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I walked out of the office before I smacked him in the jaw. Soften me? Please. If anything, I had an even shorter fuse. My phone vibrated. Pulling it out, I scowled at the name flashing on the screen. It was Luca, one of the small-business owners in our protection rackets.
I answered. “What?”
“Mr. Costa, oh God, you gotta come now. It’s your fiancée. I’m sorry. I tried to stop them. They came in and started smashing up the place while she was here.”
The world seemed to halt on its axis for a split second. My heart thundered. “Who?”
“It’s that street gang. They have those jean jackets with a deer skull. Some kind of animal. I don’t know. You need to be here. Your fiancée’s in trouble. Th-they took her,” he stammered. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Costa. I did everything I could. Believe me.”
“Took her where?”
“She’s outside, but hurry.”
A chill swept through me, cutting into my bones. “Take your shotgun, get out there, and fight.”
“I-I can’t. There’s too many of them?—”
Don’t care. “If she dies, I’ll kill you and everybody you’ve ever known.”
“U-understood.”
I got into my car. “I’m on my way.”
TWENTY-THREE
VIOLET
They hauled me to a car.
One suggested they oughta tie me up and toss me in the car. The other, with a grin mean enough to curdle milk, figured it’d be more fitting to have me sitting in the back seat. They settled on it quick, squishing me in between two mountains of men. I gave them hell, using every bit of fight in me. But it was like trying to shove a river with my bare hands. They just held on tighter.
Xaden, the one steering this nightmare, took his place at the wheel with a smoothness that made my skin crawl. His eyes sought mine in the rearview mirror, cold as a winter’s night.
As the cafe stirred like a hornet’s nest, the pastry owner fetched something long and metallic. The door shattered with a blast. The guy in the passenger seat returned fire as Xaden hit the gas. I looked up again as the old man stepped out with his shotgun. Aimed.
I hunkered down.
Bullets thudded into the car like angry hailstones. The windshield spider-webbed and gave in. Amidst the engine’s howl, a man hollered, “I’m hit!”
We flew down Hanover, near about clipped a pedestrian. My hands gripped the seat, knuckles white. Xaden twisted the wheel hard, and I felt like a rag doll in a cyclone. A crash bellowed, tires screamed, and I danced with weightlessness. My head snapped back, caught by the seatbelt’s embrace. Then everything shuddered to a halt.
I blinked.
The world slid into focus. What happened? Did I black out? I slowly came to my senses. I’d been in an accident. A seatbelt held me upright. Xaden groaned, his nose dripping blood. The others were outside. Gunfire echoed. I needed to run. Ignoring the pain in my neck, I unbuckled myself, crawled past a sea of broken glass. Using all my strength, I yanked the door open.
Sunshine stabbed my eyes. I jumped down, and the world tipped violently. I dashed to the front of the car, which had crumpled like an accordion. One guy was sprawled on the sidewalk, groaning to high heaven.
Rapid footsteps approached.
Run.
I sprinted to the row of businesses, but my balance was like a see-saw. My elbows slammed into concrete. I hobbled to an alleyway, but a cruel hand latched onto me, jerking me into the chest of a man whose gun kissed my temple.
Xaden strutted into sight, dabbing his nose.
“Damn it,” my captor snarled. “This was supposed to be quick. Smash and grab. And you let her bust your nose.”
I did that? Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.
