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ChapterThirty-Two
Dominik
Thunder rolling in the distance backdropped the sound of my gas pedal throttling my engine.
I careened around the corner, skidding my tires as I took a sharp left into the neighborhood that housed where I was going. I kept my eyes forward. I white-knuckled the steering wheel as I soared toward my final destination. Her father had answers I needed, but more than that, Eden and I had to somehow do damage control to our own images in the media.
Because I didn’t want to be associated with her any more than she wanted to be associated with me.
“Come on, can’t you go any faster?” I grumbled.
I picked up my foot from the gas pedal and slammed it down again, soaring at ninety miles an hour through the neighborhood. Kids screamed as they lunged out of the way and the thunder grew vicious as I charged up the hill. But, as I crested that hill and listened as my GPS told me that my destination was up there on the left, the crisp sound of thunder just… stopped being thunder.
Fuck.
As my car careened down the hill, I took stock of the scene in front of me. Right there, in the driveway of Eden’s parents’ house, were a bunch of men scrambling around into the backyard with guns. The thunder ceased to exist for the smallest of moments, but as the men took aim once more that same bombastic sound kicked up.
Holy shit, the sound that had been rumbling in the distance hadn’t been thunder.
It had been gunfire.
Eden.
My tires screamed into the next right and I found myself wrapping around a cul-de-sac. I peered through the houses in front of me, studying the blacked-out SUVs that piled themselves into the driveway. Stuffed full, like a fucking can of sardines. I slammed my hand against the dashboard of my car, depressing the red button that immediately dialed out to an emergency line.
And as the operator picked up, I didn’t even give him a chance to speak.
“9-1-1, what’s your--”
“My name is Dominik Drake. I’m calling from my car. You can GPS my dashboard and find my location.”
I heard him typing in the background. “Got your location, sir. Do you need assistance?”
“I’m currently parked in a cul-de-sac across the street from 817 Chatfield. There are gunmen in SUVs that are tearing into a house.”
The man paused. “I’m sorry, come again?”
I threw my car into reverse. “There are gunmen peppering 817 Chatfield with fucking bullets! And if you don’t get a team of men down here right now, I’m going to kill someone myself.”
With a slam of the heel of my hand back into the dashboard, the call hung up. Bullets popped off, rattling my ribcage and pooling worry into my gut. There was no way in hell they were still alive. No way in fucking hell. I mean, just sitting there, I counted at least seven different men that had wrapped around the back of the house. There were four SUVs, and if there were asses in every single one of those seats, that meant there were twenty-eight different human beings at their house.
At least.
If the men saw me, they didn’t let onto the fact that they knew I was there, and I wanted to use that to my advantage. The only way I’d get answers is if Eden and her family got out alive. The only way I’d figure out how in the world my company and my reputation had somehow come into their crosshairs was if I could get in and get them out.
And with the absence of sirens in the background, I knew we were utterly alone.
“Suit yourselves then,” I growled.
I revved my engine, kicking up burnt rubber as I careened around the corner. I pointed my car right at those black-clad motherfuckers and gunned it, no pun intended, as much as I could. I put the pedal to the metal. I slammed the gas down and didn’t stop until I hopped the curb and soared in between two of the SUVs.
And after running through a group of six different men, sirens finally sounded in the distance.
“Retreat! Retreat!” someone exclaimed.
I threw my car into reverse and backed over someone as I tore back out onto the road. I whipped my wheel to the left and depressed both the brakes and the gas in order to kick up more god-forsaken smoke. The smell alone watered my eyes. It grew hard to breathe as burnt rubber filtered through my air conditioning. Men started choking and gagging all around me, trying to feel their way through the smoke as they clamored into their SUV’s.
And still, the sirens crept closer.
