I press the muzzle of my Heckler and Koch P30L into the driver’s temple. “You heard the man. Press the gas and don’t stop until you’re riding their ass.”
A lot of people in my world like the flashy guns with golden inlaid grips and shit. Me? I go after the firepower and the fifteen-round magazines. I need endurance, not glamor.
“Ye…yes…yes, sir.” The cab driver stammers through his reply but finally gets the message. Why it took me twice to tell him I will never understand. When three heavily armed bratva gets in your fucking taxi and gives an order my best advice is to listen.
There are stupid fucking people in this world.
We weave around drivers, catch a corner and come to an abrupt stop about a quarter of a mile down a blocked street. The cab driver is mumbling something but I’m already out of the car and moving through traffic.
Dante throws bills at him for his efforts but since he didn’t deliver what I needed I don’t give a shit if he gets paid or not.
“We can’t lose her.” Dante comes shoulder to shoulder with me sounding like a broken record, but I hear him.
“There.” Bastian narrowly misses the front end of a BMW as we up cement getting to Laila. He raises a leg and slides over the hood and keeps running.
“One block down. They took a left.”
“I see it.”
We pound pavement.
Horns go off and brakes squeal. None of us let up until we reach the street where the asshole took her down. When we come to the head of the street, there’s no cab in sight. Only a dead-end alley that is about half a mile long. It stretches down the back end of a handful of bars and nightclubs.
“Looks like we are going hunting.”
* * *
Laila
My baby. My baby.My baby.
I chant the words over and over in my head to help me keep my focus where it needs to be for me to survive this lunatic.
Pain ricochets from my shoulder to my spine and then back again. I’ve never felt like I am being cut in half with a lightsaber before—obviously— but it’s like a blade of white-hot fire is slicing through me.
And. It. Fucking. Hurts.
I scream and grit my teeth as I am thrown into the back of a taxi. We peel out of the alleyway and tear down the busy street.
“You fucking raging fucking lunatic!” I kick out and my stepfather catches my heel from the front passenger side. He twists my ankle and shoves my foot back.
The fucking pain. Excruciating. Holy fuck!That hurts!
I kick again and this time the edge of my heel catches him in the chin. Not enough to knock him out but enough for me to pull the handle to the door.
I almost escape when the taxi comes to a momentary stop in traffic.
I’m dragged back into the moving car and the door slams. My stepfather leans over me and issues some kind of instructions to the driver. We swerve, speed up, and then grind to a halt.
My stepfather is so busy shoving me into the floorboard he doesn’t realize he’s left the gun he’s tucked into the waist of his pants within my reach.
I reach, aim, and fire. Glass shatters behind him as I throw open the cab door and dash inside a building. It’s grimly dark at first, but it’s the pounding of music and the stench of stale beer that makes me feel like my luck has turned.
And it’s empty. It must just be opening. My fingers tremble around the gun in my hand. I dodge behind the bar just as my stepfather rushes in behind me.
I fire off a round into the corner of the ceiling and hope I didn’t hit anyone. Please. Please. Please.
“Missed little prey but now I know where you are.”