Page 33 of Stolen By the Bratva King

We jump into the car as bullets slam into the windshield. The engine cranks. I throw the clutch in reverse, the tires spinning and squealing.

Men scatter to get out of the way behind me. I spin the wheel, and we peel out of the parking lot in a cloud of burning rubber smoke.

Another spray of bullets hail down on the top of the car. Hazel is screaming, and my white-knuckle grip tears us through the streets as I dig my foot harder into the gas pedal.

13

Hazel

“Can you please slow down?” I brace the dash with one hand and grip the ceiling handle with the other, bracing myself in my seat.

David’s eyes cut briefly to me before fixing back on the road. “I’m trying to get us out of there.”

“Yeah, well I’d like to do it in one piece,” I shout.

“In case you didn’t notice, we were being shot at,” David doesn’t raise his voice like me. He’s acting like this is a normal occurrence for him. Maybe it is.

“Really? I hadn’t realized,” I yell, sarcasm dripping from my voice. David cuts a sharp corner and my body slams into the door.

“Jesus!” I yell. “You’re going to kill us!”

“We were going to die back there if I didn’t haul ass to get us out,” David hisses through gritted teeth. He glances over his shoulder. “At least they aren’t following us.”

“Well, the police you’re always trying to avoid certainly will be if you don’t slow down.”

David’s entire face is a sculpted scowl. “I know what I’m doing.”

He burns through a yellow light just as it switches to red. I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth and glance over my shoulder but there’s nothing of significance through the back window.

He’s right, it doesn’t look like our assailants are hot on our tracks, but still. David’s driving skills in a crisis leave little to be desired.

Once he turns down another side street, he finally slows down.

I sink into the seat, my tense muscles uncoiling. “ThankGod.”

David looks at me, barking out a bitter laugh. “You know, a thank you to me wouldn’t hurt either.”

I gawk at him, unblinking. “Are you joking?’

The gray in his eye’s fractures into coal. “We’re alive, aren’t we?”

I clench my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking. “Barely.”

David licks his lips, his hands tracking tunnels through his hair. His eyes flick over to me for a moment before settling back on the road. He switches on the blinker before he makes a right turn.

“Oh,nowyou adhere to traffic laws.” I cut him a glare.

“It was a life-or-death situation,” David says. “What are you not understanding?”

“I’m not understanding why you would put me in danger like that.” My voice pitches and cracks, betraying my fear.

“You agreed to come,” David defends.

“Only because you made it seem like I’d be safe. You told me you would protect me.” I know I’m spiraling, but my anger is gaining momentum, and I can’t stop myself.

“I know you aren’t used to getting screamed at by a hysterical woman,” I say, “but I think the situation warrants it.” Part of me can’t blame him for narrowing his eyes at me. But the other part of me is sizzling with adrenaline, unable to make sense of any rational thoughts.

“Ididprotect you,” he clarifies, offended.

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