Chapter 10: Her Terms

I did not leave.

I stood in the middle of the restaurant kitchen with the keys in my hand, and the steel door shook on its hinges.

"Lucia," Remo said. "Go."

"No."

"They're armed."

"So am I." I pulled the heavy cast iron skillet down from the rack above the stove. It weighed more than my arm.

The lock gave way, and the door flew inward.

Three men came in, in dark jackets, with pistols in their hands.

The first one went straight for Remo, and Remo hit him so hard the man's gun skidded under the prep table.

The second turned toward me.

I swung the skillet with both hands and caught him across the side of the head.

He dropped to the tile.

"Nice," Jake wheezed from the stairs.

"Stay there!"

The third man was already raising his pistol at Remo's back.

"Behind you!" I screamed.

Remo spun, but the shot went off first.

It hit him high in the left shoulder, and he staggered into the steel counter and still got hold of the man's wrist.

They slammed together into the shelves, and the pots came down in a crash.

I grabbed the nearest weapon, a stack of heavy dinner plates, and brought them down on the back of the man's skull.

He folded.

The kitchen was suddenly silent.

Three men lay on the tile.

Remo stood against the counter with his right hand pressed to his shoulder, and blood was coming through his fingers.

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