a bullet inside your skull."
He gulped down before continuing. "F—Francesco wants us to kill you and then make it look like the Irish did it. There are so many of our men who are still loyal to you and your father, Francesco wants to break them and bring them to his side. He wants t—"
"He wants to destroy the peace we are creating with the Irish. He hated the Irish." I completed his sentence for him. Pinching the bridge of my nose and tapping the side of the gun gently against my forehead.
That little prick. Someone has to kill him one of these days.
"Go on."
He cleared his throat before speaking. "We also know that the Irish have a large shipment of heroin heading to their secret warehouse, our men are en route to hijack it as we speak….."
The rest of his words faded to my ears. My eyes were gradually becoming blurry, while the bullet still stinged inside me. I have lost too much blood already and I knew it was only a matter of time before I pass out, if I didn't do something quick about it.
The man below me seemed to have noticed the situation I was in, because he was grinning like a fool. "What's funny, asshole?" I asked him, pointing my gun at him again.
He chuckled like a maniac before responding, "Your brother is going to kill you." He laughed again. "He has the location of all your safe houses, even the outsiders that helped you, they've all been slaughtered along with their families."
He hissed as he glared at my bloody nightgown and then continued. "You're weak, you have nowhere else to go. In a few minutes, you'll bleed to death. More men are on their way here, either way, you will die tonight."
"You don't know anything ab—" before I could finish, he twisted my foot and brought me down to the ground. He crawled around, searching for his lost weapon.
I got back up immediately while he was still searching endlessly in the darkness. He finally gave up, before turning back to me with a sorry look. And yet again, I still couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger.
I decided to leave him, after all, he was badly hurt. But immediately I turned my back, I heard him rush to his feet and before he could jump at me, I fired the gun at his thigh. His screams accompanied the echoes of the gunshots as he fell to his back.
"You should have stayed down." I said to him, but his scream was louder than my voice.
I left him there and wrapped my hand around my bleeding torso, I groaned like a laboring woman while staggering towards the half ruined sedan. It wasn't much of a vehicle anymore, but at least it is enough to get me to safety.
I was definitely going to die soon if I didn't get help. I felt blood drip down from my gown and crawl down to my feet as I accelerated further into the city. There was only one place I could get help from, a place where Francesco would never dare set a foot in.
The lights from the buildings up above me blended together in a single streak as I drove through the backstreets of Chicago. Each time I drove closer to my destination, I couldn't help but wonder what the reaction of the man I wanted to meet would be.
Driving at full speed on the freeway with a clogged vision and soaked in my own blood, I felt life slowly drain out of me and an inch closer to my death as each minute passed. Even with that, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about him.
My whole drive to my destination was reflective. It's been three years since I left him and now I am back and in need of his help. Wondering if he was still the same man I knew back then. A part of me was convinced that he would shoot me immediately when he saw me. For all I know, I could be driving to my own death.
After a left turn, my lips curled up a smile at the sight of a towering iron gate with four armed men standing in the front, they shielded their eyes from the car's bright headlights. But before I could drive further, my body slumped lifelessly into the car as though I was a computer being suddenly unplugged.
All I could hear were the men shouting in Irish as they approached the car before I drifted into the void of darkness.