Page 64 of Thunder

"Like hell you will," I retort, letting my anger fuel every punch. It feels good to finally make him pay for what he's done. I pull a heavy fist back, ready to deliver the final blow to his broken face, when suddenly, a hail of gunfire erupts from behind me.

"Shit!" I curse under my breath.

It's the men from the van. They’ve closed in and they’re shooting at me.

"Looks like you forgot about my boys," Antonio smirks through bloody teeth.

"Sorry, asswipe," I snarl at Antonio, "but we'll have to finish this another time."

I punch him once more, this time in the throat, and then shove his limp body aside and scramble to my feet, desperation fueling every movement.

"Damn it!" I mutter as I snatch up my gun. Haphazardly, I fire off a few rounds in their direction, buying myself a precious few seconds. "I'm not dying here today. Not without taking these bastards down with me."

An answering hail of gunfire sends me diving for cover and gives Antonio the opening he needs to flee to safety.

"Good luck with that, you prick," Antonio yells, laughter lacing his voice despite his pain.

"Fuck you, you creep," I spit back, then bolt towards my motorcycle.

My heart races, adrenaline and anger pumping through me, and the urge to pursue Antonio rages inside me. As I swing my leg over the bike, I take one last look at Antonio’s fleeing figure. I could chase him down, could end him, but at what cost?

"Next time, Antonio," I vow under my breath. "Next time."

The engine roars to life beneath me, and I gun the throttle, my bike spitting smoke and burning rubber as I race out of the parking lot. Bullets whiz past my head, so close I can feel their heat. But death isn't catching me today.

With a firm crank of the accelerator, I urge my bike to full speed, weaving between abandoned cars and dodging more gunfire. The wind whips against my face, and for a moment, I feel almost invincible.

Gaining distance from the warehouse, I spot a well-concealed motorcycle in the bushes and Rook, decked out in camouflage gear and carrying a rifle.

He raises his hand, grinning.

"Thunder! I told you not to be a dumbass this time!"

"Go fuck yourself, Rook!" I yell back, slowing my bike as I approach.

“Looks like I was right about it being a trap.”

“Like I said—fuck you. And thank you.”

"Watch your six, Thunder," Rook warns, suddenly serious. "I'm heading to Eliza. You keep Lia safe, alright?"

"Damn right I will."

"Good. Don't be a fucking moron this time," he adds, revving his engine. "I won't be there to save your ass."

"Wasn't planning on it," I reply, smirking. We speed off in different directions, the sound of our engines tearing through the air.

As I race away, my heart pounds like a drum. Whoever's behind this is organized, ruthless, and determined to wipe out their opposition with bloody, overwhelming force. They’ll be going after everyone I care about.

A face flashes in my mind—Lia.

"Stay safe, love," I whisper, urging my bike faster. "I'm coming."

I whip my bike to a frenzied speed and point it towards her hotel like a missile locked on target. Dread and apprehension fill me; my heart hammers against my chest and each breath is a struggle, despite the air whipping past my face.

All I can think about is her: the woman I love, she’s in danger.

I must get to her.

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