MY PORSCHE SCREAMS down the highway as I repeatedly break the law with high speeds in an attempt to escape the SUV behind us.
Normally, my car would smoke them, leave them sitting in the dust. But the SUV must have a souped-up engine, definitely not factory, because it’s keeping up with me, and I can’t seem to shake them no matter what I do.
I risk a glance over at Victoria, who’s been quiet ever since I mentioned Brody Farrell. I see she has her knees drawn up to her chest, and she’s shaking like a leaf as tears stream down her cheeks. She probably has all the worst possible scenarios running through her head right now, but I need her here with me. I need her present. Because when the time comes, she’s going to have to fight back.
“Victoria, listen to me,” I demand, my voice stern and gruff. “I will not let them hurt you. Do you understand me?” When she doesn’t respond, I roughly reach over to grab her chin and force her to meet my gaze. “I’m going to protect you. They will not take you. They will have to gothroughme to get to you. Nod that you understand.”
She gives me a shaky nod as more tears stream out of her beautiful blues.
Releasing Victoria, I turn my attention back to the road. It was stupid of me to not take a crew with me to my sister’s with Brody Farrell out there seeking revenge for what I’ve done to his family. I just didn’t want to roll up to Sara’s house with guards, trying to explain what kind of life I was leading now. She still has no idea I overtook Ciccone’s empire. One day she will know, but this was not the time to tell her.
I made a mistake by not bringing reinforcements. So, for right now, I just need to narrow the distance as much as I can between here and New York, so that I can hopefully get some backup before shit goes down. But as soon as I think that, I hear the first shot ring out before the rear windshield bursts into a million little shards.
Victoria screams, and I yell at her to lean down in her seat.
Looks like I’m going to have to do this without any help.
Speeding down the highway, narrowly missing cars, I put the car to the test. We reach a buck-twenty before the second shot comes. They miss us.
But the third hits its mark.
The blown-out tire sends the car into a tailspin. We do a few one-eighties on the highway before finally careening off the road, down a small hill and into a ditch. The airbags deploy as soon as we crash, filling the car up with a white smoke that smells like ammonia and makes it hard to breathe.
Fumbling for the knife strapped to my ankle, I’m able to unsheathe it, bring it up and pop the airbags.
Victoria has a nasty gash on her forehead, so she’s a little groggy when I shake her awake. “Are you all right?” I ask her.
She gives me a lazy nod in response, her eyes not really focused. Her brain is probably still trying to process what just happened.
Reaching past her, I open the glove compartment, pull out my Glock and grab an extra clip. “Stay here. Stay in the car. No matter what you hear. Stay here.”
“Damon!” she calls weakly when I climb out, but I don’t stop or turn around.
I’m going to be putting my life on the line to save Victoria. If someone asked me what love is, I would tell them that it’s this. Right here. Sacrificing everything for the person who stole your heart.
I might not make it after everything is all said and done, but I’ll make damn sure that they’re all dead first. I’m going to be the last one standing at the end of this fight, come hell or high water.
Using the rear of the car as a shield, I wait for the first fucker to pop his head up over the hill. And when he does, I shoot him right between the eyes.
The big ginger rolls down the hill in a dead heap.
One down, I tell myself. The rest won’t be so damn easy, though.
The next two men barely peek over the hill before they begin firing. Bullets ricochet off the car, pinging and sailing through the air. I move deeper into the ditch, using the ground as cover as well.
When they’ve emptied their clips, that’s when I make my move. Scrambling away from the car, I flank to the right until I have the advantage. The fuckers are so concentrated on the car, thinking that we’re both inside the vehicle, that they don’t even see me coming until it’s too late.
I jam my knife into the throat of one of the men, pushing it in all the way to the hilt before turning and using his back as a human shield. A few bullets pierce the man’s back in front of me before I can get my gun in position to shoot the other guy in the chest two times and once in the face.
The guy I shoot goes down right away, but the man with the knife stuck in his throat begins to wrestle me in a panic. Twisting the blade into his soft tissue, I yank it free and kick him with my shoe. He stumbles backwards, blood spurting out of his severed carotid like a damn fountain.
I expect more men to come out of the car, especially Brody, but none do. Cautiously approaching the vehicle with all four doors open, I realize there’s no one left inside.
I’m starting to wonder if it’s all over…but that’s when I hear Victoria scream.
CHAPTER 35
VICTORIA
