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“No,” I breathed. Adriana sat up abruptly beside me, her eyes wide as she followed my gaze. I was supposed to put the car in gear, but instead, I stayed there and watched, the engine roaring under me as my dad bled to death on the front steps of a shitty little murder cabin.
“Tristan,” she whispered, reaching out to touch my arm. I barely felt it; my mind was spinning in circles of incomprehension and terror. “Tristan. We need to go.”
She was right. My father might survive. My brother could find his way out. My priority was Adriana.
Adriana and our child.
The reality of it hit me like a punch to the gut, my breath hitching at the thought. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, glancing one last time at the horrific scene in the rearview mirror before pushing it out of my mind.
“Put your seatbelt on,” I commanded Adriana, my voice hoarse with shock and fear. She complied without question, quickly snapping her belt into place as she watched me with wide-eyed concern.
As I floored the accelerator, the engine growled and the car launched forward into the night. The rearview mirror captured a final glimpse of chaos before darkness consumed it. My mind raced with fear for my father and brother, but the fierce need to protect Adriana and our unborn child outweighed everything. I needed to think about her right now, about the road ahead…not about the fact that I was the new kingpin of the Callahan crime family.
That bloody coronation could wait.
Suddenly, the sharp squeal of tires pierced the night behind us. I glanced in the mirror to see another car giving chase, its headlights cutting through the dark like predatory eyes fixed on us. “Hold on,” I muttered, swerving down an alley in an attempt to lose them.
“How the fuck are they following us?” Adriana asked.
“I don’t know. But if they come anywhere near you again, I’m going to kill them.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Adriana
My heart was in my stomach, pounding in tune with the flickering street lights rushing past us. I could barely process what was happening - the sudden, brutal violence, the shocking sight of Malachy falling… Tristan’s father. It felt like an awful dream.
“He’s gaining on us,” I said through clenched teeth, glancing anxiously at Tristan’s hardened profile. Fear laced his features, etching deep lines into his normally charming face. But beneath that fear was something else. Determination. Relentlessness. A predator fighting for his life...for our lives.
“Don’t worry,” Tristan replied tersely, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he slammed on the brakes then merged into the left lane of the narrow freeway.
The car following us swerved, trying to match our abrupt shift but wasn’t quick enough. Tristan floored it again, pushing our vehicle ahead and increasing the gap between us.
But our pursuer matched our speed, closing the distance.
“Tristan,” I warned as the car continued to gain. The headlights of the pursuing vehicle illuminated the interior of our car, making my heart pound in my chest. We were running out of time and options. “Is that Nick?”
“Yeah,” he said. “He must have noticed you escaped. I see him.”
“We need a plan,” I said, gripping the edge of my seat as he took the next exit and swerved onto another, even narrower, rain-slicked road. The street was darker here, the trees on either side tall and foreboding, their shadows swallowing up our car. There was no one for miles. We were on our own.
“We need distance first,” Tristan responded, his eyes scanning the rearview mirror. “Then we can think about what comes next.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, seeking some form of reprieve in the darkness. But the silence came with terrifying images - Malachy falling, Tristan’s fear-stricken face, the dark figure of our pursuer. The reality was even worse. Opening my eyes, I caught sight of Nick’s car closing in on us through the rearview mirror.
“Just keep driving,” I whispered, as though speaking too loud would alert him to our location.
A sharp turn nearly threw me against Tristan but he swiftly reached out, steadying me with his arm even as he kept his eyes on the road. “Stay low,” he murmured, and in spite of everything, his calmness brought me a semblance of comfort.
Tristan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he pushed the speed limit even further. We shot through the darkness like a bullet, the road a blur beneath us. The wind roared in my ears as I lowered the window slightly, squinting against the rush of air to get a better look at our pursuer.
I felt so sick. “Do you have a bag or…I need to throw up.”
“Glovebox, maybe?” Tristan offered, still looking through the rearview mirror. His voice was terse, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was fighting to keep his emotions in check. He was always the composed one, always had a plan. But tonight, even he seemed rattled.
I turned away as I emptied my stomach into the bag, the car swerving as Tristan took another sharp turn. The burning in my throat only added to the fear knotting my insides.
“You okay?”
“Better,” I said.
