Page 3

BANG

BANG

BANG

Before I even have a chance to react, Naz is on his feet, grabbing the table in front of us and flipping it over, shoving me to the checkered floor behind it. I hit the floor. Hard. Wincing, stunned, I peek around the table, watching in horror as the glass covering the front of the building cracks from the force of the flying bullets.

Bullets.

Fucking bullets.

Someone is shooting at the place.

Everyone else drops to the floor, scrambling away on instinct, everyone except for Naz… and his father, for that matter. Both men just stand there, staring straight ahead, as the tinted glass ripples and splinters between the metal bars but never breaks inside.

Bulletproof.

A few seconds. That's all it lasts. A dozen gunshots in quick succession before a car speeds away outside, the tires squealing, smoke flying. I can barely see it through the destruction, but I can tell the car is black, a shadowy mass of metal hauling ass to get away before it's caught.

My heart is hammering, my chest aching from the force of the thumps. Gasping, I try to catch my breath, but it's hard. So damn hard. Stark silence overtakes the deli in the wake of the gunfire. It seems to go on forever. We're all stunned. Eventually, Naz turns his head, calmly looking down at where I'm still crouching on the floor, carefully offering me his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asks, although he doesn't actually sound alarmed. I don't know if the man is just desensitized to this sort of thing, or if maybe he knew we were safe where we were.

"I, uh…" My voice shakes, my body trembling as I let him pull me to my feet. "Yeah, I think so."

He looks me over, still gripping onto my hand, before turning his attention to the window. People around us are getting to their feet, some fleeing from the fear of it all, while Giuseppe still just stands there, silent, staring.

He's in shock.

I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do.

Someone just shot up the fucking deli.

Something tells me there will be hell to pay from a Vitale for it.

I'm just not entirely sure which man at this point.

"You," Giuseppe growls, his voice laced with an anger I haven't heard since the first day Naz brought me to this place. It's the sound of simmering rage, of fury, of disgust. His head turns, his eyes going straight to his son. Naz turns to his father at the sound of the man's voice, his expression stoic. "Get out! Get out, and don't come back!"

I'm too stunned to do anything but stand there and watch. Naz, on the other hand, doesn't look surprised at all. He looks his father over for a moment before turning to me, pulling me toward him. He wraps his arms around me, and I hug him back, gripping tight.

"Next time," he whispers, "pick somewhere else to eat."

With that, he lets go of me.

With that, he's gone.

It happens in a blink. The bell over the door is jingling, and Naz is no longer beside me before I can even make sense of what's going on. Brow furrowing, body still trembling, I dash for the door, shocked my legs can even hold me up. I pull the door open and dart out onto the sidewalk, calling his name. "Naz? Naz!"

I turn around in circles, looking, but he's gone. That fast. He disappeared from the deli, leaving me there.

He just… left me here.

Like I said, he's different.

The old Naz would've never done that.

Sirens blare in the distance, coming closer as I stand there, my eyes drifting to the front of the deli. Shards of glass litter the sidewalk, as well as a few bullets that had ricocheted off. The glass kept them from getting inside, but it wasn't immune to destruction.

It's a mess.

People are running down the streets, shouting at one another, the neighborhood in utter chaos.

A drive-by shooting in broad daylight.

It's one of those things my mother warned me about, the horror stories of monsters that run these streets. Naz always told me never to be scared, that I had nothing to be scared of, but I am… I'm scared.

What the hell just happened?

I step back into the deli just as the police start to arrive. Giuseppe is finally moving around, helping people to their feet, trying to calm down his remaining customers. His voice is quiet, almost soothing as he talks, all traces of his anger gone out the door with his son.

Leaning back against the wall by the door, I slide down to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees as the police descend upon the scene. I'm in a daze, listening but not hearing anything going on around me, the world just a big blur until someone calls for me.

"Miss Reed?"

I look up, seeing a familiar face staring down at me. He's so close his shadow covers me, swaddling me in a gloomy cocoon. It's ominous. Detective Jameson.

The last time I saw the man was when I'd been shot. He came to the hospital while I was in recovery, asking to hear my side of the story. It was as if he'd expected me to refute Naz's statement, to tell them he'd somehow done something wrong, but I couldn't. Naz, for as many times as he might've endangered me, saved me that day. The doctor had said it himself. Naz saved my life. The detective had gone away, saying his door would be open if I wanted to reconsider, but never once did I ever think about turning on the man I love.

Because even with everything that has happened, God help me, I do love him.

I love him more than I ever thought possible.

I clear my throat, surprised my voice works when I say, "Mrs. Vitale."

Jameson's brow furrows as he squats down in front of me, like he thinks maybe if he's more on my level, I'll somehow make more sense. "What?"

Holding out my left hand, I show him the ring on my finger. "I'm not Miss Reed anymore."