“I think so. What… My baby.”
“Indiana is right here, my little wildcat.”
I gathered her into my arms, hearing footsteps a second later. With her protected in my arms, I threw the weapon out, prepared to fire.
Enzo threw up his hands as he approached. “Whoa, boss. Just me. It’s over. They’re down. Every last one of the motherfuckers.”
Very slowly, I dropped the weapon, placing it on the ground and peering down at her. She pressed her hand against my chest, offering a slight smile.
“You know how to end a date. I think I prefer something else like ice cream.”
Half laughing, I shook my head. “Anything broken? Are you hurt?”
Her attitude still intact, she wiggled her hands and feet. “Nothing a tall glass of wine won’t cure.” Her words were full of jest, but there was no doubt she was shaken.
I’d never been so enraged in my life.
Indiana licked her face and at least she could still laugh.
I gathered her back into my arms, cradling her close to my body as I stood. The carnage was significant and I kept her from seeing as much of the wreckage as possible.
“You’re safe now,” I told her, hugging her even closer. She felt so light in my arms, so fragile.
“Safe. Is there anything such as safety in your world?” She closed her eyes, pressing her face into my chest.
Within Indiana following closely behind, I returned to the Charger, surveying the scene.
Utter chaos.
Her question was worthwhile, a decent reminder of my world, which was completely displaced from hers. “Yes, there is, my sweet Josette. No one will ever hurt you again.”
Enzo finished breaking the glass in the passenger window, pushing the shards onto the pavement. He eyed me carefully and opened the door, even brushing off the seat and waiting as Indiana climbed into the backseat. Once I had her belted in, I gently caressed her face.
Her expression was one of uncertainty, but the fear I’d seen had faded. She gripped my wrist like she’d done before, offering another sweet smile. In those few seconds, our connection was stronger than ever.
Even if it was twisted in violence and bloodshed.
I closed the door, studying the few fires remaining.
“Check all of them. Don’t let a single motherfucking asshole remain alive.”
“Yes, sir.”
If the motherfucker wanted a war, he’d just gotten one.
CHAPTER 19
Sinclair
Anger.
The dark emotion was nothing new. I’d experienced it more often than momentary joy or utter happiness. I’d clung to the happy celebrations in my life for a few hours, maybe a day, but had always held onto the overwhelming knowledge that pretending to be ecstatic while ignoring all other aspects of my life was reckless at best.
Because every single time I’d forgotten who I was or the family I’d been born into, a near tragedy had occurred.
Tonight was no different; the attack, while not unexpected, had sparked the darkest emotion I could feel.
Blinding rage.
