Page 4 of Little Dove

We just need to survive this first.

I manage to get us outside of town before they finally get lucky and shoot out one of my tires. I grit my teeth as I try to keep the vehicle under control. We’re both going to die if we crash. We need to get out of this death trap quickly. Good thing Papa prepared us for situations like this.

“I’m going to get us to a spot where we can get out, but when we do, you need to be ready to run,” I yell back at Amara. “Do you understand?” I turn my head just long enough to see her staring at me, grim-faced, but with a look of determination in her eyes. She gives me a quick nod, and that’s all I need.

I get us a few more precious feet before I hit the brakes. I’m moving even as the vehicle is grinding to a stop. Hell, I’m not sure how I don’t flip the damn thing. The SUV certainly rolls with the momentum. “Now!” I scream, as I bust open the door, firing at the SUV bearing down on us, a man leaning out of the passenger side.

All my training kicks in, and within seconds, I kill the passenger, his body hanging limp over the window. The driver swerves, no doubt in shock, but that gives me all the opening I need. I fire another shot straight at him, and blood splatters the windshield at my direct hit. I dive out of the way as the SUV comes barreling toward me. I see Amara running ahead of me, and I lengthen my strides until I’m directly behind her, lifting her up into my arms and sprinting away. The thunderous crash behind us is quickly followed by the unmistakable sound of two vehicles blowing up. Flames lick the smoky sky.

Shit. That’s definitely going to draw attention.

I don’t stop moving until I’m sure we’re far enough away from the crash site. I slow my steps, my breathing labored as I look around. I have no idea where the hell we are, and as far as I can see, there’s nothing but desert for miles. We have nothing to combat the sun, and no food or water.

No wonder all those American movies show people dying in places like these.

“Put me down,” Amara suddenly orders, squirming in my grip. I set her carefully on her feet, but I rest my hands on her shoulders to keep her in place, checking her for injuries. I see nothing but some cuts and bruises. Thank fuck. “What the fuckwas that?” she yells at me, backing away. “What the ever loving fuck was all of that? Who are you? Why were they shooting at you? Why were they shooting at me?”

“I’ll explain it all as soon as I can, but we need to find shelter,” I tell her briskly. “There are probably more of them coming, and we’re too exposed here. We must hurry.” There has to be a place we can hide out nearby.

Amara stares up at me, clearly unsure if she should believe me, but finally she nods. “There’s an abandoned town about a quarter mile that way,” she finally says, pointing to the west. “There’s some old buildings we can hide out in there.” Then she turns and starts walking, muttering to herself. I can’t make it out, though I’m sure my name is in there somewhere. I follow, careful to stay close. I have to trust that she knows where we’re going and we’re not going to end up lost, but she knows the area better than I do. The notes I have on her told me that she knows this part of the county better than most. She’s been seen walking here almost every day for the past few years. I plan on asking her about that, but it’s probably not the best time.

This is not how I planned for today to go. Sure, I expected her to put up a fight, and I had a backup plan for kicking and screaming, but all of that was contingent on me getting here faster than Marco’s men. Hell, according to Papa, they were a solid day behind me due to flying into the wrong airport way up in the northern part of the state.

Either my math skills are faltering, or the data Papa gave me was wrong. Neither one matters now, but I make a mental note to talk to him about it.

Next time we might not get so lucky.

Sirens scream in the distance, and I glance back. We’re far enough from the road that I can’t even see the wreckage anymore, but the last thing I need is the cops coming after us, orusing their dogs to find us. I can only hope that they’ll assume everyone is dead.

Hell, it might be safer in the long run. If news gets back to New York that Amara and I are both dead, it might keep Leonardo, Marco, and Giovanni from pursuing us further. Though I doubt we’ll be that lucky. Those fuckers are nothing short of persistent, especially where any of the new girls are concerned.

I look down at Amara, who is walking swiftly ahead of me. She moves with purpose, a quiet strength that calls to something deep inside me. I’ve been watching her all day, and I’ve wanted her more with each passing hour. First it was simply her movements around the shop, and the pride she takes in her work. It might not be the most glamorous shop or job in the world, but she’s fucking good at what she does, and she keeps the place meticulously clean.

The hidden cameras and mics I placed in the shop overnight kept me glued to the computer in the SUV. The same one that is now probably nothing more than scorched metal and ash. I’ll need to let Papa know so our men can get in there and wipe the thing. We don’t need any traces left behind.

Still, for those six hours I sat watching the screens today, I got a clear picture of just what kind of woman I’m dealing with. Smart, resourceful, and with a stubbornness that rivals my own. Why else would she put herself through the endless barrage of insults that were shot at her? Every single person that walked into her shop today insulted her in some way, and she never once got upset. She took it calmly, did her job, and let them go. Even when no one was around, she simply went about her day, seemingly none the worse for wear.

Meanwhile, I sat in the SUV, my temper boiling hotter and hotter with each one. Especially from that last bitch who spouted all that nonsense about her breaking up a marriage and sleepingwith both the waste of space husband and his barely pubescent son. Fuck, I looked up that kid and there is no way in hell the son of a bitch knows what to do with his own dick, let alone a full-grown woman.

No, there is definitely no truth to any of that stupid gossip. But I’m getting the sense that Amara is the target of a lot of that bullshit - something I’ll be making sure never happens again. Hell, I want to burn that entire town to the fucking ground, but even I know that’s a bit extreme.

Still, Amara is making me feel and want to do crazy things. I’m starting to understand Nico and Alessio’s obsessions with their women. I want to grab her and take her away somewhere, never allowing her to leave me. I don’t do the kidnapping shit that Nico and Alessio have done, but its appeal can’t be denied. Especially not when I’m so close to her.

The similarities between her and her cousins are there, but there are also some differences. I put her at no more than five-five, and much like Gia, her figure is almost waif thin, with just a few hints of curves in the right places. Her hair is thick, and the same dark brown, almost black, as her cousins. Today she has it pulled back into a low ponytail, the length trailing down to the top of her ass. Even now, my hands itch to reach out and haul her back into me so I can wrap it around my fist.

I strongly suspect that will only get me stabbed. She’s still got those damn scissors in her pocket and I don’t need any new holes in my body. Tiny as she is, something tells me she can do some damage.

“We’re almost there,” she suddenly announces.

I tear my eyes from her to look up ahead, and sure enough, I see the outline of something rising in the distance. Thank fuck. It’s nearly the end of the day and the heat, though less than earlier, is still enough to have me sweating in my suit. “Is it a bigtown?” I ask curiously. I need to get the lay of the land quickly, so we can hide until I can call Alessio to get us out of here.

“It’s only one street full of buildings now,” she answers, glancing over her shoulder and up at me. I can’t quite read the look in her eyes from this angle, but I see the way they take me in. I bite back a smile. I’ll put money on her trying to figure out if she can take me if things go bad. “The only thing it’s been used for lately are some movie shoots and a couple of festivals, though that’s been a year or so. Most times the only people out here now are kids looking to make trouble.”

“How often have you been here?”

“I’ve walked by it a few times, and went in for the festival once, but that’s it. Not my thing to hang out with the locals much.” There’s a slight edge to her voice. Not bitterness, but something else.

“Why do you stay?” I ask. It’s the burning question on my mind. Why does she subject herself to their abuse and slander?

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