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Blissful quiet.
All I can hear is the hissing of the engine, and I can feel the wind tickling my face through the broken window next to my head—a window I’m fairly certain is broken because my head went through it.
Pressure against my abdomen and shoulder makes my body hurt so much I can hardly draw air.
I swallow hard and glance around. Something wet is in my eyes. Blood, I realise. I swipe it away.
The bodyguard is moving in the front. “Everyone okay?” He already has a gun in his hand.
“Mrs Fraser, are you all right?”
My head is throbbing and my whole body feels bruised. I’m alive though, and that’s what matters, right?
“I’m okay,” I push the words out eventually.
“Mr Fraser?”
Fuck, Kane.
I twist to glance at my husband. His side window is still intact, but I can see the car we hit through the glass, which he’s leaning his head against. His eyes are closed and there’s blood careening down his face.
“Kane?” I try to reach for him, but I’m held in place by my seatbelt, which has locked me tightly in place.
“Is he conscious?” the bodyguard demands.
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m going to get us out of here,” he promises.
I give my attention back to Kane who is starting to rouse. “Kane? Wake up.”
He blinks rapidly before turning to me. “You’re bleeding.” His voice cracks out like a whip.
“So are you.”
He peers around the wreckage. “We were run off the road. Can you get free of your seatbelt? We need to get out of here—”
A gun shot blasts the air. My heart stops as the bodyguard raises his gun and starts firing back.
“Elena, undo your seatbelt. Quickly.” I don’t miss the desperation in his tone.
I fumble with the mechanism, my heart racing. Even if I get out of the seat, we’re caught like fish in a barrel. There is no way out. I struggle, my fingers shaking as my adrenaline levels spike. Kane reaches over and gets me free, then he pulls me towards him.
He doesn’t hesitate. He pushes me into the foot-well between the front and back seat and lies on top of me. I can barely breathe, but I’m more focused on surviving this attack.
The sound of the gun fight is loud and terrifying. I curl as small as I can, aware of my husband protecting me with his body.
Screams fill the air, innocent people caught up in our shit. I wonder who the hell is firing. Why they want us dead.
Why they want me dead.
Two attacks, both aimed at me.
It’s not a coincidence.
That makes my heart thump harder.
After what feels like forever, the shooting stops.
