AllFreeNovel
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Arty always sends blue cars— I don’t know why, but it’s just his thing. The driver's seat is open, and I can see someone sitting in the passenger side. The second I open the door and slide in, I can tell the entire van is full.
“Are you all ready to stir shit up?” I ask as I buckle my belt frantically.
“Fuck yeah.” A few of them say.
“What’s that?” I ask, revving the engine of the Hyundai like it’s an exotic sports car.
“Fuck yeah!” They all shout this time and I swing it into drive, zooming out of the alleyway and straight for the main road. I know there are other cars following us because Arty would have sent more than just a car-full to me, and because he told me that’s what he’s doing. I drive haphazardly and aggressively, though. The boys following me can take it, they always pull through, and they aren’t new to something like this.
We’re flying against time, gliding over the sleek pavement that promises to wreck us if I keep driving like this, but I won’t stop. Nothing will stop me from getting there before my father.
We peel around corners, weave in and out of traffic like a fast and furious movie, and run red lights with no complaint from anyone in the car. They live for this shit. It’s why they’re in the special division of the Bratva that deals with more nefarious acts and tends to bend more rules than they should. It’s why they’re perfect for this, and why I think we might have a chance against my father and all the mindless goons he’s ordering to do this.
We’re a minute from the San Giovanni’s, turning down the last corner of the street, and then I see the open gates through the heavy rain and I know this is our immediate in. I turn into them and ignore the security sitting in the booth. It’s odd, he didn’t even try to stop me.
He looks almost— before I can finish that thought, I see the hoard of cars outside. My father’s cars. Men with guns and black attire headed to the front door as swarms of Sicilian boys come out of every door at the front of the house.
It looks like the beginning of a war.
“Shit.” I smack the steering wheel with both hands. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I growl, hitting the wheel each time I curse under my breath.
“We have to go around the back entrance.” The passenger guy says— white hair, midnight skin, white tattoo of a dragon along his jaw and curving around the outline of his face, stopping just above his sharp brows.
“No.”
“I’m telling you, that’s the only way around this.”
“I’m telling you, no. There isn’t a back entrance for cars.”
“Well, there is a garden we can drive through—“
“No.” I shake my head, knowing how much that thing means to Espie. It was a gift from her mother and I won’t be the one to destroy that too. I’ve already fucked everything up enough. This is me making it right, not worsening it.
“Well, we don’t have another choice.” He takes the wheel and turns it right towards the garden. I try to take it back, but he has muscles bigger than my torso, and he isn’t giving up. I lift my foot off the gas, but by that point we’ve barreled past the ensuing war and are flying over a hedge like we’re in a monster truck. The lift off the ground gives me a chance to take the wheel back just before we land, and I manage to steer us away from the garden and onto a walking path.
Grass and mud fly up around us as we spiral out of control at the back of the house. Eventually, we stop when a large tree branch from the storm pops one of the tires and immediately skids us out. The car tilts for only a moment, and then we sink a bit to the left.
“Everyone good?” I ask and there are mumbles ofyes’s, so I glare at dragon man and slide out of the car.
“You’re welcome.” He jeers and I shake my head looking at the donut rings of mud and grass in the backyard. Thankfully, we flew over the garden and the only thing that probably needs to be replanted, is the hedge we clobbered.
I get a glimpse of the back door and as I start moving towards it, the group joins me.
“Are the other cars gonna be here soon?” I whisper so as not to give us away before we can help. We’ll most definitely be mistaken for intruders, especially considering the Russians on the front lawn and all that, but I would rather not activate them prematurely. Not before I can explain myself and help them.
“Yeah. Freshie over here will wait for them.” I tilt my eyes back to see a blue and green haired, buzz-cut, mocha-skinned, almond eyed boy no older than I was when I started to take big missions with big consequences.
“Shouldn’t someone a bit… older be left to wait?” I look back to a very unimpressed look fromdragon tattooman, and I shrug in response. “Just a suggestion.”
“He’s our most accurate shot in the entire division.” He notes, clearly irritated with my questioning of his aide. I glance back to Freshie, who’s smiling at me with the nicest grin, a grin that hasn’t seen death yet. Innocent, eager to do his job well— even if he doesn’t know what that means just yet.
“Very well. Good luck.” I nod to him, chest strangely tight for not usually giving a shit about these types of things. Dragon tattoo grunts in response, kicking down the back door like it's a domino and I step inside wordlessly, though it’s highly impressive.
I’ve never been down in this kitchen before, and I have absolutely no idea where to go, so I opt to run through it, all the way to the exit. No one is here, which means they’re probably in a safe room, but would Espie have time to get there? Or would she be somewhere else?
It seems impossible to find anyone in a house this huge, especially when I don’t know the layout or where Espie would even be.
“Let’s split up.” I whisper todragon tattoo, and he gives me a nod, signaling where to go with his hands. The men behind me break apart, but he sticks by my side.
