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I know him.I’ve seen him recently outside the bridal boutique when Tiny Tony manhandled him. But I know him from when I worked at the firm. He worked as a custodian at night and only started there right before I quit. I’m not used to seeing him with his long hair shaved off; perhaps that’s why I didn’t recognize him that day outside the bridal store. Jacob must have recruited him for this job and paid him big bucks to do it. The driver turns his attention back to the road, and my hopes are dashed.
“Mind your own fucking business, Jesse,” Jacob snaps before returning his attention to me. “We’re finally back together. We’re going back home to San Diego, where we can continue our life as it was always meant to be. I’ll even let you keep this little business of yours. I’ll give you the fucking kids you always hounded me about. I’ll give you everything you need. This past year will be a wash, and we will never talk of it again.”
Dread washes over me when I see the feral look in his eyes. I clamp my thighs together right before he tries to pry them apart, using my bound hands like a battering ram against him.
With a growl, he grabs my taped hands in one of his and hoists them above my head, while his other hand works to undo his pants. I scream harder against the tape when I feel his erection spring from the confines of his boxers and rub against my legs.
“It’s been too long, Jo. Too fucking long since I’ve been inside of you,” he says, trying again to pry my legs apart.
He kisses each of my breasts through the dress and bites at my nipples. I screech, but it’s no use with my mouth covered. It must annoy him because he backhands me hard across the face. My head whips to the side. I see stars, and my vision goes spotty. He takes my moment of weakness to open my legs, but is stopped by the tape binding my lower legs together.
He growls in frustration, pulling a knife from his pocket and cutting the tape. It snaps me out of my haze, and I start kicking at him with all I have, knocking the knife to the floor of the van. My legs are probably the strongest part on my body from all my running, and I’m going to use them as a weapon. I pretend I can hear Maceo in my head, chanting, coaching me on how best to crush Jacob with my legs.
Fight, Jo. Harder. Kick harder. Don’t stop.
I get him good—several times in the chest. He snaps and grabs for my neck, putting his full weight on my body.
“You will learn to love me again,” he snarls and squeezes my throat.
I try to hit him with my bound hands, but my hits grow weaker because my airway is blocked.
I see images of my handsome fiancé flash through my mind. His million-watt smile. His deep baritone laugh. His strong arms wrapped around me, protectively. The smell of his woodsy scent consuming my senses. The steady beat of his heart under my hand.
If I have to die, at least I die with memories of Maceo flooding my oxygen-depraved mind.
Maceo, I love you.
My vision blurs until everything goes black.
* * *
Maceo
I race south down I-25, going over a hundred miles per hour in the SUV. I know it’s only a matter of time ‘till I reach the van. This guy may have sped out of the city, but he’ll do everything he can to not draw attention to himself on the interstate. Luke has already informed interstate police of my pursuit, and they will not chase me, only the van.
I hear the roar of motorcycles and spot Reaper and Brass in my rearview mirror. My brothers have come to fight beside me. I press down on the gas and swerve around traffic with Reaper and Brass following me.
Every black vehicle grabs my attention, and I’m about to lose my shit when I spot the van. I press the accelerator to the floor. I speed up alongside it and look over at the driver, who makes eye contact with me. His nose looks like it’s broken, and he has a river of red running down his face. I pray he’s the one whose blood was in the parking lot and not my pixie’s. His eyebrows shoot to top of his forehead, and he starts shouting over his shoulder. Maybe he’s shouting at Josephine, or maybe he’s shouting at Jacob.
Whatever is said makes him step on the accelerator. I keep pace with him and roll down my window. The guy panics and shouts over his shoulder again. Another person comes into view and leans over the console of the van, staring at me.
Fucking loafer-dick himself.
Anger floods my veins. “Pull the fuck over!” I shout loud enough my voice shakes the remaining closed windows of my SUV.
Jacob gives me the finger and starts barking orders at the driver, who looks like he’s about to have a panic attack. He yanks the wheel to the left and rams his van against my vehicle. I quickly correct my steering to keep myself from flipping the SUV. With a roar of frustration, I remind myself I can’t ram them back because Josephine is in their vehicle.
Reaper and Brass pull up behind the van. Reaper darts up the right side and speeds around the van till he’s in front. It’s a dangerous move, but it makes the driver slow down. Since there’s no way around, the van is forced to keep slowing down or do something drastic. The driver is not as much of a risk-taker as Jacob is, and he continues to lose speed as Reaper slows down more ahead of him. Jacob is screaming his head off.
Up ahead I see Punk and Gauge with the rest of the crew, waiting in the median. They pull out as they see us approach and create an impossible link to cross unless the driver plows them over. Highway patrol is coming into view ahead and has the entire highway barricaded, and more interstate officers close in behind us. There’s nowhere for these fuckers to go.
The van comes to a screeching halt, and Brass has to swing right and into the ditch to avoid hitting the van. Thankfully he’s able to keep his bike up and not crash.
I slam on my breaks and jump out of the SUV with my weapon drawn. “Get the fuck out of the van with your hands up,” I shout, positioning myself behind the hood of my vehicle. I don’t know if they’re packing, which stops me from rushing the van. I have no tactical gear on for protection and getting myself shot or killed is not on my to-do list.
The driver jumps out and makes a run for it up the hill to the right. Brass is on his ass fast. The guy goes flying when Brass takes him out low like the defensive linebacker he was before becoming a SEAL.
My attention homes in on the van as Jacob emerges with an unconscious Josephine over his shoulder. He has a heavy duty hunting knife pressed against her side. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll end both our lives,” he shouts.
