His to Possess (Mafia Kingpins #4)

10. Angelo

10

ANGELO

T he danger and my adrenaline are high as we hurry down a dark, back staircase. I’m not sure how we’re going to waltz past Vixen, but she’s only one person, right? She can’t possibly have her eyes on every entrance, exit and window. I have complete confidence we can get out of here safely. As long as no one else shows up. Then things might get sticky.

“What’s the plan, kitten?” I ask, right on her heels. Damn, she’s a sight to behold. All fiery and determined, her cat claws extended and ready to do battle.

“Is it butterfly or kitten?” she asks, not bothering to look back at me. “You can’t seem to make up your mind.”

“Depends,” I tell her. “Sometimes you seem so light and airy like a butterfly. Other times, you’re a fierce and feisty kitten ready to scratch someone’s eyes out.”

She chokes back a laugh. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Crazy for you,” I say without thinking.

She abruptly stops and I slam into her.

“Sorry.” I press a quick, soft kiss in her fragrant hair. Christ, that lavender scent of hers is going to be my undoing. We’re running for our lives and I’m getting aroused. “It’s true, though.”

I hear her soft release of breath and I squeeze her arm.

“Which way?” I ask, getting her back on track. I didn’t mean to distract her and I know we have to keep moving, despite my dick wishing plans could change. But, that is currently impossible. Right now, we’re standing at the bottom of the staircase on the first floor.

She opens the door a crack and peers out into the lobby. “Let’s go out the back door and—” After a whispered curse, she lets the door close quietly then spins to face me, blue eyes wide. “Back upstairs!”

I don’t ask, just do as she says. We hurry up to the second level and shove through the exit door. The hallway is lined with closed doors that lead to other apartments, but we run past them all. She skids to a halt at the opposite end of the hallway and I raise a brow. Even though I trust her, I’m wondering why we’re standing here at a deadend. There’s one final door and she easily swings it open.

“We’re taking this down,” she says with a nod. “You first.”

“What the hell? Is that a trash chute?” I watch as she opens a small door to reveal a tiny elevator. There’s no way I’m going to fit my big ass body in there.

“It’s a dummy waiter. This is a really old building and they used to use it for?—”

“I can’t fit in there,” I interrupt.

“Yes, you can.” She eyes me then cringes a little. “You’re just going to have to squeeze. Now hurry!”

But, I shake my head. “We can go out the back door like you said.”

“No, we can’t. Two more hunters just came in—Beast and Fury.” She shivers. “We don’t want to mess with them.”

Beast and Fury? Uh, no, they don’t sound quite as easygoing as Vixen. “Yeah, okay,” I immediately concede. Then I drop forward and start to bend my body to fit into the tiny space while Butterfly pushes and shoves, trying to help me fit.

“You’re almost in,” she says and tries to close the door. It won’t shut all the way because my body isn’t that flexible and my damn long legs are in the way. But, that doesn’t stop her from shoving all her weight against the door, forcing it to finally close, nearly pinching me.

As the dummy elevator begins to lower, I feel like a damn human pretzel. It’s an old, rickety contraption and, after the slowest descent known to mankind, it finally halts with a jolt. My head hits the bottom upon impact and I manage to open the door with a slew of curses. This is not my idea of a good time and I hope to God I can pry my body out of here. Otherwise, I’m going to be stuck. But, I need to get the elevator back up to her, so with a few twists and grunts, I drop out and land on the basement floor with a thump. This crazy night is definitely going to leave me with some bruises.

I stand up, dust my shorts off and send the elevator back up to the second floor. While my girl is on her way down—because, yeah, I’m starting to think of her as mine now—I look around for an escape. My gaze lands on a grimy set of windows. Unfortunately, they’re covered by big, iron bars.

The rattle of the small elevator door opening snags my attention and I help Butterfly get out. I swear to God, I’m finding out her real name by morning because I can’t keep calling her insect and animal names. It’s getting ridiculous.

She heads straight for the barred window and I follow her. There’s no way we can get out that way, but she climbs up the side of a bookcase, reaches over and turns something. Squinting, I realize the entire set of bars opens from the inside. Ah, in case of a fire, I realize. So, tenants can’t be stuck inside. Makes sense, I think, then grab her around the waist and haul her up.

