Page 34 of Off-Limits Protector Daddy

“That’s not the only thing I make hard,” she says, snickering as she pokes my thigh. “Down boy. I’m just trying to kill time.”

“Kill it some other way,” I say through gritted teeth.

Aria rolls her eyes before turning up the stereo and filling the car with the sound of a pounding bass line. I don’t mind as long as it means that she isn’t going to sit beside me and continue to taunt and tease me.

We drive for a couple hours, Aria singing off-tune to songs she barely knows. By the time I turn onto the road for the safe house, I’m considering driving us off a cliff.

“You are a horrible singer,” I say, moments before I see a huge problem waiting just outside the house. “Are you wearing a tracker?”

“No?” Aria’s eyebrows furrow as she looks at me. I slow the car, coming to a near stop. “I don’t think so?”

I look at her, trying to see if there is anything she wears every day. My gaze lands on her diamond studs and there is a sinking feeling in my gut.

“Your earrings,” I say, throwing the car into reverse. “Where did they come from?”

“Dad got them for my birthday.”

“Take them out and get rid of them,” I say as the Russo soldiers start climbing into their cars. “Throw everything you brought with you out the window. That black bag in the back too.”

Aria presses a button to lower her window. It takes her only a few seconds to toss her earrings, her purse, and the black duffel bag.

Tossing the tracking device doesn’t matter now, though. Her father’s men saw us. They are following us, and as fast as I can drive, I don’t know if I can outrun them.

“Buckle up tight,” I say before throwing the car in reverse and flooring my foot down on the accelerator.

Aria does as I say, for once not arguing with me. I grip the steering wheel tight as the guns appear. Shots fire through the air and I can hear them hitting the car. One of the windows breaks, glass spraying all over the back seat as I turn the car around.

“Where’s a gun?” Aria asks, opening the glovebox and searching through it. “You have to havesomethingin here.”

“And what are you going to do with a gun?”

“Shoot them,” she says. She presses against the back of the glovebox and a hidden compartment falls open.

“This isn’t an action movie, Aria. You can’t hang out the window and shoot them while I drive.”

Aria chuckles and reaches into the secret compartment. She pulls out a handgun and a magazine for it. I keep flooring it hard, urging the car to go faster. When I glance in the mirror, I can see other cars coming down the driveway after us.

“I should have checked you for trackers when I picked you up,” I say, turning out of the driveway and onto the road. “I know better.”

“Stop wallowing and get us the fuck out of here,” she says.

Aria checks the gun and the magazine before loading the gun and flicking off the safety. She rolls down her window and unbuckles her seatbelt. She leans out the window slightly, shooting at the cars that follow us onto the road.

She hits one of the cars and it veers into the ditch along the side of the road.

It isn’t good enough, though. There’s a loud pop following a gun shot and the car dips down, screeching as the rim grinds against the pavement. Another tire is shot out and I know that we’re done for.

“Hold on,” I say, glancing at Aria. “We’re going to stop.”

Aria slides back in the window and sits down, pulling her seatbelt across. As soon as she is secure, I slam on the brakes. Our seatbelts lock hard as the car comes to a stop. I throw it in park before grabbing my gun from its holster.

“Alright,” I say as we both take off our seatbelts. “Kill as many as you can. If we go down, we take out as many people as we can in the process.”

She gives me a blood-chilling smile that reminds me that she has likely killed more people than I have.

Aria leans in between the seats, reaching for the handle of the back passenger door. The men outside are stopping their cars but none of them gets out. Aria flings the back door open before getting out of the car.

I open my door before following her, sliding across the front seats and ducking behind the open door. Her father’s men start pouring from the cars as we use the door as a shield. Aria crouches low, shooting at two of the men advancing on her.

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