“That doesn’t answer anything,” Bella says. “Where is she now?”
My jaw tightens. There’s a place the conversation can go and a place it can’t. “She’s gone,” I say.
“I’m sorry,” she says, and I can tell she means it. “How did?—”
“Bella.” My tone is sharper than I intend. “Not now.”
She leans back, studying me, clearly wanting to push, but she lets it drop. For a few seconds, the only sound is the hum of the engine and Lily’s little voice in the middle.
“Car,” Lily babbles, tapping the window with her palm.
“Yes, car,” Bella says, turning to her with a small smile. Then she shifts her attention back to me. “How am I supposed to trust you when you don’t tell me anything about yourself.”
“Some things are better left?—”
Something in the rearview mirror catches my eye. A shape moving too fast in the next lane, a car edging closer than it should, windows just a little too dark.
My stomach drops.
“Duck,” I snap.
Bella blinks. “What?—”
“Down!” I roar, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her and Lily toward the floor just as the rear window explodes.
Glass shatters with a scream, spraying over the seats. Lily bursts into terrified wailing. A bullet slams into the headrest where Bella’s head was a second ago. Another punches through the side window, the crack of gunfire drowning out everything.
“Shit,” Nikolai curses, yanking the wheel. The car jerks hard, tires squealing as we swerve across a lane. Horns blare all around us.
I throw myself over Bella and Lily, using my body as a shield while I drag them lower, wedging them into the narrow pocket of space between the back seat and the floor. Lily is crying, high and panicked, her little hands fisting in Bella’s shirt.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Bella chants, voice shaking, wrapping her arms around her daughter, curling herself around Lily’s body on instinct.
More shots. The sound is deafening up close. I feel the impact through the frame of the car, metal ringing and protesting.
“Keep your heads down,” I bark, already moving. I slide off of them just enough to reach across the seat, my fingers finding the gun tucked in the gap between the cushions. Cold metal against my palm is a familiar comfort I wish they never had to see.
“Stay here,” I tell Bella, meeting her wide, terrified eyes. There’s no time to explain, no time for promises. Just this.
Lily’s sobs tear through the chaos. Bella nods, pulling her closer, trying to cover her ears.
I rise just enough to see out the shattered rear window, gun low but ready, adrenaline burning everything else away.
Through the blown-out rear glass I catch sight of them—dark sedan, two cars back, riding too close. Passenger window down. A man half-hanging out, arm extended, gun in his fist.
“Nikolai,” I call out. “Two back, right lane.”
“I see him,” Nikolai grits out, knuckles white on the wheel.
I shift higher, just enough to get a clear line, keeping my torso between Bella and the back window as much as I can. Wind tears through the cab, whipping my hair, carrying the high, thin sound of Lily’s crying.
“Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Bella repeats, holding Lily’s head against her chest, her own body curled tight, trying to make herself smaller.
The shooter raises his arm again.
I don’t think. I tally distances and speed and the way the car dips on the suspension and I squeeze off two shots, quick and controlled.
The first goes wide. The second doesn’t.