She shoves the window open and I lift her higher, enjoying her ass in my face just a little too much. But then she pushes off me and slips through the small window and outside. I grab a chair, climb up and grip onto the edge of the window sill. Jumping up, I pull myself through and crawl out.

We’re in a grimy, litter-screwned alley and I’m just standing up when she grabs my arm and pulls. I look over and see a hulking man come around the corner. He’s carrying a knife in each hand and I’m not feeling good about the unfriendly look on his face. To say he looks menacing is the understatement of the year.

“Give it up, Butterfly,” he booms in a deep voice.

“Now way, Fury! You’re going to have to catch us!”

“Why’re you taunting that beast?” I ask.

“That’s not Beast, it’s Fury. Now run!”

She takes off and I stifle a sigh and hurry after her. This is more running than I’ve done in the past year and I’m over it. But, there’s no way I’m walking with that giant of a man hunting us down. We can’t run forever, though.

“Where are we going?” I ask, keeping pace as we duck around a corner, past a dumpster, then run full speed across a street and down another alley. It seems like wherever we turn, someone is after us. I’ve never been so one edge in my life.

“We need to get out of the city,” she declares. “It’s too dangerous.”

She’s right. Eventually, we’re going to end up trapped. There are just too many people after us and the scary thing is we’ve only run into a few of them. And three is quite enough for me. They’re a disconcerting group and I have no doubt they will do whatever it takes to capture and turn us over for the reward money.

How the hell are we supposed to get out of here though? The moment the question fills my head, it’s like a light turns on and I know exactly what we need to do.

“I can get us out!” I tell her. My side is starting to get a stitch, but I ignore it.

“How?” She looks over at me, aqua eyes wide.

“If we can get to a private airport in Jersey, I have a helicopter there. I can fucking fly us out of here.”

“Oh, my God, I love you!” We reach the back of a brick building and pause, breathing hard, backs against the wall.

“You love me, huh?” I tease.

“If you can get us out of here, yeah. I’ll owe you big-time.”

“I’m going to need that in writing. Or, you can repay me in kisses.”

She smirks. “I’m sure. Okay, so we need a set of wheels to get us over to Jersey.”

“Yeah. Should we call up an Uber?” I ask, reaching for my phone.”

“No, no time. Plus, I don’t trust anyone.”

“So how are we getting there?” I ask, perplexed. “I don’t think we should risk going back for your car.”

“We’re going to borrow a new set of wheels. C’mon.”

I follow her out onto the street and watch as she starts walking along, trying door handles, checking to see if any of the cars parked along the curb are unlocked. Ah, my little butterfly is a car thief, too. I immediately join her, pulling up on the handles, checking for unlocked vehicles.

When a handle pulls up and a door opens, I almost yell out in excitement. Instead, I call out a hissed, “Found one!”

My badass girl hurries over, slides into the driver’s seat and nods to the passenger side. “Get in,” she says.

I jog around the car’s hood and hop inside. Buckling my seatbelt—cause I have a feeling this might be another wild ride—I watch as she goes to work. The car is an older model, a piece of shit, if I’m being honest, so we’re probably doing the owner a favor by taking it. Although, she did say borrow, so I guess the cops will find and return it eventually.

In the meantime, Butterfly hotwires the car so fast my head spins. The engine kicks on and she tosses me a triumphant smirk.

“Where’d you learn that cool trick?” I ask, thoroughly impressed.

“Oh, you know,” she responds vaguely.

“No, actually, I don’t. That’s why I asked.” She needs to start giving me some answers. The mysterious air around her was fun at first, but now I really want to get to know her better. It’s almost become like a gnawing feeling in my gut.

I really fucking like this woman and that’s something that I don’t experience very often. Hell, ever.

“We can trade secrets once we’re out of here. We’re not safe yet,” she reminds me.

The words are barely out of her mouth when a motorcycle roars up the street. I whip my head around and see that it’s headed straight for us. Shit. Is this insane chase ever going to end?

I slap a hand against the dashboard. “Go! Go!”

We aren’t exactly in a fast-moving sports car, but she handles the car and the road like a pro. The motorcyclist immediately follows us, but luckily my girl knows how to shake a tail. After a few sharp turns, circling around some blocks then running a red light, we seem to be in the clear.

