Dirty Dom: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) by Willow Winters

close as the phone goes to voice mail. Because of me, she may be dead right now.

    * * *
    “ Y ou sure this is it ?” I’ve got two guns on me in the holsters and another in my lap. I chamber the round and sit forward in my seat looking at the run down warehouse. They better fucking be in there. It’s been forty minutes. That’s too fucking long. I watched that video over and over, looking for any kind of clue. My gut sinks and my fists clench. My poor Becca. She doesn’t deserve this shit. I got her into this mess and I’m gonna get her out.
    “This is it boss.” Johnny answers. Vince leans between the two seats as the car behind us parks.
    “Time to kill some De Luca fuckers.”
    “Let’s go.” I’m the first out of the car. If they’ve got eyes on the parking lot, they’re gonna see us coming. There’s no way around it. It’s a warehouse in the middle of no where on a huge concrete pad with a run way for planes. There’s no hiding. No getting in or out undetected.
    I hear the guys get out and come up behind me as another one of our cars pulls in. I don’t wait though. I’ve waited long enough. All of us will come. The entire family is coming to kill these fuckers. You don’t mess with one of us and get away. We’ll find you. We’ll hunt you down and make you pay.
    That’s what we do.
    Jack is the only one not here. But he’d be here if he could. I know he would.
    We make a V, with me leading the way to the large steel double doors. There’s a chain and a lock on it. Anthony comes up behind me with the bolt cutters while we all keep our guns raised. The heavy steel chain drops to the ground with a loud clank and he quickly bends and pulls it away so I can pull the doors apart. They open with a loud groan.
    They definitely know we’re here.
    A cold sweat breaks across my body. They better not of touched her. That image that flashed through my mind yesterday, of her cold and dead on the ground, it flashes into my vision. I try to blink it away, but it won’t. I shake my head and grind my teeth. My gun held high. The huge room is empty. Concrete floors that are run down, but bare. No place to hide. Which is good and bad. It’s two stories with a racketing thin hall lining the upper level. It’s made of wire mesh flooring so each inch is visible. Six doors on each level. Two on each side and the back wall.
    She’s behind one of them. Twelve doors to look through.
    My gun moves to each door, each corner. Empty.
    “Start at the left. Bottom floor.” I call out with determination and confidence.
    “We splittin’ Dom?” My Pops voice rings out, but I shake my head. I’m calling the shots. My problem and my girl. I’m grateful Pop’s is ready to back me up. I don’t know how many of them there are. I want our numbers high.
    I lower my hand with the gun down as I reach the door. I look back at the crew as I test the handle. Locked. I bet they’re all fucking locked. They’re steel doors. Not fucking easy to break down, but we got this.
    I put my gun up to the keyhole and fire. Once, twice, three times. I give it a hard kick and it jostles slightly. Another shot and another kick. Everyone has their guns ready to fire as the doors open. They swing open with a bang, crashing into the walls. Boxes are piled high, nearly to the ceiling in several rows. I take a step in with caution, moving my gun. But a faint muffled sound from a distance makes me stop.
    I motion for everyone to be still. I swear I heard something. I swear I did. I almost move forward but then I hear it. Not this room. I hustle my ass past everyone and on to the next. My Becca. I hear it clearer as I reach the door in the back left corner.
    Locked.
    Bang! Bang! Bang! I kick it open with no mercy, making my leg scream in pain. Again. I fire and then so does Johnny. We fire together, kick together. The door swings open and my heart stops. My Becca is hanging upside down, tied up by her ankles over a sink to the right of the room.