Chapter 8 - The Price of Redemption
Bruno didn't sprint across the pavement—he flew.
Before Harlan could depress the red trigger, one hundred and twenty pounds of muscle and teeth smashed directly into Harlan’s right arm.
A sickening crunch echoed through the yard as Bruno’s jaws locked onto Harlan’s wrist. The detonator flew out of his hand, skidding across the wet pavement toward my feet.
Harlan let out an agonizing screech, dropping to his knees as Bruno slammed him flat onto his back, pinning the crime boss under his massive frame.
I stepped forward calmly, picked up the detonator, and clicked the safety switch to OFF, tossing it into the harbor waters nearby.
"Get him off me! Get him off me!" Harlan wept, clutching his bleeding arm as Bruno stood over him, his dark eyes staring down into Harlan’s face, a low, murderous rumble echoing from his chest.
I stood over Victor Harlan, looking down at the man who had terrorized Queens, bribed my underboss, and tried to bury a seven-year-old girl alive.
"Call him off, Dominic! Please!" Harlan begged, thrashing in the puddle.
"Bruno," I commanded softly.
The dog immediately backed away two steps, standing at rigid attention beside me, his chest covered in rain and rain-slicked fur.
I drew my sidearm from my holster and racked the slide.
"You broke the code, Victor," I said quietly, looking down into his terrified eyes. "There are no second chances for men who hunt children."
A single shot echoed through the container yard.
The body went limp in the rain.
I turned around immediately, ignoring the fallen mob boss, and rushed toward the open doors of the refrigerated trailer.
Tony and Sal pulled the heavy steel doors wide open.
Inside, huddled together under thin wool blankets on the cold metal floor, were six young children—scared, shivering, but alive.
I dropped my rifle to the ground, stepped up into the trailer, and crouched down in front of them. I removed my heavy, warm leather coat and wrapped it around the shoulders of two small girls shivering in the corner.
Bruno stepped into the trailer behind me.
The children flinched for a moment at the sight of the massive dog. But Bruno didn't growl. He approached them slowly, lowered his huge head, and gently nudged a small boy’s hand with his wet nose, letting out a soft, reassuring whimper.
May you like
The little boy blinked through his tears, reaching out a small, trembling hand, and stroked Bruno’s scarred fur.
"It’s over, kids," I said softly, my voice warmer than my men had ever heard it. "You’re safe now. You’re all going home."
