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Maybe he was bullshitting, gambling on the off-chance Dean did have a woman.
Then again, Harlow people loved to talk. A couple of hours in this town, and Dean had learned about the soiree, about Emilia having Blaine… Given recent events and the scene at Maynard’s, it wouldn’t be hard to find someone willing to share gossip.
“Let me see.” Luciano’s raised voice battled against the rumbling wind. “Green eyes. Pretty blond. A feisty one, that’s for sure. I’m told she put up a good fight.”
Dean clenched his jaw and swung his car into Luciano’s again. The fucker was lying. He had to be. Hell, one trip to Maynard’s and any fool could have figured all those details out with just one tiny interaction.
“Give in now, Holloway. Or I’ll have Sarah pay the price.”
Sarah.
He said her name. That name from his mouth brought a higher panic, and Dean’s body turned cold all over. He couldn’t assume anything. Couldn’t continue as though Sarah was safe. Not until he saw her again with his own eyes. Free and alive. And yes, his survival would save lives, but right now one life lay at imminent risk.
But even Luciano’s request for Dean to give up wouldn’t fly. Giving up wouldn’t stop anyone from putting a bullet in his head, much less Sarah’s, with death by bullets the nicer outcome. First there would be torture—hours and hours of soul-crushing pain.
He swore again and slammed a fist into the steering wheel. As much as it seemed he should mull through the options, there was only one way out of this. He had to escape. Had to hope the universe bucked its trend of screwing him over. Maybe then he might live long enough to confirm Sarah was okay.
Between the engine sounds and rushing wind, a relative silence filled the space, so he turned to Luciano’s car and finally addressed the man.
“Don’t hurt her.” He jutted his chin toward a structure up ahead. “I’ll turn myself in. Just stop by the bridge up there, okay?”
Luciano gave a small nod and flicked a hand onward. The bridge, a small wooden structure, had room for only one car at a time. Luciano’s driver did the logical thing and slowed, allowing Dean to inch ahead, so Luciano could eventually stay behind and keep track of his new hostage.
Dean kept the SUV at speed and waited for the nose of Luciano’s car to slip back to the half way point of his. That’s when he slammed his foot to the brake and swung his steering wheel hard to the left, clenching his eyes shut as the tail end of his car slammed into the Alfa.
Both cars spun in opposite directions. The SUV crashed into the bridge’s thick end pillars, a loud crack a testament to the damaged wood. Dean’s chest bounced into the steering wheel and then ricocheted him into his seat, his back smashing into the leather and his mind swimming before he swung around to track the trajectory of Luciano’s car.
The sedan still skidded across a grass patch, the side soon slamming into a giant oak. Just like Dean’s car, Luciano’s bounced, but no bridge caught him, and the Alfa Romeo did a quick slide down the river’s embankment.
A heavy and quiet moment passed—Dean’s body turned numb through a clash of adrenaline and relief. Maybe he would live. But his life meant little if Sarah didn’t live too. And if they hurt her…
He had no idea where she was or if she was even still alive, but he couldn’t think on that, or he’d fail to be any use to anyone. So, he leaned across the middle console and pulled the glove box open, his Glock quick to slip out and greet him.
He might have made a vow to never kill again, but there were special circumstances for everything, and if he had to put a bullet in Luciano’s head to end all this, he would.
But first, find out about Sarah.
He kicked his door open and ran to the embankment. The Alfa Romeo’s hood lay submerged under the river’s murky water, the entire front end sinking fast. Luciano had somehow made it to the back seat, and he struggled with the back door. His driver lay slumped over the steering wheel, dead or passed out.
Dean held up the Glock and called out, “Don’t move.”
Luciano ceased with his frenzied movements, his wide stare colliding into Dean.
“Please.” Luciano darted his gaze about, the car sinking and sinking fast. Still, he didn’t move. Even this idiot could see a bullet would kill him before the water ever did. “We’ll call it even. Just get me out.”
Dean’s focus caught on the end of his Glock, Luciano still in his periphery. For the first time ever, he was alone with this fucker, a loaded gun pointed at his head. “Where’s Sarah?”
“One of the newbies has her down at her bar.” Luciano’s breaths were rugged and rushed. Meanwhile, Dean’s had turned shallow and near non-existent.
“She’s still alive?”
Luciano nodded.
A new silence took over. A frightening kind of calm.
Dean had the information he needed. He could kill Luciano—just wipe him off the face of the earth, never to bother anyone again. Luciano had chased him after all. So, a classic case of self-defense.
Faint sirens wailed in the background, likely the sheriff. Meanwhile, Luciano held stock-still, his gaze clinging to Dean as though he read what went through his head. As though he too had been in this position—with the unfettered chance to take out an adversary, once and forever—all Dean had to do was squeeze the trigger.
