Page 16 of Consumed By the Mafia

Why did he always fail to protect the people he wanted to?

Blood splattered across his mind’s eye.

His father’s grief-stricken, outraged voice roared up from the depths of its cage in his memory.“It should be you on this floor!”

Ryoma sucked in a sharp breath, his body aching as his vision started to clear. “Kuso.”

Something popped nearby, immediately followed by a familiar pinging sound. Blurry figures of movement caught Ryoma’s attention a heartbeat before he heard Abby cough. Heblinked harder, willing his body to wake the fuck up. He could hurt later.

Abby groaned, the sound ending on a sharp gasp—the kind he didn’t enjoy. “Ryoma, Ryoma, wake up! They’re shooting at the car!”

He ground his teeth and finally got his arms to move enough to dig a knife from between his seat and the console. The blade ripped through his seatbelt with ease, thankfully, and then he twisted to slice her free of hers. She gaped at him. “I need you to trust me right now, baby girl,” he said as the seatbelt came loose. He tossed it off of her and found her wide blue gaze. “I’ll get us out of this, but it’s gonna be ugly. Ask me whatever the hell you want when it’s over. If you wanna yell or hit me for dragging you into this, I’ll take it. Later.”

The windshield snapped, cracking as their assailants finally thought to focus their gunfire on the compromised glass.

“This is insane,” Abby said, her gaze darting out before back to his. “How is this your fault?”

“Later,” Ryoma said, diving into the console for his backup phone. He pulled the burner free and tossed it to her. “Soon as we’re out, take cover and call Cris. Just tell him what you can and stay the fuck down.” He put all his weight into his door and the windshield shattered.Fuck!

There were two men outside, each armed. Neither seemed to think they needed to reload, as they promptly adjusted their aim.

Ryoma had already grabbed the pistol from under his seat, so he swung it up to take out the man aiming at Abby first. He at least had signed up for this life. But he was actually startledwhen his wasn’t the only gun to erupt from inside the car a heartbeat later, and just like that, both their attackers were down.

“Oh, fuck,” Abby said.

Ryoma snapped his gaze to her, seeing the hole in the headrest over her shoulder where one bullet had lodged in the split-second chaos. She looked disheveled, and may have had some small cuts from the various flying glass, but he saw no concerning blood stains. What he saw instead was both her hands wrapped firmly around the butt of her own gun, still held half-raised in her lap and pointed out, in the direction of the other man. The man who’d been aiming for him.

Ryoma lowered his gun and reached over, encouraging her to do the same without trying to take it from her. “Abby. Breathe, baby girl.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek when she looked at him. “You might’ve just saved my life. I think I’m in love.”

She scoffed, her shoulders relaxing and her lips twitching. “I just killed a man. Please don’t say stupid things right now.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “What the hell is going on? This feels … this wasn’t an accident, was it?”

He’d never had such a strong urge to comfort someone, and he’d certainly never not had anything he coulddowith a compulsion so powerful. But even he recognized the timing was wrong for any sort of romantic moment. So Ryoma scooped the phone she’d dropped off her lap and said, “No, baby girl, it definitely wasn’t. I’m thinking Silva tracked down your information either from the bouncer at the bar or that pastry shop. Either way, he knows where you live, and they’ve assumedyou’re in with me, which means you’re in with us. Plus you actually put hands on a dangerous man. In legit self-defense, but they don’t see it that way. They’re coming after you now, for all of those reasons.”

He saw her brow pinch again as she tried to keep up with his words. “None of that makes sense.”

“It’s a bunch of bullshit, for sure,” Ryoma said. He pocketed the phone and the gun. “We need to get out of here, fast. This car’s not goin’ anywhere anymore.” He resumed his earlier effort to shove his door open, and on the third attempt it flew wide. The frame had obviously jammed badly enough to nearly lock him inside. Not exactly a surprise.

His body protested the first real movement when he hauled himself up and out, but it wasn’t the worst pain Ryoma had dealt with, so he pushed through. He rounded the front, gun in hand again, just in case either of their attackers were faking. They definitely were not. Abby had landed a beautiful headshot. His own target had taken one to the throat. It was a bit of a shame they wouldn’t be talking, but he felt no guilt. Not about that.

Abby’s door opened easier, thankfully, and she was able to stand on her own feet after he helped her out. The pain was visible on her face, but she was standing. The only blood he saw was in the form of small scrapes, nothing that would even scar. It could have been so much worse. Itshouldhave.

Ryoma took her hand and guided her toward the side of the road, abandoning the car for expediency’s sake. “C’mon, before the next ambush hits.”

“You think there’ll be more?”

“I do.” And he didn’t think they’d survive it as they were.

Abby looked over her shoulder as they started walking. “I-I should…” Her hand held tighter to his. “Maybe we should split up.”

Something stabbed into his chest. “Abby, let the adrenaline fade before you go makin’ that kind of decision,” he said carefully. He tucked his gun into his waistband, knowing he needed to be calling for backup despite that he’d rather be talking her through the things in her head.

She whipped her gaze up to him, blinking rapidly, then winced. “No! Not—I didn’t meanus. I meant we should go in different directions. Like … tactically.”

His lips twitched and the sharpness in his chest eased. “Well, then I forgive you for nearly breaking my heart so suddenly.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m not leaving you, baby girl. No matter how good a shot you are.”

She huffed out a breath and leaned into him as they neared the alley he was aiming them for. It was just a small pathway of sorts behind and between another set of buildings, but it was out of sight and out of the way. “Who do we call—where do we go—when we can’t trust the cops?” she asked quietly. “Do we go to the feds?”

“Hell no. Even if we could trust ‘em, there’s only so much they could do.” Ryoma swept his gaze carefully over the scattered boxes lining one wall. He saw no movement, and they definitely needed to get out of sight of the road before that scene became swamped with all the people they could least trust. Because now that she’d made him think about it, he’dratherbe dealing with feds than the seemingly merged mess of assholes bearing down on them.

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