Page 101 of Gilded Saint

He’s flying through the rain-soaked street. Cars honk. He swerves, and my body jerks. My hands grip the armrest. Pedestrians stare. Buildings whir by. My body jerks with each hard swerve. I close my eyes. I can’t look.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he mutters. “Dammit.”

He needs to focus on his driving. I’ll ask questions later. A siren’s wail joins the sound of honks.

Getting pulled over by a police officer will be a good thing. No one will hurt us if we’re in a police car, and then we’ll leave the station.

I’m whipped into the car door from a sharp angle he takes. My head hits the back of the seat from the force of his acceleration. I crack one eyelid open and see we’re somehow on a road with few cars in front of us.

Rain lashes down. The storm is intensifying, or perhaps it’s our speed.

“You okay?” he asks.

I swallow and will my heart to slow down a little. Sure, I was raised in a mafia family, but I’ve never been in a car chase. My stomach lurches.

“Are they gone?”

“We lost them. But more will be coming. You okay?” he asks again.

Leo’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched.

I force my eyes open, my heart pounding in my chest. The world outside blurs into a mix of gray buildings and flashing streetlights. My stomach keels with each turn, the lingering adrenaline making me feel simultaneously wired and exhausted.

“You good?” Leo asks, his eyes flicking between me and the rearview mirror. There is genuine concern in his voice, a softness that contrasts sharply with the hardness in his eyes.

I nod, not trusting my voice. The reality of our situation sinks in. We’re running, truly running, and I don’t know where we’re going or when—if ever—we'll be able to stop.

“We need to switch vehicles soon. This one’s too conspicuous.”

I glance back, half-expecting to see a parade of black SUVs in pursuit. The road behind us is clear, but that does little to ease the knot in my stomach. “What are we going to do?”

He takes a sharp turn down a narrow alley. The Range Rover’s sides scrape against the brick walls, leaving a trail of paint behind us. I wince at the sound, but Leo seems unfazed.

“It’s complicated,” he finally says, his voice low and tight. “This isn’t your family. At least, they aren’t the only ones.”

The alley opens into a deserted parking lot. Leo slows the vehicle, his eyes scanning our surroundings. “We need to ditch this car. Can you run?”

A blistering barrage of gunshots ring.

“Fuck!” Leo shouts. “Is your seatbelt buckled?”

It is. I tug on it to show him, eyelids clamped closed as the engine roars.

“Is it?” he shouts.

“Yes!” I cry, squinting one eye as my whole body shifts left as he jerks the vehicle.

“How the fuck did he find us?”

Up ahead is a bridge.

“Fuck!”

“What? Who is it?”

We’re in a rundown area I’ve never seen before. If I were to guess, these are warehouses. Maybe we’re nearing a shipping district.

“Get down.”

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