It’s true.
Arturo is behind this.
As I moved without thinking, reaching into the glovebox for the spare gun, I narrowed my eyes at the sight of one of the strangers operating the truck. The truck that I knew for a fact belonged to the Cartel. The truck that was aiming to plow into the Volkovs’ van again.
“You stay with me,” Maksim growled as he slammed his shoulder against his door, gun in hand as well.
At least you’re not telling me to stay out of the way.
Heart racing, rage brewing, I ducked down to be ready to crawl out after Maksim and help his men survive.
To back him up. Tosupporthim.
Like Elena had said.
If this was going to morph into a dangerous trip back and my husband could face a severe threat, I intended to do all I could to save him as well.
Because Elena really was right that one day at lunch.
The fear of anything happening to this strong, considerate man was too much to bear.
It wasn’t a weakness to love these Volkov men.
It gave me strength to fight harder for them.
I loved Maksim, and the admission only fueled me to run faster toward the crash on the highway.
23
MAKSIM
Isprinted toward the van as fast as I could. Pumping my arms and digging my feet into the scorched dirt, I prayed I’d reach it before Carina did.
So I could protect her.
So I could block her.
So I could make sure my body was in front of hers as the men fired.
I would take a bullet for her. I would surrender myself to save her in any way I could.
But she was too damn fast.
She was too nimble and agile. All that time in the gym and on her runs paid off in the heat of the moment.
Carina ran alongside me, ruining my intention of shielding her in this fight. But I couldn’t fault her. She wasn’t stupid enough to rely on me for safety. She wasn’t gullible enough to believe that she should defer to me when our survival was on the line.
My wife was sharp enough to do what was necessary. And if it meant keeping pace with me and then passing me to reach safety faster, then that was what she had to do.
“Watch out!” she yelled it as an order to Dean. Just as she reached the roof of the van that was on its side, the wheels still spinning in the air, she crouched low and kept her hands on the gun. She braced her back against the metal surface of the toppled van, aiming the weapon to shoot at anyone who tried to take me out until I reached her a few seconds later.
She was hidden, looking out for Dean, who was out in the open.
The car he’d been driving wasn’t hit. Mine was. The van was. But he was backing up, tires smoking on the pavement, as he tried to redirect his path. Instead of fleeing, he angled up to ram into the truck that had plowed into the van. Engine revving and the frame swaying, he dug in to attack.
But he couldn’t have realized another car was coming in from behind him if he was so focused on speeding into the truck and firing.
Before I could stop her, Carina narrowed her eyes at me. “You cover for him and I’ll cover for you.”
