Page 132 of Bad Little Bride

Why the fuck would I?

But then the brakes squeal, his eyes widen, and he throws his arm out to keep me from slamming my face in the glass across from me. The bottle breaks around our feet and he curses, seeming to be frantically attempting to slip out from the back seat before the car has come to a full stop. He doesn’t get the chance. A split second later the back door is torn open and heavy arms wrap around my waist, yanking me from the vehicle just as I see him torn from his own seat.

I spin my knife, stabbing it straight into the hand around me, hitting bone and forcing it farther.

A deep growl sounds at my back, and I freeze, head snapping over my shoulder as my heels hit the ground.

But Enzo isn’t looking at me, his glare is pointed across the hood of the car. I follow his gaze to find Mino and three others there, the guard who was inside with me locked between them, blue eyes on mine.

Enzo’s chest rumbles against my back, his hands tightening around my waist. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” My husband’s words are a thing of nightmares, like the song you hear in a movie right before that burned guy shows up and murders you in your sleep.

The guard, he winks, and my eyes narrow further, frown only deepening when no one appears.

“Okay then,” he hisses, and he must give Mino a look, as in the next moment, his second aims a gun at the side of the guard’s head.

“Touch him and your sister is dead.”

We yank left at the feminine voice, and my jaw drops open at the sight of the seamstress from the boutique—a boutique owned and operated by Delta’s extended family, intended to be a safe space for the females of our world.

“You must be the wife,” Enzo deadpans.

“Victoria Brayshaw.” The blonde smiles, lifting her left hand and wiggling her fingers.

Okay,fakeseamstress. Wonder how she pulled that off.

When I look over Victoria’s shoulder, I spot Maddoc coming, the rest of their crew appearing one by one, all from different angles, minus the pregnant one. They’re essentially surrounding us, but not one has a weapon pulled.

I look back to the guard who was in the car with me just as they yank his hood and bandana from his head.

“You,” I mutter. I knew his eyes were familiar.

“Mrs. Fikile.” Captain smirks. “Nice to see you again.”

“I will gut you in the center of this street without a second thought,” Enzo seethes, and I press into him farther when he begins to shake.

“Don’t worry.” Royce appears, stepping right in front of the car, eyes wild, tongue slicing across his lower lip like some kind of wild animal. “We won’t be here much longer.”

Enzo stiffens for a split second, and in the next, I’m bent at the waist, spun, and shoved back into the car, the doors slammed and the tires squealing as we peel out, going backward at a rapid speed.

I barely have time to register Mino is also in the car with me when Nicholas slams on the brakes, whipping the car around, and we’re flying down the road.

“What the fuck?!” I scream, spinning and glaring over at Mino, who is frantically pulling his phone from his pocket. “You better be calling backup for him, Mino, or I swear to fucking God?—”

I cut off when Enzo’s voice fills the car and slide across the seat, huddling in closer to see the screen.

Mino yanks it away at first, pressing the mute button, but I am so done fucking around. I fist my pretty pink dagger, the two-inch one attached to my inner wrist, and slide it free, jamming it straight into his thigh.

“Ah, fuck!” Mino howls, head yanking my way in surprise. “Was that necessary?”

“Give me the fucking phone.”

Mino hesitates, eyes moving between mine.

“Now!” I scream.

With a sigh, he lowers his chin, passing it over just as a scared and shaking Katana appears beside Enzo.

I quickly press the unmute button.

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