Page 36 of Devotion

“Fuck!” Mat yelps, falling back hard as the car jerks forward suddenly, roaring down the street.

A little laugh slips through my lips at the thrill of speed and the expert, insane half-donut that Ciro pulls at the end of the cul-de-sac. Smooth as silk, he peels out into the night, swerving through the sparse traffic like he owns these fucking streets.

“I’m impressed.”

“Easily, it seems.” He sniffs. Cocky bastard.

“Do I have to sit back here and listen to you two flirt?”

“That or you can buckle up. We’ve got company.” Ciro’s tone drops.

Through my side mirror I see the two cars, zagging along behind us, keeping pace. Bold move on our turf.

“I guess I will get a chance to be not so easily impressed, ah?”

“Hang on!” Ciro skids a hard right, looking past me to catch a glimpse of the two cars pursuing us.

“What the hell are they thinking?” Matvey muses. “Following us in our backyard is…just fucking stupid.”

“Maybe they want to know where home base is?”

All three of us flinch as a gunshot sounds, cracking into the back of Mat’s car.

“Or they want to stop us before we can tell someone about them!” I yell.

“Aw come on! I just got last damage fixed!”

“Better the car than your head!”

“Eh, I dunno, he could use an extra hole or two,” Ciro snipes, that telltale laughter shaking his voice. He’s getting worked up. And the grin on his face is widening as the stakes rise.

“Take left, we lead them away from compound, to industrial area. We lose them, or we kill them.” And hopefully keep one alive for questioning, I leave unsaid.

I bark off more directions for him, knowing these streets like my own skin. This is my home. And they have no clue who they are toying with.

“I should have driven, I know area better.”

“But I’m a better driver.”

“Says you.”

“We’ll see what you have to say when this is done. If we live.”

My chest heaves as he increases speed, locking eyes with me as he does. It’s the speed. Yes, only the speed that is making my heart pound in my chest. Not the smoldering stare that he never breaks as he swerves around a stopped truck, through an intersection, a red light, veering around two near collisions at breathtaking velocity.

The tight streets of the old factory district offer much cover. Parked cars, trucks, containers. But as hard as it makes it for them to get a shot, it makes it just as difficult for me to return fire out my window.

“We need an opening!”

“I need a goddamn barf bag…” Matvey mutters.

“Motion sickness?” Ciro chirps.

“No. You two make me sick.”

Ciro’s mischievous smile is contagious. And more than just the banter between us, I am enjoying this danger with him way too much. The worst part is, he fucking knows it.

Two more wild, hairpin turns and I’m flushed, thoroughly riled up and excited. And absolutely not because he slipped a hand over onto my thigh. Protective arrogant bullshit.

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