“Friends of yours?” She cranked the wheel, and the car sped toward the exit.
I laughed, the sound hollow and lacking mirth. “Foreign drug runners? Never.”
“Heavens to Betsy, you involved me with the cartel? The freaking cartel!” Rae downshifted and tore through the exit to the Conley Container Terminal. “They’re following us!”
“Not the cartel. These guys aren’t that organized.” I powered down my window. “You have ten minutes before the cops have their cameras back online.”
Rae blew out a long, growling breath. “Where am I going?”
“Take the next right. There’s a warehouse back in the industrial park where we’ll deal with these tails.” I poked my head out the window but quickly ducked back inside.
Gunshots rang through the air.
Rae veered the car and stepped on the gas. “Are they shooting at us!”
“Yes.” There was no point lying to her.
“My paint job!” Her words were full of fire. The anger was palpable, licking my skin and signing my ears.
I fucking loved it. “I know a guy who can fix that.”
“Fuck you, Nico,” she spat. “I hate your guts right now.”
She was pissed.
Her driving as though the hounds of hell were on her tail was such a fucking turn on. I was rock hard, my dick straining eagerly to have her again.
“Admit it, my little bomb, you like this.”
“I most certainly do not—”
A bullet glanced off the back windshield. I tugged her head down, rage ripping through me with a violent gust. For all her inner strength, Rae was trembling. This car was her safe space—the one thing she controlled. And this high-speed chase was putting that to the test.
Emanuele opened fired behind us, forcing the truck to retreat.
I brushed my hand over Rae’s neck, but she jerked, shaking me off.
“You trust me to drive?” she snapped, trying to cover her fear with anger. “I’m not aMade Man.”
I smirked at her mockery. “There are very few people I trust, but I’m not letting anything happen to you, Rae.”
She nodded once and swallowed hard.
“Hey, you’re doing great,” I breathed. “Turn here.”
Some part—maybe the brakes, maybe the wheels—screamed as she flew off the road. My hand slammed on the dash, the other shot out to grab her thigh. I couldn’t say if it was anchoring me…or her.
Either way, it felt right.
“You’ve done this before,” I muttered, as she zigzagged around the buildings.
“The sheriff’s boys never shot at us!” she hissed. “I learned how to survive young.”
One of the trucks took a left behind us, disappearing behind an abandoned cannery. Luigi shot down the next break in the brick structures, giving chase. That left the other vehicle to pursue us.
“You don’t have to anymore,” I growled, giving her thigh a squeeze before leaning out the window with my gun. “I’ve got you.”
She snorted. “Yeah, in the middle of a warzone.”
