Suddenly, the Mercedes' back lights go on as the fucker slams on the brakes. Santino swerves, avoiding a full-blown collision, and comes up beside them.
I look Boris dead in the eyes, then grin and wave with my gun in my hand while letting down the window.
“Miss me, motherfucker?” I shout, and training my barrel on the side, back window, I pull the trigger.
He ducks down, probably lying flat on the seat to avoid the bullets.
Suddenly, he darts up again and takes a wild shot at me, but he misses, and the bullet hits the back door.
Santino jerks the wheel, keeping us from going down the cliffside, and we push the Mercedes into the wall, the sound of metal scraping sharp in the air.
Tires screech, and dust kicks up into the air as Boris fires another shot, the bullet missing us completely and hitting somewhere behind us.
The Mercedes’ back window is blown out by one of my men, and Santino laughs as he drives the accelerator to the floor.
Suddenly, the road grows wider, and our bumper smashes into the Mercedes, hard enough to send the sedan snaking across the dry terrain, rocks and sand shooting up from the tires.
“Let’s end this,” I growl at Santino.
“On it.” He turns the steering wheel hard, and we follow the Mercedes off the road.
I think of the cells I have beneath one of my warehouses. They were inspired by Damiano, our retired capo dei capi. These fuckers are going to die in those cells if it’s the last thing I do.
For Nina.
For Simi.
For me.
Gunfire erupts again as Al and the others close in, coming up on either side of us so we can box in the Mercedes between the vehicles and force it to a stop.
We come up on the right again, and this time I lean out of the window and aim at the rear tire. Both shots rip through the rubber, and the Mercedes pitches sideways before cartwheeling into the air. It lands with a crash of metal and glass, and I shout, “Fuck. They better not be dead!”
Santino brakes so hard the belt cuts into my chest, and before he brings the SUV to a stop, I shove the door open and jump out.
“Wait for me!” Santino shouts.
Not listening, my boots hit the ground running as I lift my hands, holding my weapon ready.
Somehow, the Mercedes landed upright. The driver's door opened, and the guard fell out during the accident, but from his brains spilling over the sand, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.
I reach the front passenger side first, and ripping the door open, I grab Anton by his throat and haul his ass out of the car before slamming the handle of my gun into his face. “You thought you could hide, motherfucker.”
Terror creeps into his eyes, and it feeds the vengeance in me.
Behind me, Boris stumbles from the wreck and begins to run, but Santino tackles the bastard to the ground. Boris swings at Santino, but my friend knocks him out with two quick punches.
I hit Anton again, just for the fucking pleasure it gives me, before I drag the fucker toward the SUVs.
My men move in fast, bringing zip ties, and while they restrain the assholes, I watch, a sliver of peace returning to my soul, knowing I have them.
When they load Anton into one of the trunks, I step closer and smirk at him. “Nina’s waiting.My womanhas a lot of anger to get rid of. She really liked the idea of skinning you alive and cutting off your dick.”
I indicate for them to close the trunk and watch as Santino slams the other one shut with Boris inside.
I climb into the passenger seat of our SUV, and when Santino slides in behind the steering wheel, I grin at him. “Let’s go home. I want them in the cells.”
Nina
