I stomped on the gas, turning the engine over. I did it! We were leaving. Brady would be safe.
He screamed.
I jumped back, eyes swiveling around for danger.
From the side of the house, a large figure moved with purpose.
I slammed the door closed, wasting a precious second to put the barricade between me and the unknown enemy. Then my hand was on the shifter, and the car rammed backward. Brady clutched the headrest. The tires scrambled into drive as I turned the wheel and flew to the mouth of the alley.
A truck pulled up from the left, braking hard to stop us.
My heart was in my throat. Panic seeped into my veins, and I tried to pull in front of it, going over the poor excuse for a lawn.
The truck inched forward, blocking us in beside a shed.
I rammed the shifter into reverse, barely looking behind me.
But Brady did.
He called out, a wordless cry to stop.
The black shape sprinted into the red glow of the taillights. Big, brutal hands reached out as if to stop the car from moving.
I did not want my son to see me run someone over. Not that the sedan could take the impact. But for our escape, I was willing to try. I bit my tongue in the frenzy as my foot reached for the gas.
One word from Brady had me slamming on the brakes. The child’s recognition rang in the car.
Shit.Holy Mother of God, we were screwed.
A mask of rage glowed in the red light. Familiar features snapped into place.
Ivan.Tatko, my son had said.
Brady was already scrambling to the passenger door. I reached for him, fingers clutching the back of his shirt as a sob choked me.
“Mama, tatko is here,” he insisted. “It’s okay now.”
No…no it’s not.
Because in Bulgarian, as I’d learned from asking the gruff guard who chaperoned our supermarket trips, tatko meant father.
The sire had come for his offspring. And I was the villain who’d been caught red handed trying to steal away that precious,pricelesstreasure from right under his nose.
Brady managed to launch himself from the car. I put it in park and hopped out in time to hear the son tell the father how scary it had been playing outside in the dark.
Ivan lifted the boy into his arms and clasped a firm hand around the back of Brady’s messy hair. Always messy and wild.
Just like the father, whose hair wasn’t swept into place right now. The wind caught the long, black lengths and pulled them back, as if stroking in a gentle caress.
Ivan looked at me then, the kingpin of the crime world. The fury blazing in those inky black depths was enhanced by the blood red glow from the taillights. If we’d been in a truce before, we were now at a terrible collision. This man was my enemy, and he saw me as the threat I was to him.
Lord have mercy.But it wasn’t the heavens from whom I needed to be saved. It was the monster. He held the power over me from now until the end of my time on earth.
Chapter 12 – Ivan
Boris:Anyone else impressed that this chick can hotwire a car?
Kiril:Shewhat?!
