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“Crap, I got some grease on the damn thing,” he reaches for the equally soiled towel. “Shit.”
I laugh. “You’re a freaking mess, hurry it up, will you.”
“Yeah, you could help, you know. Hand me the wipes from the front seat.” He pulls his keys out of his pocket, but his fingers are slick, so they fall to the ground.
“Jesus, Stieg,” I say as I drop down to pick it up. That’s when I hear the two gunshots ring out and see Stieg collapse to the pavement clutching his right shoulder. “Stieg!” I grab him and quickly drag him behind the car out of the aim of the shooter.
My heart pounds wildly as I draw my gun and ease around the side of the car trying to get a glimpse of the shooter.
“The fucker shot me!” Stieg groans. His hands are covered in blood.
“Shit! I can’t see anyone,” I reply as my eyes scan the wooded area across from the parking lot. It’s dark but judging from the trajectory, I have a general sense of where he might be. “I heard two shots. Were you hit anywhere else?”
“I…I don’t think so. Son of a bitch!” he yells.
“Just hold on, I’m going to get you some help.” I risk another look and note that the sounds of the shots don’t seem to have penetrated the music and chatter at the banquet hall. I know Dmitri and his brother are protecting Madison. My primary concern now is Stieg…and the shooter if he’s still out there.
My rage is mounting. Who the fuck sent a shooter to a wedding?
“Damn it!” I can’t call Madison down here with the shooter still out there, plus her cell phone is in her purse at our table. “Shit.” I remove my jacket, ball it up, and press it against his shoulder. “Hold on to this. You need to apply pressure to the wound. I’m going for help.”
I jump when I hear a car door slam and an engine roar to life. I peer back around the corner in time to see a black Escalade pull out into the open in an attempt to speed away. I leap out and start firing at it. The passenger side window shatters under a hail of bullets. I aim lower to take out the tires. The car flies out of control and crashes into a storage building.
I take off after him, the bitter cold no longer a factor while in hot pursuit of the shooter. Only twenty feet away, the driver’s door opens. The culprit takes one look in my direction and then takes off running. I fire again, aiming low at his legs. I want him alive to get the truth out of him. I need confirmation that Orlov sent him.
I’m certain a bullet caught him in the leg because he nearly stumbles, but pure adrenaline keeps him moving. Now he heads out onto the main street. If I have to put a bullet in his back to keep him from escaping, I will.
He reaches the street and turns to look back. He pulls his gun. Right when I duck for cover a truck comes barreling down the road and mows him down. The truck driver never even slowed down, much less stop.
I ran up the slope and onto the roadway where the shooter lay motionless. As expected, he’s unconscious, and the awkward position of his limbs tell me they were broken and shattered. I check for a pulse. It’s faint, we’ll have to work fast to extract any information from him. I drag him back onto the safety of the grass and then place a call to have one of my guys come collect him.
Now that the immediate danger seems to be over, I dash back to Stieg.
Chapter 23 – Sinking Deeper in the Mire
“Madison,wehavetogo,” comes the urgent words from Sebastian as he holds my coat open urging me to put it on.
I look apologetically at the young couple I’d been speaking to as I stick my arms through the sleeves. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Oh…you too,” the woman says a little wrong footed by Sebastian’s abruptness. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thanks,” I manage to say as Sebastian pulls me away in a vice-like grip. He pushes through the crowd ignoring any who might attempt to speak to him. At first, I thought he was merely rescuing me from a boring conversation, but I quickly realize something’s terribly wrong.
As we head for the doors, I ask, “Bash, what’s going on?”
The rush of cold air hits us like a brick wall and suddenly all I care about is getting out of it. We’re practically running to the car. Once we’re inside, Bash wastes no time firing up the engine. The tires squeal as we pull out of the parking lot and onto the road.
“Bash,” I say hesitantly. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
His face is a tense mask of concern. “We have to get back to the house, I’ll explain once we get there.”
“Explain what?” I say anxiously as I watch the speedometer climb past 70mph. “Please, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
His eyes remain straight ahead as his jaw clenches tight. “Natasha’s dad decided to let me know what he thought of ending the engagement.”
I jolt to attention and now I’m angry. “What did he do?” My mind is all over the place. Sebastian is unharmed, but there’s no telling what kind of damage Victor may have done. But the way we’re speeding back to the house…is that where he struck while we were at the wedding?
“He fired a shot at me.”
