Page 153 of The Strength Of A Woman

“Get out, you fucking tool. Grab your husband and go home. You embarrass yourself.”

He barely finishes saying that when she points her gun at me and pulls the trigger.

Things unfold so fast that most of what happens next is just us going through the motions.

The bullet stops in Callum’s shoulder as he anticipates her move and steps in front of me to protect me.

Blood drips to the floor from the hole in his jacket when the next bullet flies.

This time it comes from my gun.

It's the gun I slowly retrieved from my thigh when I was lying down, and she was focused on hitting me again.

She points her weapon straight at him this time, and his bullet flies fast, but mine reaches her first and hits her in the chest. His hits her in the head.

She falls to the ground, her gun sliding to the floor, as more gunshots come from the doorway.

“Get down,” Callum barks, pushing me to the floor while he ducks away from the stream of bullets and points his gun at Giorgio.

The first shot is lethal.

The second one makes Giorgio fall over his wife.

The corridor is suddenly silent, as if we are the last few living people in the church.

Panting, I look at the disaster in the room.

The blood on the floor.

The two people who made it a priority today to come after Callum and me. To finish us.

We were more concerned with Varela, his men, and his family, and yet, the real enemies were they.

What am I saying here? I always knew it was them.

I push up and check Callum’s shoulder, who’s pressing his hand against it.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he says, removing his jacket to check the wound. “It’s only a scratch. I’ll be fine.”

He looks at me.

“You need some ice on that bruise,” he says, motioning to my cheek. “What a vile woman,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, pressing his handkerchief against his wound.

“How are things outside?” I ask.

He looks at me calmly, smiling.

“It’s over. All of Varela’s top people are dead. The others surrendered.”

“What about your people?”

“We had a couple of casualties. A few people were wounded,” he says monotonously.

I ponder his words before looking down at my gown.

“You know it’s still clean,” I say, and he glances at the skirt. “You won the bet,” I add.

He smiles.