“The kiss?—”
“The kiss was a mistake!” I leaned closer, hulking over her. “I’m not the hero of your story, I’m the villain. I don’t save people, I kill them. I don’t build; I burn things down. And Idon’tfall in love, even with—” I bit it back. I’d nearly saideven with you.“With anyone,” I muttered.
She was staring at me as if I’d slapped her, and the pain and betrayal in her eyes nearly broke me. I just wanted to grab her face in my hands and kiss her…
Instead, I faced front and threw the car into gear.I did what had to be done,I told myself. And tried to ignore the voice that told me this was really about something else, about the dark void at my core. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alison sit back in her seat, blinking quickly. She wrapped her arms around herself andblyat’,it nearly broke my heart.
I drove. The rain was torrential, now. Even with the wipers on full, the road disappeared between wipes, and the wheels sent up white fans of spray behind us. But I kept my foot hard down, desperate to be out of the car so I couldn’t feel the pain I’d caused.
A car slammed into us from the side. The wheel flew under my hands, burning my palms, and I wrestled with it as the car fishtailed left and right on the wet road.Blyat’!My face flashed hot. I’d been driving too fast, given how wet it was. I must not have noticed someone pulling out?—
“Gennadiy!”Alison yelled from beside me. She sounded panicked, for someone as cool-headed as her.Why is she?—
There was a roar of automatic gunfire, and the side windows disintegrated as bullets tore through the car. I pushed Alison down and hunkered as low as I could. On instinct, my foot crushed the gas pedal to the floor, and the car surged forward. The gunfire took out the rear side windows and then the rear window as we pulled away from them.
I got my first glimpse of them through the driving rain: a big white SUV with a dark-haired man pointing a stubby submachine gun out of the passenger window.Chyort!They were accelerating, catching up to us. I looked around for Radimir’s car or Mikhail’s, but they were out of sight.Chyort, chyort, chyort!
The SUV came alongside us, and the gunman fired again, hosing the car. Unlike in the movies, cars aren’t bulletproof. Bullets chewed through the doors, flew through the cabin, and ate their way out the other side. I could feel bits of plastic trim and leather hitting my face, arms, and ankles. Any second, a bullet would tear through us…
My blood turned to ice water. A bullet would tear throughher.
I hooked the car left, and rammed them, but their car was bigger and heavier than ours, and it barely moved. Then Alison was taking off her seatbelt and climbing over me, her hair blowing in my face, her body warm against mine. She leaned out of my window, aimed low, and emptied her gun into one of their tires.
They swerved away, out of control. Alison retreated back into her own seat, panting in relief. But then I saw the SUV swerving back towards us, starting to spin. “Get your seatbelt on!” I yelled.
The SUV rushed towards us as she scrambled to get the buckle to lock in place. Then we were slammed sideways and spun around, the two cars tangled together as they pirouetted down the street. I saw a guy on a motorcycle swerve to avoid us and go tumbling off his bike. There was a series of bone-jarring thumps as we bounced off other cars, and then, finally, we stopped.
I twisted around to check on Alison. She was panting and white faced, but alive. “Are you hurt?” I demanded. “Are you hit?”
She shook her head, then pointed in front of us.
I looked. We’d come to rest just before a busy intersection. The SUV was nose-to-nose with us, and I was looking right at the driver and passenger. From their faces, they were Russian. From their builds and haircuts, former military. They were as shaken up as we were, and for a moment, we just sat there staring at each other.
Then the passenger lifted his gun.Blyat’.I looked around, but there was nowhere to hide. He’d cut us down, in or out of the car. I satthere numbly watching him reload. We were ten feet apart: he couldn’t miss.
The engine’s still running,I realized. God bless German engineering. I threw the car into gear and buried the gas pedal in the carpet, and the car leapt forward, ramming into the SUV and shoving it backwards. I kept the pedal hard down, pushing them down the street, into the intersection. I saw the gunman curse as his aim was thrown off. He took aim again, the barrel pointing right at Alison?—
The SUV disappeared from view as a semi-truck crossing the intersection smashed into its side. I hit the brakes, and we screeched to a stop.
We sat there panting with adrenaline. Then I heard sirens wailing behind us. Alison turned to me. “Shit. The FBI’s still looking for me. I can’t let the cops take me in.”
We scrambled out of the car, the rain soaking us instantly. My beloved BMW was a wreck, peppered with bullet holes, every window gone, and the nose concertinaed to half its normal length. But it had kept us alive. The sirens were getting louder, rising over the hissing rain that was plastering our clothes to our bodies. Alison ran over to the motorcycle that had gotten caught up in our crash. She hauled it upright and threw her leg over it. “Get on!”
I wasn’t about to argue: it sounded like the cops were in the next street. I climbed on behind her and threw my arms around her waist. And then we were shooting forward and leaning hard into the corners as she powered down a side street and then threaded the bike through a series of alleys. We must have looked bizarre: a tiny woman leaning low atop the big sport bike and a hulking guy in a suit hanging onto her back.
The rain had made the asphalt perilously slick, but she was an expert, countering every skid. I hung on for dear life as the demon scream of the bike pounded my ears and the brick walls of the alley flashed by just inches away.This is how she gets around?!It was terrifying. But I had my body molded to hers, and the sweet smell of her hair was in my nose. If I was going to die, there was no better way to go.
The sirens faded behind us until, finally, we couldn’t hear them at all. Alison slowed the bike and brought it to a stop in a narrow alley. With the buildings so close together and the storm clouds overhead, it was twilight-dark. The rain hammered down, soaking us and turning every fire escape and outcropping into a shining waterfall.
Alison turned the engine off, and the alley was suddenly silent aside from the crashing water. She twisted around on the bike, and we stared at each other, rain sluicing down our faces. The adrenaline was still racing through my veins, making every little detail clear and bright: her rain-soaked black jeans that clung to her legs, the white blouse that was now almost transparent, the wet locks of hair that fell across her face. Without thinking, I put my big, clumsy hand on her cheek to push them out of the way, and she was so cold… I cradled her face, warming it with my palm and?—
All the feelings I’d been denying came welling up at once, overwhelming. I was off guard, I couldn’t fight it?—
I let out a growl of anger and brought my lips down on hers.
34
ALISON
