Page 79 of SINS & Riley
Dream Team
And I know exactly where I am. And it’s the furthest point from Dominic.
Suddenly, two strong hands clamp down on me and I almost flinch, braced for the worst.
Relief floods in when I look up and see it’s Dominic.
“I heard shots fired,” he growls, hauling me upright. “Can you walk?”
It’s only then the pain in my ankle registers, hot and sharp. But it holds when I put weight on it. Barely.
My chest heaves, lungs torn raw. I can’t form words.
So, I just nod.
He doesn’t buy it. In a blink, he scoops me into his arms. “The car’s not far.”
Branches whip my face as he barrels us through the trees, feet churning over treacherous ground. And then, salvation.
The car.
The engine is already rumbling as we approach. He must’ve tracked me and drove in as close as he could.
For the first time ever, the weight of the tracker at my throat feels like a blessing.
He wrenches the back door open and shoves me inside. “Stay down.”
I flatten, heart hammering, adrenaline crawling under my skin like fire ants.
Dominic vaults into the driver’s seat and slams it into gear. We shoot forward, my body whips against the seat, then sideways into the door as he swerves hard.
“What happened?” he barks.
“Enzo—” The name tears out with what breath I have left.
He spits something in Russian, sharp enough I know it’s a curse. His mouth twists. “Why am I not surprised? Dante’s brother at his gravesite—what a shock.” The sarcasm cuts as much at himself as it does at me.
His knuckles flex on the wheel. “But today? Pulling the trigger? At you?”
My voice scrapes raw. “He wasn’t firing at me.”
His gaze flicks to mine in the rearview mirror.
“Then who?”
I hate keeping things from Dominic, but I can’t tell him the truth. He will go apeshit… and probably kill me himself.
“Someone else,” I blurt out. “They got into a fight. I ran.”
Dominic jerks the wheel, knuckles coiled tight. “Hang on.”
My fingers dig into the leather seat, bracing myself hard before I force my head up.
A blacked-out SUV squats across the road, sealing our exit. Enzo stands dead center, waiting.
And he’s not alone. Two men flank him, rifles raised.
Dominic jerks the wheel and slams the gas. The car screams forward.