“Okay, where exactly am I going?” she asks, turning the car toward New Jersey.

I rattle off the name of the small private airport where I keep my helicopter. We’re almost there when two cars pull up out of nowhere. I tense up when they start following us closely and then that damn motorcyclist reappears.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumble and Butterfly is already looking at them in the rear view mirror.

“Hang on! We gotta lose these assholes.”

That’s not a very specific plan, but she’s right. It’s late, so luckily there isn’t a lot of other traffic. Unfortunately, that only allows the bad guys to move up on either side of us. The dude on the motorcycle guns it and I catch sight of his hand lifting a gun through the side mirror reflection.

“They’ve got guns!” I yell, ducking down.

She doesn’t say a word, just starts cranking the old window down then reaches for her gun and lifts it as the motorcyclist pulls up beside her. The car is going as fast as it can, so we’re not able to outrun these guys. Guess she’s going to have to shoot them.

I watch, heart in my throat while she’s the epitome of calm and collected. Damn, I admire her. At the same time, I don’t want either of us to get caught in the middle of a shoot-out. I guess it doesn’t matter what I want though because bullets start flying and she yells at me to get down.

Without a gun, there’s not much I can do to help, so I drop down and send up a silent prayer that we make it to the airport before this hunk of junk car is riddled with bullets.

“Actually, scratch that. Angelo, take the wheel!”

I pop up and grab the wheel without a second thought and my girl wedges herself halfway out the window and starts firing her gun.

“Holy fucking shit.” I’m trying to steer, but the car swerves and she falls back inside, bumping me. “Sorry!”

“Keep it straight!”

“I know!” Easier said than done when I’m still half-sitting in the passenger seat. Scooting over, I shove my foot down on the accelerator, taking over for her and, despite the awkward position I’m in, I know that I need to keep the car steady so she can get rid of the persistent assholes chasing after us. It’s a good thing the streets are quiet because the air around us is peppered in bullets. My girl manages to shoot out the windshield and front tire of one car and it ends up crashing into the other, taking them both out.

“Yeah!” I cheer, eyes on the road, guiding us forward. The only pursuer left is the motorcyclist and Butterfly pauses to reload her gun. Then she’s turning, hanging out the window so far that it’s giving me heart palpitations, and firing off more shots. I’m ready to grab her if she slips, but she’s doing a helluva good job and it isn’t long before the last guy goes down, his bike swerving then skidding sideways and wiping out on the road behind us.

She slides back down into the driver’s seat and I move back over to the passenger side, letting her drive again. We’re just pulling into the airport when I notice her wince.

“What’s wrong?” I ask and she grimaces.

“Nothing. Just a scratch.”

Somehow, I don’t quite believe her. I frown, determined to look her over as soon as we’re out of the car. Pointing to a hanger, she drives over and turns the car off. I’m immediately up and out, hurrying around to help her out. After opening the door, she waves me off.

“I said I’m?—”

“You’re not fine,” I interrupt, noticing her torn leather jacket and the blood seeping through. “You’re bleeding.”

“Just a graze.”

She allows me to help her out and I’m standing firm. “We’re not going anywhere until you let me fix that up quick.”

She huffs out a sigh then nods.

“C’mon.” I unlock the hanger door and we go inside. There’s a First Aid kit in a cabinet that I often use because I get a lot of nicks and cuts while I’m working on the helo. Flying is something I’ve always enjoyed, but I also like the mechanics of it. I think it’s important to understand how your aircraft works, especially if something goes wrong.

Once I get Little Miss Independent seated in a chair, we carefully peel her jacket off and I take a look at the damage. She’s right, it’s only a graze, but that’s enough. I don’t like seeing her bleed, and I quickly clean her arm and wrap it up. For good measure, I press a kiss right above the bandage.

“What was that for?” she asks, a little breathlessly.

“To make it all better.” I give her a smile. “That’s what my mom used to do whenever one of us got hurt.”

For a long moment, we stare at each other. I can’t wait to get us safely tucked away in my cabin. From that heated look on her pretty face, I have a feeling things are about to get steamy and I can’t wait.