Page 266 of Lorenzo

Two.

Then another.

My sleepiness begins evaporating.

Wait.

I stare at the date.

My pulse gives a strange little jump.

No.

I count again because I must have missed something.

I did not.

A slow realization begins forming through the fog in my brain.

Something so obvious that I cannot believe I have not thought of it.

Something that suddenly makes several other things make a lot more sense.

Scarfing down a box of crackers, eating three helpings of pasta, plus apple crostata, all of my emotions, being weepy.

I straighten a little more.

“Lorenzo…”

The SUV jerks violently sideways.

My shoulder slams into him as tires scream against wet pavement.

Mocha barks sharply from the floor as he tries to find purchase with his claws.

Someone shouts from the front.

The phone flies out of Lorenzo’s hand as another impact hits us from the side, hard enough to throw me against the seat belt.

The SUV fishtails across the slick pavement, and suddenly we are spinning out of control.

Chapter Thirty Three

Lorenzo

Donna crashes against me as the rear of the SUV swings around, tires tearing through wet gravel and mud before we hit something solid enough to stop us with a jolt that snaps my head forward.

For half a second, there is only the sound of rain striking the roof and the sharp ringing in my ears.

Then gunfire erupts somewhere behind us.

Donna is already moving.

Whatever sleep had been pulling her under thirty seconds ago is gone. She yanks her seat belt free while reaching beneath her coat, and by the time I have my own belt off, she has her gun in her hand.

Mocha is wedged low between the seats, tense and alert, his ears forward as he tracks the noise outside.

More shots crack through the night.