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I risked a quick glance and noted the camouflaged man was now only ten feet away. And with one final pop, he nailed Gabriel in the forehead.
A shocked gasp escaped me as he went limp, but I couldn’t let myself slow down. I began crawling through the open window on the opposite side of the man, groaning as shards of glass dug into my elbows.
But I wasn’t fast enough. Two hands grabbed my upper arms and wrenched me from the confines of the twisted metal, throwing me onto my back.
I aimed my gun at his crotch and pulled the trigger.
But to my horror, the gun merely clicked.
My eyes widened as his tightened, and then the camo man kicked the gun out of my hands and slapped me across the face before grabbing my arms and yanking me to my feet.
The man’s bald head gleamed in the morning light, his muscles so massive, they had to have been formed with a generous dose of steroids. A pulsating network of veins wrapped around his tattooed neck, slithering like serpents wanting to escape his body.
“Trying to shoot me was an unwise move, you stupid bitch.” Another slap. “I’m going to take my time with you for that.”
My stomach sank.
He began pulling me toward his vehicle, but if he thought he’d take me without a fight, he was wrong. I leaned down and bit his hand, but that only made him squeeze my arms so harshly, that I worried the bones were about to snap, making my eyes burn with tears. I glanced around at the handful of pedestrians fleeing from the massacre, but none of them had weapons or were willing to go up against three armed men who had left at least three dead bodies in their wake.
I began kicking him, flailing, thrashing.
“Fine, you stupid bitch. We’ll do it the hard way.”
He shoved me to the ground and then raised his gun, slamming the butt of it against my skull.
Making everything go black.
CHAPTER49
Hunter
“What the fuck do you mean, she’s missing?” I stood in my ADA office, clenching the phone so hard, I swear the screen was about to crack.
“I got a call from Carl that they were being chased by a black Audi,” Red explained.
Mac “Red” O’Sullivan had been with me for years. Always impeccably dressed in a suit, complete with a discreet earpiece and concealed weapon, he had a muscular build and fiery red hair.
“Follow-up text said they were heading to Chicago Police Headquarters on Michigan Avenue. They planned to lure the Audi there, but they never made it. And now, all three men aren’t answering their phones.”
I grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and slammed the redhead of bad news against the wall, my voice simmering with fury as I asked, “Where the fuck is she?”
Red’s face began to turn crimson from the pressure I was putting on his chest, even though he could take me down with ease.
He was highly skilled in various forms of martial arts and hand-to-hand combat with a black belt in Krav Maga and a proficient knowledge of Brazilian jiujitsu.
His background in the military made him an effective strategist when it came to assessing potential threats and planning contingencies.
But he’d screwed up this time. Massively.
The plan hadn’t worked—three armed bodyguards. Driven from our garage to the front door of work, Luna flanked by two of the men while a third provided extra cover. One would remain by the building’s entrance to assess every single person coming into that building, one would be stationed outside her office door, and one positioned inside.
He swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke.
“I pinged Luna’s phone,” he gasped. “Hers is on the move.”
I loosened my grip around his shirt slightly.
“Luna still has her phone?”
