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"Down, Lucia," Atlas barks.
I tuck under the chest strap of the seatbelt and bend in half, my arms wrapped around my knees, my head resting sideways on them.
The car swerves right to left and then back again.
"We're taking fire," Atlas says to his brother, his voice filled with quiet rage.
"Orion and his team are heading your way."
Atlas climbs into the far backseat and I hear a soft whir, then the road noise gets louder. He's opened the back window somehow.
"Atlas, get away from the window," I yell, but I don't lift my head.
"Don't worry, Lucia, my X7 is designed for this."
For firefights? How dangerous is his life? Armored cars are not uncommon in our world, but SUVs tricked out to make shooting at pursuers possible? Not so much.
He shoots at whoever is pursuing us and then grunts. "One down, nine to go."
He starts whistlingAnother One Bites the Dustand despite the situation I smile.
"Are you whistling, boss?" Theo demands from the front.
Two more shots sound and then the cacophony of a crashing vehicle. The window whirs as it rises back into place and Atlas comes back over the seat.
He rubs my back. "You can sit up now,ílios mou."
I jerk upright and examine Atlas for any injuries. But there's nothing. "You're okay?" I ask.
"I am. Were you worried about me?" He sounds almost bemused. "No reason to be. I'm very good at what I do."
"Like gold medal good," Theo pipes up.
Great. The man I love is a gold medal killer. Better that than dead though.
And yes, I do love him. I knew before the whole protection money debacle, but have been trying to convince myself it was anything but love for the last week.
"I'm so glad for you. Everyone should have something they are good at," I say acerbically. "But don't scare me like that again. What if they had shot you through the open window?"
"Nah. The opening was too small and both of our vehicles were moving. Only a handful of shooters in the world could have made that shot."
"It's a good thing they weren't using armor piercing rounds," Theo adds. "The window would have shattered then."
I gasp.
Atlas barks something at Theo in Greek.
"Sorry," the other man says contritely. "I didn't mean to upset you, Lucia."
"Um, you didn't. I mean, if they had used armor piercing rounds, I would be more than upset. But Atlas is okay."
"You care," Atlas teases me.
I'm not reacting to that statement. At all. Of course I care. If I didn't, I wouldn't have been so devastated to learn he was using me.
In a blatant attempt to change the subject, I point out, "Your entire whistling repertoire is from a different century, or haven't you noticed that?"
"So? I like the songs. And they fit." He starts whistling "My Girl" again, but sings a single line, "I've got sunshine on a cloudy day," before he slips back into whistling.
