Page 11 of Fighting for Mallory

Mallory turned in her seat to address the other women. “I’ll help you. I promise.”

“What’d you do, Lady?”

The crimes the others committed were minor compared to the charges against her. “They think I killed my husband.”

“Holy shit!”

“You for real?”

“Was it self-defense? Did he beat you?”

“No, he never laid a hand on me like that. Someone drugged me. I don’t know what happened.”

“They ain’t gonna believe you, honey.” The woman who spoke was the one who’d been caught shoplifting. “I shoved medicine for my sick baby in my pocket, and look where I am. They think you bumped off your husband, you ain’t never seein’ the light of day.”

Mallory heard a grain of truth in the woman’s words, and a shiver ran up her spine. “I’ve got friends…”

BOOM!

CHAPTER FOUR

Flames spewed from the transport van. The force of the blast knocked the steering wheel out of Luca’s hands, and the Charger veered off the road, spinning out of control. Luca turned into the spin, regained command of his car, and slammed on the brakes.

Terror gripped him. His heart seized in his chest. Sweat ran down his face. “Mallory!”

He unfastened his seatbelt and leaped from the car. As Luca sprinted toward the burning transport van, the screams torn from the throats of the trapped women pierced the air. Above those tortured sounds, Luca heard a vehicle approaching from the west across the brown landscape and turned to see an olive-colored military Humvee hurtling toward the fiery transport van. Before it even came to a stop, two masked men, armed with semiautomatic rifles, jumped to the ground and opened fire.

Luca returned fire with his Glock 22, a poor defense against the attackers’ firepower. Two bullets struck their target center mass and took him out. Luca advanced and shot the second masked man in the head. The driver of the Humvee sprayed bullets from the open window. Luca dove behind his Charger for protection. A fourth masked man charged Luca, letting loose a barrage of bullets that riddled his car. He had to put this guy and the driver out of commission before Mallory and the other women burned to death in that inferno.

Emerging from his cover, Luca unloaded the rest of the magazine into the attacker shooting at him. Bullets whizzed by him, grazing his ear and left shoulder. White-hot pain stabbed him, and he winced. When the masked man lay dead, Luca shoved another magazine into his gun and moved cautiously toward the Humvee. The driver had disappeared.

“Shit!” Luca spun around and headed toward the transport van at a brisk run. Black smoke billowed.

He didn’t get far. Behind him, a telltale crack stopped him in his tracks. Luca braced himself for the kill shot. Only one thought entered his mind.

I love you, Mallory. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.

A gun fired. Luca closed his eyes, recited the Lord’s Prayer, and crossed himself.

“Luca!” Mallory barreled into him. Tears streamed down her face, commingling with blood pouring from an open head wound and deep gashes. She’d suffered burns on her hands, and the orange jumpsuit was ripped in the knees and in the arms. She held a Glock she must have taken from a guard.

“Mallory!” Luca’s mouth found hers in a bruising, passionate kiss. “You’re alive! What about the other women and the guards? We have to rescue them!”

“The guards are dead. I pulled two women out of the wreckage with minor injuries, but the others didn’t survive.” She gazed at the carnage. “Who are these men?”

“I don’t know.”

Luca approached the nearest corpse. He bent over him and pulled off his mask. The slain attacker possessed short dark hair, an angular face, and thin lips. Luca searched through the man’s pockets but didn’t find any identification. Something caught Luca’s attention through a rip in the dark gloves covering his hands. He yanked off the pair and stared at twin fanged copperhead tattoos.

“Recognize these?”

Mallory shook her head. “Should I?”

He cocked his head as the low thrum of an engine distracted him. “Mallory, we have to get out of here! Now!” Luca grabbed one of her hands, and they ran toward the Charger.

“What about the women?”

“We’ll make an anonymous call to 911.”

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