Page 58 of Straight, No Chaser
Good. I gun it, pushing eighty as I ram his bumper. Loving his head whipping forward from the force. Fucking hating her flopping against the seat belt. Hold on, baby girl. I'm coming for you.
Hunter jerks again, but he has no place to go with Bennie pushing against the truck bed. So fucking grateful he avoided Molly's door. We shove him into the empty parking lot of a recycling center. Luckily closed for the day before we go to war. Hunter breaks hard to the left, skidding around to face us. A fucked up version of the game of chicken. Except he's going to be riddled by a bullet rather than a car.
The driver side door kicks open, and he comes out shooting, as erratic as you would expect from a guy with only six fingers. A motherfucking sawed off shotgun. Powerful but ineffective. Especially with four guys trained on him. But he doesn’t give a damn. He only wants me. Wants me to suffer as much as he did. Which he ensures so effectively, dragging her out by the hair. Burning fury deep in my bones with her fragile body limp, flopping against him like a rag doll.
My palm flies up, ordering my men to stand down with a single hand raise. They obey my every command, making any sacrifice necessary to support the business. But, this time it’s personal. With a motherfucking bastard desperate for revenge. Which is exactly what I’m going to give him. My life to save hers. Because I know she’ll take care of Eli even when I’m gone. Which is all I ever wanted before I fucked up both of their lives. “Trade Hunter. Me for her.”
I chin bob to Bennie and his team fixed on the asshole. “They won’t do a damn thing to stop you.”
His vengeful laugh, sharp and reckless, crosses the asphalt. “I know they won’t. Toss the gun.”
Hunter nods, a crazed smirk glowing on his face from my Glock sliding toward him. I follow the same path and take a step forward, while he tosses her to the ground, ready to reach for me. Motherfucker. My body pulsing to be so close to saving her from this bastard.
A primal yell rips from my mouth when he twists, sweeping the barrel from me to her when her hand claws at the concrete trying to lift herself up.
“I told you to stay down you stupid bitch.”
Hell the fuck no. She will not die. I race forward and ram into him, but not before he pumps a damn slug into my leg. Son of a bitch that hurts.
But I’m high on rage and love, and the pain can’t even fucking touch me. All I see is the hatred on his demonic face. The contempt for her goodness that I will not allow him to destroy.
Shock widens his eyes when I pull my weapon from my back waist band and press the tip to his forehead. “See you in hell motherfucker.”
His body, slick with sweat and agony, spasms underneath me when the bullet pierces his brain, and I shove off. Using the last bit of my strength, I crawl to her. Leaving a smeared trail of blood across the sweltering pavement. I somehow make it up onto my ass, and clutch her against me. Ignoring all the commotion of my guys rushing to eliminate the proof of our crimes. Blocking out the rest of the world bustling around me, except her sweet face. Soft with relief for both of us before her eyes sink shut and she’s out again. I cup her cheeks and kiss her anyway. “I love you angel.”
18
Chapter Eighteen
Aslight moanwhispers between her pink lips and her hand slides up my chest, clenching my shirt. I stroke her hair. Trying to comfort her. Both of us. As well as quash the panic squeezing my chest that I hope doesn't explode inside of her when she wakes up enough to realize it's me holding her.
"Luciano?"
My taut muscles relax from her relieved whisper. My lips automatically press against the top of her head. Needing to soothe her. Both of us. "Yeah, angel, it's me. You're safe now."
She snuggles in tighter. Regardless of how much I've disappointed her, she still trusts my gentle touch with her. Absolutely no doubt that I will give my last breath to keep her safe.
I nod to Doc Wallace stitching my leg. My body humming from her closeness rather than the pain. He peers closer, examining his work so far.
“The bullet went clean through. Lucky not to hit the femoral artery.”
"You about done?"
The corner of his lip curls up. Irritated with me for rushing him. "Yeah, you're welcome. I always love getting yanked out of bed at three am to patch up your sorry ass."
This is why I love this guy. Busts my balls even with me a ghost’s breath from death if that motherfucking bullet hit only a few inches to the right. Yet, he still examines my woman first. Without me even having to tell him.
He stands and stretches, fingertips kneading into his back as he groans. "Remember, if she's dizzy or confused when she wakes up, call me. Might be a concussion."
I clench up without even realizing it until fire sears through my muscles from the image bursting into my mind again of that fucking bastard hurting her. So fucking glad that motherfucker is dead. "Yeah, I will."
He gestures toward her, cuddled against my good side. “You need help?”
“Nah, I got her.”
And, I always fucking will. I’m never fucking letting her go again. A huge yawn overtakes him while he tosses his supplies into his bag. Already thinking about crawling back into his bed. Just like I am.
Once the door closes, I shove off the chair. Ignoring the inferno engulfing my thigh. Because my pussy ass heart is too happy to feel anything but grateful my angel is safe and back where she belongs. Still limp and groggy, she doesn’t utter a word when I lay her on the cool sheets, tucking the thick comforter around her.
