Page 139 of Bonds of Obsession

Fuck that. I lean out just far enough to squeeze off two shots at the closest pair of legs. Someone curses and stumbles back. I didn’t kill them, but at least they know I’m not going down without a fight.

“You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Ambrose calls out. He sounds amused, the sadistic prick. “Although I have to admit, watching you kill Emmett was entertaining. I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.”

I check my ammo. Not enough. Not nearly fucking enough for the number of men he brought.

A bullet strikes the car door inches from my head, making me flinch. They’re getting closer, tightening the circle. Soon they’ll have angles on both sides of the car, and then I’m screwed.

I peek around the bumper, trying to spot a way out. There’s some cover about twenty feet away—a stack of old shipping containers or something. If I can make it there…

More gunfire forces me to pull back. A ricochet sparks off the pavement near my feet. They’re trying to keep me pinned while they move into position.

I grip my gun tighter, my heart pounding. I need to move. Now. Before they cut off all my escape routes.

The roar of motorcycle engines cuts through the gunfire, and my heart leaps. I know that sound—I’d recognize it anywhere. My men.

“There she is!” Atlas’s voice carries over the chaos, and I’ve never been so fucking glad to hear anything in my life.

Tires screech as three bikes tear around the corner. Ambrose’s men pivot, opening fire on the new threat. The sound of engines mingles with gunshots as my men weave between bullets, like the horsemen of the fucking apocalypse.

Nico’s bike skids to a stop closest to me, and he reaches out a hand. “Come on, wife!”

The raw urgency in his voice gives me the shot of adrenaline I need. I launch myself from behind the car, sprinting toward him as bullets kick up concrete around my feet. One of Ambrose’s men steps into my path, but Killian’s bike roars past, close enough to clip the bastard and send him sprawling.

“Move your ass!” Atlas shouts, laying down covering fire that forces the other mercenaries to dive for cover.

My legs burn as I push harder, closing the distance to Nico. His hand catches mine, strong and sure, and he hauls me onto the back of his bike. The familiar leather of his cut is like armor against my chest as I wrap my arms around him.

“Hold on tight,” he growls, and I can hear the mix of fury and relief in his voice. The fury is for Ambrose, but the relief—that’s all for me.

I press myself against his back, my heart thundering in time with the bike’s engine. We’re not safe yet, but with my men around me, I feel the first spark of hope since this whole shit show started.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Nico guns the engine and we peel out, the bike’s tires throwing gravel as we accelerate. Atlas and Killian flank us, their bikes moving in perfect sync like they’ve done this a thousand times before.

I grip Nico tighter as he takes a sharp turn, the bike leaning so far I can almost touch the ground. Behind us, car engines roar to life as Ambrose and his men start to give chase.

“They’re following!” I shout over the wind, pressing my mouth close to Nico’s ear. His response is to twist the throttle harder, the engine screaming as we pick up speed.

The cool night air whips at my face, carrying the scent of the river. We’re riding parallel to it now, using the maze of warehouses and docks to our advantage. The bigger vehicles will have a harder time following us through here.

A bullet whizzes past, close enough that I feel the displacement of air. Killian drops back, putting his bike between us and the gunfire. My heart clenches. I can’t lose any of them. Not after everything we’ve been through.

“Stay low!” Atlas calls out from my left. He’s scanning the road ahead, probably looking for escape routes. That’s what he does—always watching, always protecting.

I press myself tighter against Nico’s back, feeling the tension in his muscles. He’s furious. I can tell by the way he’s holding himself, by the aggressive way he takes each turn. Furious atAmbrose, at the situation, probably at me for putting myself in danger.

But there’s no time to think about that now. More gunshots ring out behind us, and I know we’re not out of this yet. Not by a long shot.

All we can do is ride, and pray we’re fast enough to outrun the storm of bullets following us.

The bike vibrates between my thighs as Nico pushes it to its limits, weaving through the industrial maze along the river. Behind us, engines roar and tires squeal as Ambrose’s men try to keep up in their cars. The sound reverberates off brick walls and empty buildings, making it impossible to tell how close they are.

I twist around, keeping one arm locked around Nico’s waist as I raise my gun. The lead car’s headlights are shining on us, making us perfect fucking targets. I squeeze off two shots, and the windshield spiderwebs but doesn’t shatter. Bulletproof glass. Of course these professional mercenary assholes would have bulletproof fucking glass.

“Hang on!” Nico shouts, and the bike lurches as we take a hard right turn. My stomach drops as we thread between two buildings, the gap barely wide enough for the bike. Atlas follows, but Killian has to find another route—the space is too tight for him.

More gunfire erupts behind us. I hear the distinctive pop of automatic weapons now. These bastards aren’t playing around anymore.

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