She wanted revenge herself. The gun fired, the recoil smashing back into her hands. She didn’t even flinch. I looked at Rocco who was staring at her in stupefied horror, clutching his chest with his undamaged hand. At first, I thought she’d missed, but then Rocco’s chin tucked to his chest and his hand fell away from his torso, revealing a bubbling hole in his right side. Straight through his lung. His breath wheezed in and out, trying to gather enough air to speak. I knew he wouldn’t die for a long time with a wound like that and I was glad. Elena wasn’t meant to be a cold-blooded killer.
