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Nathaniel climbs in, wedging himself behind the backseat and James’s seat.
Once his door is shut, I take it as my cue to get moving.
Sucking in a deep breath to calm my nerves, I set my gun down in the console beside me and press my foot against the brake.
Thank god the car is an automatic.
My hands shaking, palm sweaty, I grab the shifter and move it into drive.
Lifting my foot from the brake, I push down on the gas.
The car moves forward so fast it freaks me out, so I slam on the brake.
We jolt to a sudden hard stop.
The car fills with curses.
“Jesus!”
“Fuck!”
“Shit!”
I cringe in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
It was a total rookie mistake.
James looks over at me with wide eyes. “You do know how to drive, don’t you?”
Knowing they’ll kick me out of the car and Gabriel will die if I tell the truth, the lie easily slips through my lips. “Of course, I know how to drive.”
Gripping the steering wheel hard, I release the brake and move my foot back to the gas pedal. “I’m just a little rusty…”
21
Jude
Simon is screaming something from the back room, but over the hail of bullets and small explosions of glass and steel, I can’t make it out.
“What’s he yelling about?” I shout to Johnathan.
“Something about the cellular cutting out just now,” Johnathan yells back to me before he starts pushing his table towards the door of the building.
Well fuck. What calvary we have is either going to be coming late to the party or not at all.
Putting my shoulder to the table, I shove it up to blockade the door, and then move quickly to get another table.
Shoving that one on top of the other table, I look over to Johnathan and motion to the back. “Anyone hit?”
“That Russian fucker got hit in the kneecap from a ricochet,” he grunts. “Lucifer got grazed across his thigh.”
“Is it serious?” I ask.
“No. Andrew is taking care of it.”
Nodding my head, I slowly move over to a small broken window and peek out.
I probably shouldn’t have because seeing at least eight vehicles out there not counting ours is not a welcoming sight.
