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Hold up, was he talking about her? Her nostrils flared, and she rolled the lipstick in her hand. Inching forward and toward the center console. Wait for it…
Danyael protested. “Rurik, insisted. He said one person was not enough to guard her.”
Petur shrugged. “He was right.”
“No, no.” Hannah cried out, too late.
Danyael’s next argument ended when the bullet burrowed into his head, shattering the window on its exit.
The sound reverberated in her ears, accompanied by Hannah’s high-pitched scream. Or was it hers? But Hannah didn’t wait. She leaped forward, using the crook of her arm to grab Petur’s neck. Twisting it. Shit, the car swerved, snaking wildly, across the highway. Shit. Shit. She raced for the gun. Knocking it out of the way when Hannah didn’t release Petur even as the car itself swerved, as if the vehicle tried to shake her loose. Jessa reached around the struggling couple to grab the wheel. No, not the wheel! The car spun her back into the window and she clawed forward again. Fighting the wild momentum. Grab the gear shift, stupid. She wrenched the stick nestled between the two front seats. Slamming the car into park. Ignoring the squealed protest of brakes and wheels.
Petur’s fist pounded the octopus grip of Hannah’s arms. His other hand searched the seat. Shit, the gun. Hannah wouldn’t be able to hold him much longer. But she couldn’t reach the gun. Not without getting out of the car. Shit. She wouldn’t leave Hannah. She ducked down to grab the lipstick. There it was, by her foot. Petur’s fist had given up the search and turned instead to slam into the side of her head. Hannah’s head whipped back, and Jessa saw the stars even if Hannah didn’t when he clipped her. Damn, that fucker was strong. He focused on Hannah and turned in his seat to grab her again. His mistake. His throat swung around, slicing itself on her knife as she reached to stab him.
Stab, not slice. Shit, her mistake. His eyes swung to hers as they widened in shock. His hands grabbed his neck to staunch the flow of blood. Shit, he wasn’t bleeding enough. And she lost the knife again. Ripped out of her hands when he’d swung around. Got to get the gun.
Couldn’t leave Hannah. “C’mon girl,” she shouted at her dazed student. Pulling her out the side door away from Petur, who also stumbled out of the car. She needed that fucking gun, but it was on the front passenger floor. Or at least that was the last place she’d seen it. They ran, keeping the car between them as he chased them. Holding his neck and kicking up sand.
“Fucking bitches.”
Right back at you, motherfucker. But she kept her lips slammed shut. Had to focus. Could they get in the car and lock the door? Maybe get the keys?
A car raced up the highway and slammed to a stop. Who?
They stopped their mulberry bush chase at the same moment Sanyet torpedoed Petur.
Thank you, God. Thank you, Uncle Mike, and Lou, and Brendan. Thank you, Rurik. Even Thank Sanyet. Oh, the list was long. But she couldn’t stop. Thank the car. The desert, the brakes. Her chest curled over the car as she took deep, racking breaths in and out. She braced her forearms on the hood and rested her head.
The blast of a bullet shot her head back up. And she dropped to her knees, looking around. What the fuck? Were there more? Hannah sat in the highway car facing her with Rurik kneeling between her thighs. Okay. It wasn’t them. She peeked around the rear fender.
Shit! Petur’s knee was a blob of blood streaking white tissue and bone on the side of his leg. On the freaking side of his leg. On the ground. Not on his body. Her eyes didn’t blink. They couldn’t move. Her mind shifted into insanity. Sliding like the gears of a car. Gear one, normal. Gear two, odd. Gear three, a little nuts. Gear four, fucking insane. Bat shit. Get the shock therapy paddles ready as it tried to process the unbelievable. Did it look a little like Petur was sitting with a strawberry sundae by his leg? Yes, that was it. A giant ball of vanilla ice cream and red streams of strawberry syrup cascaded over it. It was insane but shit.
She shook her head. “Wrong answer. Who the fuck sent you?” Sanyet growled. Boring his gun into Petur’s eye until more crimson cried out.
“Please Sanyet, I have children.”
“Then tell me what I want to know, so I don’t visit them after your death.”
Petur gurgled some more, but Sanyet only shook his head and blew off another knee. Shit. Her eyes almost popped out of her head before she ducked back behind the car. Shit. Shit. Peter howled like a man being castrated. Babbling more incoherent pleas for mercy as he lost another body part. Damn Petur, just tell him. Minutes passed along with three more shots before he cried out the answer. Begging harder than before.
Sanyet was silent. No more questions. She stood up. They could go home. Thank you, G —
Another blast blew Petur’s brains across the desert. The skin and flesh sizzled when it hit the burning sand. Like meat being laid on a grill. That’s all it was. Meat being laid on a hot skillet. She’d knelt back down, and her eyes froze on the macabre scene. Parts of the splatter had landed inches from her face. She held on to the tire still burning from traversing the desert asphalt and met Sanyet’s eyes before bending over and puking. Her body violently ejecting everything she’d eaten for the last week.
She retched until there was nothing left except air and organs, and still her stomach heaved to reject that too.
She stood up, keeping her eyes on the killer facing her. The two of them squared off, feet away from each other. His eyes blinked and softened for a second. Before he blinked any softness away like a desert mirage. His lips pressed into a firm line. “Ah, dove. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Jessalyn stood up, she didn’t need her uncles to tell her to never turn her back on a predator. Easy prey instinct. But damn she wanted to turn and run. Needed to. Her legs trembled with the effort to stand still and not startle him. She raised her hands to the surrender position, but uh, hell no. There had to be a way besides begging because the brains cooking on the desert floor told her how well that worked.
“Sanyet, I didn’t see anything…”
He cocked his head. “You saw enough.”
Her eyes held his with the same death grip Hannah had used on Petur while her foot tiptoed back. His brow arched. He cocked the gun. She raised her hands to block. Instinct took over from logic and screamed, “No.” Closing her eyes and wincing before the bullet hit.
But then a gust of wind blew by, and Hannah stood between her and Sanyet. Her mousy, mysterious student turned into a lioness. Shielding her with the armor of her body. Followed by Rurik, her husband. The two of them arguing and fighting to position themselves in front of her. With Rurik trying to shove Hannah back.
No words registered over the frantic beating of her heart. Fuck them all. She had to get away. There were two cars. Both with open doors. Which one offered a better chance? She was just about to make a run for Rurik’s still running car. When Sanyet dropped the weapon and smiled.
