Page 40 of Consumed By the Mafia

“Shut the fucking hell up, Gerardo, or I’ll climb over this seat and shove you out the door,” Ryoma snapped.

Gerardo raised his voice. “Cristiano brought himself home a stray that didn’t even have a goddamn nametag. So, bein’ the good cousin he is, the boss gave the stray a name. That’s the mutt you callRyoma.”

Abigail’s jaw dropped and she snapped her gaze back in time to see Ryoma release his seatbelt and make for the open space between the front seats. She threw herself forward, the seatbelt biting into her in protest, and grabbed hold of him as best she could. “Don’t! You can rough him up when we get wherever he’s obviously decided to take us, don’t throw him out of a moving vehicle!”

Ryoma went still. He didn’t feel like he’d chosen to agree, only that he was considering her perspective.

“Shame, though,” Gerardo said, as if he had no care in the world. “Guy with your skill, gettin’ sucked in by a fed bitch. You’re gonna make a laughing stock outta the whole fucking family, yakuza.”

Ryoma lowered to a knee behind the center console. It was an awkward position, probably, but he wedged himself in between the seats easily. “Where have you decided to take us, Gerardo?”

“We’re going for a nice scenic drive,” Gerardo replied. “I know a place, just outside town. Great view of the Passaic. And you, fuck up, get a chance to start makin’ this right. Because no way in hell are we actually workin’ with a fed.”

The breath caught in Abigail’s chest. Gerardo was taking them somewhere isolated, with the intent to kill her. Maybe both of them. She was a fool for not having seen that coming.

thirteen

Opposite Worlds

Newark was fully behindthem when Gerardo pulled onto a soft shoulder overlooking the Passaic River. He killed the engine but didn’t bother removing the keys from the ignition.

“Have you thought this part through, Ger?” Ryoma asked from the seat he’d since reclaimed.

Gerardo let his seatbelt slide away. “I have, asshole.”

Abigail spotted a tell-tale reflection just above his lap and her eyes blew wide. “Gun!” They were all armed, of course, but hers was tucked unhelpfully at her back. As she suspected Ryoma’s was. Gerardo’s, however, was pointed almost perfectly in her direction.

Ryoma cursed and lurched forward as the first gunshot exploded in the suddenly too-small cab of the SUV.

Abigail threw herself as far to the side as she could, twisting her body and narrowly missing the bullet. She wrenched at the door handle, but it wouldn’t give.Seriously? Child locks?

Two more gunshots went off in quick succession, deafening her to the lower pitched sounds of the males who’d semi-literally fallen into a struggle.

Unable to get her door open, and assuming the glass to be bullet resistant, Abigail scooted forward and extracted her weapon. Her ears were still ringing, but she couldn’t have missed the visual of the fight that had spilled onto the center console in a fumbling mess of flailing limbs unless she were fully blind.

Ryoma appeared to have hauled Gerardo out of the driver’s seat and was alternating between wailing on and strangling the man. For his part, Gerardo was trying to beat Ryoma off. Every time Gerardo went to bring the gun between them, Ryoma managed to shove Gerardo’s entire arm up and to the side.

As she watched, another bullet shot wide, into the windshield.

Theyneededto get out of the SUV.

Abigail tore her gaze away from the men, knowing her involvement would only work against her endgame. If they wanted out, she was going to have to crawl behind Ryoma and across the seats, and do her best to stretch over to the driver’sside control panel. It was risky. But so was holding still and hoping the next stray bullet didn’t lodge in her chest.

Abigail tucked her gun away in order to free up her hands and moved back onto the seats. She wasn’t sure if the cursing and grunting got louder or if that was just her mind becoming hyper-focused on the unignorable sounds of the fight.

“G-get off!” Gerardo said with a grunt. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you both!”

“Funny,” Ryoma said, a mild strain in his voice. “I kinda had the impression that was Plan A.”

Abigail shimmied herself behind her lover’s awkwardly positioned legs, watching all the while as Gerardo seemed to renew his effort to take control of his gun. He squeezed the trigger again as she slipped her first foot back onto the floor and her heart leapt into her throat. But no pain followed, and Ryoma remained anchored in position. She pushed onward, flattening herself against the frame as best she could.

Ryoma grunted, his foot shifting on the floor mat, and Gerardo’s weaponless arm arched above the seatback before curving back down.

He couldn’t possibly reach her from where Ryoma had him pinned, so Abigail pressed herself into the back of the driver’s seat and stretched her arm out. She did her best not to listen to Gerardo’s cursing as her fingers fumbled over the buttons on the door panel, craned her neck in order to see, and finally depressed the one she needed. The cabin of the SUV echoed with the rear lock release.

“Out, Abby!” Ryoma said before she could find breath to tell him with words.

Shewanted to hesitate, to argue, but there was no rationale behind the instinct. So she bit it back and hurriedly yanked on the door still partially holding her upright. Another gunshot went off behind her and she half threw herself outside, rolling across the dirt to put distance between herself and the threat. As she got her knees under her, she reached back and tugged out her gun again. “Ryoma, get out here, I’ll cover you!”

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