Page 52 of Tainted Obsession 1
Even as part of my brain reasons through our dire circumstances—planning our way out of this nightmare scenario—my thoughts are consumed with fear for Evelyn: my fragile little butterfly.
She isn’t screaming anymore. I can’t hear her.
I round the ruined SUV and the smashed-up white van that collided with us to set this ambush. Another white van is parked behind it, perpendicular to the flow of traffic to blockade their assault. I catch a flash of her platinum hair just as the side door begins to slide closed.
I throw myself into the van, ignoring the jarring pain as the door slams into my side.
They will not take Evelyn away from me. They’ll die for trying.
My knife is in my hand, slashing at my enemies. One of them starts to pull a gun on me, but the van is too small, and I’m too close. My blade embeds itself in his skull, cutting into his brain. His eye is plucked from its socket as I wrench the weapon free and turn to the other bastard who dares to touch her. His throat opens with one smooth swipe of my knife.
A sharp curse from the driver’s seat calls my attention to the last man. That’s his final word before I reach around the seat and slam my blade into his heart, twisting to shred the vital organ. He slumps onto the steering wheel, and another horn blares, creating a cacophony of violent music.
I quickly heave the dead men out of the van, tossing their lifeless bodies far away from her.
I turn my attention to Evelyn, my heart in my throat. She’s sprawled out on the metal floor of the van, her shining hair creating a halo around her lovely face. Her delicate features are slack, and she’s far too still.
I rasp her name and gather her up in my arms, testing the pulse at her throat.
Her heartbeat is steady and strong. At my touch, her long lashes flutter, and her eyes open slowly. They’re glassy with pain, but she focuses on me.
“Massimo,” she whispers, her slender fingers twining in my shirt to clutch at me.
Alive.Evelyn is alive, warm and vital in my arms.
But not safe. Not yet.
“You’re okay,” I promise, forcing the words through my constricted throat. “I’ve got you.”
I don’t want to release her, but I arrange her shaking body on one of the bench seats in the back of the van and buckle her in. She’ll be more secure here, away from the front windows, even if I’d prefer to keep her in my line of sight.
As it is, I’m the only one who can drive us away from this mess.
Tires squeal as I slam my foot down on the accelerator. I tear through the city streets, mounting the sidewalk to get around the worst of the traffic. I shoot a desperate glance at Evelyn in the rearview mirror.
Her eyes are closed, her cheeks far too pale.
“Keep your eyes open,” I bark, terror still riding me hard and roughening my tone.
I don’t want her passing out on me again.
Her eyes snap open, wide on mine in the mirror. Her fear tears at my heart, the shredding pain far more intense than the lingering throb in my head.
“Good girl,” I growl, struggling to gentle my voice. “Eyes on me.”
It seems to take an eternity to reach the safe haven of Duarte’s home, but in reality, I manage the journey in minutes. No one pursues us; I killed all of the bastards who’d ambushed our SUV. There hadn’t been many of them in the van.
That was their fucking mistake to think they could take me on with only three men.
I swerve when I reach the high rise, making sure that the side door is aligned with the front entrance—Evelyn will be shielded by the van when I get her out of the vehicle.
Four armed men burst out of the bulletproof glass doors, their guns drawn. I hold up my hands in a show of surrender, waiting three seconds for them to recognize me. Their weapons lower when they register that I’m a friend, not a threat.
As soon as my life is no longer in immediate danger, I rush to Evelyn.
“Cover us,” I bark at the men as I round the van to wrench open the sliding door.
Evelyn fumbles at her seatbelt, eager to get into the safety of my waiting arms. Instinctively, she seeks my protection.
