We continued until the city lights behind us vanished. With his hands locked on the wheel and his jaw clenched, Matteo drove quickly. With blood on his sleeve, Damiano sat next to me, silent as if he were listening to something that only he could hear.
The smell of rain and gunpowder filled the car. The smoke burned in my throat. I kept seeing flashes of the fight every time I blinked, including the bodies, the noise, and the way Damiano didn't even pause to catch his breath.
We were somewhere on the outskirts when Matteo finally slowed. A safe house. Probably forgotten by everyone but Damiano, this was one of his older ones. It looked like a worn down house that was tucked away among trees and held secrets.
The air was cold and damp inside. He dropped his gun on the table, sat down har
