Evelyn reached for the fallen gun.

Her fingers brushed the cold steel of the barrel.

I kicked out with all the strength I had left, my boot striking her shoulder.

She grunted and fell sideways into the pile of iron pipes.

The heavy metal clattered around her, pinning one of her legs.

She screamed in pain as a thick pipe rolled onto her ankle.

I scrambled back on my hands and knees, grabbing the gun before Marcus could reach it.

Dante’s hand was suddenly under my elbow, pulling me to my feet.

His grip was firm and steadying.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured.

He turned his attention to Marcus, who was now frozen under the gaze of three armed men.

“Tie them up,” Dante ordered.

His men moved quickly, pulling zip-ties from their vests.

They dragged Evelyn out from under the pipes, ignoring her curses.

They pushed Marcus onto his knees, binding his wrists tightly behind his back.

Marcus looked up at Dante, his eyes wide with terror.

“You can’t do this, Russo,” Marcus said.

“I have partners. People who expect me to show up.”