I mimic Dimitri’s butt-clenching maneuvers until we slot in behind him three miles out from Sandy Plains. When our eyes lock and hold in the rearview mirror of his sports car, my jaw grits. He’s got his game face on—the very face he wears anytime Fien’s name is whispered in his ear. He isn’t backing down for anything or anyone.
After working through the gears, I pull the Buick into the emergency lane. Dimitri’s stern expression exposes there’s no chance of him seeing sense through the madness, but I’m hopeful as fuck Justine isn’t wearing her stubborn pants today.
“Fuck!” I push out with a roar when Dimitri suddenly brakes before he whizzes onto an off-ramp.
I slam on my brakes just as quickly, but the Buick doesn’t have the grunt needed to reach the set of lights Dimitri’s ride just sailed through before the light switches to amber.
“You won’t make it,” Caidyn cautions when I increase my pressure on the gas pedal instead of weakening it.
“I will. There’s a gap between the bus and the truck.”
While checking his seat belt is properly latched, Caidyn shakes his head. “That’s a scooter gap, not a fucking Buick’s.”
“I’ll make it. I swear. I don’t have time to brake.” The longer Demi is at Petretti’s, the more her safety is compromised. That alone sees me flattening my foot to the floor. I’m not just racing to save my baby sister from a monster, my girl’s safety is on the line as well.
As we zoom over the white line I should be yielding at, Caidyn murmurs, “Fucking hell. I’m about to die.”
His rapid blinks match the frantic flash of the truck driver’s headlights when he warns me that he can’t slow down. We’ll either dart between him and a minivan with not even an inch to spare or plow headfirst into the side of a semi. I really fucking hope I haven’t miscalculated our run.
“Clench your ass cheeks, Caidyn. I’m about to teach you how to fly.”
When we sail across the intersection a hair’s breadth in front of the grill of a semi, the truck driver’s horn shrills through my ears as loudly as Caidyn’s panicked roar. “Jesus-fucking- Christ!”
The Buick’s underbody crunches into the asphalt on the other side a mere second before the scent of burning rubber lingers in the air. We’re alive, being abused by motorists, and I’m reasonably sure I just shit myself.
When I chuckle about my last reference, Caidyn looks at me as if I’m insane. “I don’t give a fuck what Mom says, I’m scheduling you an appointment with Dr. Avery the instant this is over.” My laughter is ill-timed, but there’s no holding it back when he whispers to himself, “I think I just shit myself.”
While he checks his pants for wetness, I scan the street seeking any sign as to which way Dimitri went. This area is miles away from his mega-mansion on Sandy Plains road, both in distance and stature. It’s rundown and riddled with homeless people.
Well, so I thought.
“Is that a Windham M-Lok?” Caidyn asks after taking in the same confronting visual as me. “They’re eighteen hundred dollars a pop. How the fuck can a homeless man afford that?”
I’ve never been more grateful for my inability not to be a hothead when the man Caidyn is gawking at spots our stalk. He pushes back the cardboard concealing the second half of his expensive gun before recognition dawns on his face as to why our ride is so familiar. Rocco’s ride instantly changes the expression on his face. If we were in Caidyn’s jeep, we would have been sprayed with bullets by now.
Once Caidyn reaches the same conclusion as me, he mutters, “We’re heading in the right direction.”
I jerk up my chin in agreement before seeking more hidden militiamen in the tented community. They guide our route through the backstreets of Hopeton. It’s a painstakingly slow process, but the dividends are undeniable when it leads us to a large concrete structure in the far west corner of the suburb. The men in front of this compound don’t hide their weapons. They’re in plain view for all to see while they walk the fence line surrounding both the warehouse setting and Dimitri’s pricy ride.
“What now…” Caidyn’s words shift to silence when the shrill of my cell phone rumbles out of the Buick’s speakers. “Is that him?”
I shouldn’t know who he’s referencing since he only spoke three short words, however, I do. His voice had way too much disdain for me to believe he was referring to anyone but Dimitri.
Confident Dimitri is calling to gloat about his victory, I push the call button before growling out, “I swear to fuckin’ God, Dimitri, if you don’t bring my sister out here immediately, I’m going to wring your fucking neck—”
He cuts off my tirade with words much more threatening. “If you want your sister to get out of tonight alive, I suggest you shut your mouth and listen to me.” The pure honesty in his tone stills both Caidyn’s and my chests. “Tell the goon manning the gate that you need to go to the Gauntlet, give him the passcode ‘cannon.’ When you arrive, fall to your knees and fucking beg. Say anything and everything Col wants to hear.”
“Dimitri…”
When shock steals my words, Caidyn takes up the slack. “What the fuck is going on?”
My heart launches into my throat when Dimitri replies as if Caidyn’s question was asked by me. “You said you’d die for your sister, right?”
Caidyn’s brows pull together when I answer, “Yeah.”
The clutter of an old steel door being slammed shut sounds down the line before Dimitri says, “Tonight is your chance to prove that. Your life for hers, Maddox. I don’t see Col taking any less.”
I stare at the Buick’s dashboard for the next several seconds, unmoving and unspeaking, then all of a sudden, a light inside my head switches on.
