Chapter 9 - THE BLOOD ON PIER 42
Inside the cavernous, rusting warehouse at Pier 42, cold rain leaked through holes in the corrugated metal roof.
Tessa was tied securely to a heavy wooden chair in the center of the vast, empty space. Her hands were bound behind her back with thick rope, and blood dripped slowly from the cut on her forehead down her cheek.
Standing ten feet away was Donati Moretti, wearing a leather coat, smoking a cigar, surrounded by twelve heavily armed men holding assault rifles.
"He won't come alone, boss," one of Donati's lieutenants warned nervously, looking toward the heavy steel doors of the warehouse. "Gael Costa is a lunatic."
"Let him come!" Donati sneered, pointing to his armed guards. "We have the high ground, we have the firepower, and we have his little flower girl!"
Donati walked over to Tessa, grabbing her hair roughly to force her chin up. "He really likes touching you, huh, sweetheart? The untouchable boss found himself a doll—"
BOOM!
A deafening explosion blew the massive steel doors of the warehouse completely off their hinges!
Fireball and concrete dust surged into the building as heavy shrapnel tore through the air!
Before the smoke could even clear, a single silhouette strode through the flames.
It was Gael.
He didn't take cover. He didn't hide behind pillars. He walked straight down the central aisle like an unstoppable force of nature, a gun flashing in each hand.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Four of Moretti's men fell instantly before they could even raise their weapons, struck cleanly between the eyes.
"Kill him! Kill him now!" Donati shrieked in absolute terror, scrambling backward behind a stack of shipping crates.
The remaining guards opened fire, bullets riddling the air around Gael!
Gael moved with terrifying, unnatural speed. He ducked behind a steel forklift, returned fire with surgical precision, dropping two more guards with headshots.
Marco and twenty Costa tactical guards breached the side windows, flanking the warehouse, unleashed a terrifying storm of gunfire that tore Moretti's men to shreds.
In less than ninety seconds, the loud gunfire abruptly ceased.
The warehouse was dead silent, filled with the smell of gunpowder, copper, and smoke. Eleven of Moretti's guards lay dead or dying on the wet concrete floor.
Tessa sat frozen in her chair, her heart slamming against her ribs, her eyes wide with shock.
Gael stepped out of the shadows.
His suit coat was torn, blood covered his left sleeve from a grazing bullet wound, and his face was smeared with ash. But his gray eyes were locked entirely onto Tessa.
Donati Moretti suddenly lunged out from behind a crate, grabbing Tessa from behind, pressing a revolver against her temple!
"Stay back, Costa!" Donati screamed, his voice high-pitched and hysterical. "Stay back or I put a bullet through her brain!"
Gael stopped ten feet away.
He didn't look at the gun pressed against Tessa's head. He looked into Donati's wild, terrified eyes.
"Donati," Gael said, his voice dropping to a low, demonic whisper that made the hair on the back of Tessa's neck stand up. "You made three mistakes tonight."
Donati’s hand trembled against the gun. "Shut up! Sign over the docks or she dies!"
"First," Gael continued, taking one calm step forward, "you brought weapons into my city."
"I'll shoot her!"
"Second," Gael took another step, "you put your dirty hands on my property."
"I swear to God, Costa—"
"And third," Gael’s eyes flashed with absolute, lethal certainty, "you made her bleed."
Before Donati could pull the trigger, Gael raised his right silver pistol and fired a single shot.
BANG!
The heavy bullet struck Donati directly through the wrist holding the gun!
Donati screamed in agony, dropping the revolver as his hand shattered!
In a fraction of a second, Gael closed the distance between them. He grabbed Donati by the throat, lifted the two-hundred-pound man off his feet with one arm, and slammed him hard against the concrete pillar!
A sickening CRACK echoed through the warehouse as Donati's spine struck the stone.
Gael didn't shoot him again. He lowered Donati to his knees, leaning in close to the whimpering, broken man.
"Tell your syndicate," Gael whispered into Donati's ear, "that if anyone ever breathes her name again, I will burn your family line from the face of this earth."
Gael tossed Donati aside like a bag of trash, where Marco immediately cuffed him to be handed over to federal authorities.
Gael turned toward Tessa.
His breathing was heavy, ragged, his hands trembling violently as the horrific adrenaline and tactile fire raged through his body. He looked like a terrifying monster standing in a field of blood and smoke.
He looked down at his own bloody hands, suddenly hesitating, afraid to step closer to her, afraid that his dark, violent world had terrified her beyond repair.
"Tessa..." Gael whispered, his voice hoarse, full of rare, agonizing heartbreak. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry you had to see this..."
Tessa looked at the blood on his sleeve. She looked at his trembling, burnt body. She didn't see a monster. She saw the man who had walked through fire and bullets just to keep her breathing.
"Gael," Tessa choked out, tears bursting from her eyes.
She didn't wait for him to unbind her. She pulled her hands against the ropes until the frayed fibers snapped, throwing herself out of the wooden chair!
She threw her arms around Gael’s neck, burying her face into his chest, holding onto him with every ounce of strength in her body!
Gael went completely still.
The burning fire in his blood—the agonizing, violent current that had tortured him his entire life—erupted for one final, explosive second... and then completely, permanently shattered into dust.
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Slowly, carefully, Gael wrapped his massive arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest, burying his face into her dark, rain-soaked hair.
He let out a long, shuddering sob—the first tears he had shed in twenty years—as he held the only woman who had ever truly set him free.
