Page 16 of Matched into the Mob

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Michael, assuming that is your name.” Dane’s manicurist was sitting on a small stool at his feet, buffing his nails. He kept his head down. Smart guy. No one wanted to get in the way of what Dane had planned for me.

The boss nodded and removed his hand. The manicurist picked up his stuff and scuttled off. Dane patted the seat. “Get in. We’re going for a little ride.”

Not what you wanted to hear from the mob boss you were investigating.

“Nah, I’ll pass, boss. I get car sick riding in the back.” I patted his sleeve, and he reared away as blood dripped in his lap. “Wouldn’t want to barf on that expensive fabric.”

Bodyguard one grabbed me and threw me into the seat facing Dane and sat beside me, while the other guy, Cato, got in the driver’s seat. My chest ached with the fierce pounding of my heart. I jerked forward as the car moved.

“Damn, can we get a decent driver for once,” Dane complained as he pulled out a gun.

I raised my hand. “That would be me, boss.”

“Sorry, boss,” Cato said. “Not used to a car like this.”

The car sped outside. The rain had increased since I’d gone into the building. Rivers of water slid down the slope into the garage. The food truck had gone, and traffic was backed up, lights blazing as drivers attempted to peer through the wall of rain. Cars blocked our way, and Dane snapped at Cato to barge between the vehicles.

A torrent drummed on the roof, but my brain was working overtime, thinking of how to escape. I didn’t like my chances, but I knew every inch of this vehicle. There had to be a way. The odds weren’t great. Three mobsters, all with weapons, against me.

Visibility was hampered by the tall buildings, traffic, low clouds, and rain, but as I put both hands between my knees to stop them shaking, Cato must have flattened the accelerator and the car sped forward, ramming into two cars on the street that were bumper to bumper.

With none of us wearing seatbelts, our bodies were tossed about in the car, and my head hit the roof. I must have blacked out because the next thing I remembered was a face hovering over me and being carried while the rain bucketed onto me.

“We have to get out of here.”

EIGHT

RANGER

“I have to mark you. It’s the only way to protect you and my pack.”

Matt was awake but dazed, a bruise forming on his brow and dried blood stuck to his cheek. He insisted I put him down.

I was wearing a dark hoodie, pulled down low, and I was dressed in nondescript jeans and sneakers. No security cameras would recognize my face, especially not in the downpour.

“Mark me? Your pack?” Even through the teeming rain, I wanted to kiss away my mate’s bewildered expression. He struggled, trying to release himself from my grasp, but I wasn’t letting go because he might topple over. “I was about to be done away with, and thanks, I guess for rescuing me. But I need to run.”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said. I’m here to protect you.”

“Not with you. Away from you and the Obsidian mob because he’ll be baying for my blood.”

Baying was right. Wolves would be howling once they discovered the accident. It was fortunate that the guy behind the wheel couldn’t drive for shit and had run into another vehicle—not mine and nothing to do with me. Just pure luck.

Dane and the other two bozos were alive, I’d picked up their heartbeats. But because they were unconscious, their beasts couldn’t take their fur. If they had, any injuries would have been healed immediately and my mate wouldn’t have made it out of the car.

I thanked the goddess for looking out for my mate.

“Come.”

“No. I’m going in a different direction from you and Dane.” He jerked his hand, and grunted in frustration when I wouldn’t let go.

“Listen, you frail human you, once Dane regains consciousness, he’ll be searching for you.” He’d scent my mate and try to follow him, so I had to disguise his scent as I’d do with my own. But first, I had to get us out of this rain.

“Matt, you have two choices; stay here and let Dane’s men find you.” My mate shivered as water trickled over his cheeks. “Or you can come with me and be safe.”

“But you’re the same as them. You’re mafia.” His voice was barely audible above the rain and the bellowing thunder.

“Not like Dane, I swear.” I wouldn’t lie, but I could promise that The Obsidian Circle Alpha and I were nothing alike.

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