20. Diego
DIEGO
“Get your hands off her!” The moment that greasy bastard grabs Valentina by the arm, I lunge forward, but the unrelenting press of the shotgun barrel only lets me move half an inch.
Before I can do anything else, the meaty fist of the bald man flies into my face and his knuckles glance off my jaw. The force of the blow almost sends me back into the booth, but he grabs my shirt collar just in time.
“Hey!” the waitress yells from the counter. “I’m calling the cops!”
“No need,” calls back the greasy-haired man. “We’re bounty hunters. Cops can’t do shit.”
“Bounty hunters?” I glimpse the waitress’s face as she holds her phone halfway to her ear, and confusion flashes in her eyes.
I miss the result of her internal debate because suddenly, Valentina and I are being dragged toward the cafe door, and the towering bald man with me is unrelenting in his grip.
“There has to be some sort of mistake,” Valentina gasps. “We haven’t done anything!”
“You might not have,” replies the greasy man as he pulls Valentina along with him. “But there’s a bounty on his head with a bonus if you’re with him.”
“A bonus?” She attempts to jerk her arm out of his grip. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Listen, lady. I don’t have time for questions. Five hundred grand isn’t the sort of money we’re passing up and it’s a capture, not a kill order, but that doesn’t mean I will put up with your fighting me every step of the way. Now, come on!”
The cold night air clogs my lungs as we’re dragged outside and Valentina stumbles next to me.
“Shit,” I gasp. “I should have handed myself in instead of calling Tech.”
My weak humor doesn’t land with the irritated glance she gives me, and she wrenches her arm out of the greasy-haired man’s grip on the third try. “How did you find us?” she demands. “Was it the call?”
“Nah,” the bald man replies, using the barrel of the shotgun to propel me forward toward an unassuming black sedan. “Your ex handed you in.”‘
“My ex?” Fuck. Mindy.
That fucking cunt.
Valentina and I exchange a glance, and anger rises under my ribs when the greasy bastard grabs her arm again.
“Be careful!” I yell. “Can’t you see she’s injured?”
To my surprise, the greasy bounty hunter does end up releasing her, but he pulls a large silver handgun from underneath his jacket and presses it to her chest when she faces him with a glare.
“If the lady would be so kind as to get in the car, that would be amazing,” Greasy says.
“She’s only a bonus,” the bald one reminds him as he thrusts the shotgun against my shoulder once more. “Kill her if she’s too much trouble.”
“If you hurt her, I swear to God!” I’m cut off by a blow to the back of the head that sends me crashing down to my knees. Pain blooms from impact and shoots up my thighs, then a meaty hand seals in the back of my collar and drags me back to my feet.
“Less taking, more walking!” He cuts himself off as a rising hum of engines rapidly grows closer and closer.
Blinding headlights spawn on the dark road making a beeline straight toward us. I count three cars before I’m shoved forward against the car. Valentina yelps as she’s shoved next to me, but the greasy-haired man abandons all chivalry and begins manhandling her into the vehicle.
“Ladies first,” he snaps.
Trapped between the car and a shotgun, there’s nothing I can do to help her. Powerless to watch, my gut twists into knots as we exchange a last glance and she vanishes into the car.
I’m going to kill Mindy the next time I see her.
If we survive this.
The approaching cars screech to various halts around us, blinding us with headlights that are far too bright to be legal. I recognize one car, and my heart begins to race. It’s the black SUV from my apartment and the motel. Suddenly, the bounty hunters feel like the safest choice here.
“Who the fuck are these guys?” Greasy-hair asks.
“After our bounty, no doubt,” snarls the bald one and he shoves me against the car once more. “Get the fuck in!”
Being in there with Valentina is definitely preferred, so I stop resisting and scramble into the car just as the bald man opens fire with his shotgun. The blast is deafening, as if the headlights exploded from the pellets littering the front of one of the vehicles.
“Valentina!”
A deep, vibrating voice yells from outside, and she clutches at me with both hands, eyes wide. These bastards aren’t bounty hunters. They’re the fuckers we’ve been running from these past few days.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, ducking as the next shotgun blast is joined with several deafening shots from the greasy man’s hand cannon. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”
“I’m sorry,” Valentina gasps. “This is all my fault.”
“No, no, it’s not.”
“Go! Go, go, go!” Both bounty hunters leap into the car, and we all lurch back as the bald one slams on the accelerator. We tear out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.
“Did you get him?” the bald one gasps.
“I dunno,” replies the greasy one. “I shot someone, I’m pretty sure.”
“Motherfuckers. I fucking hate tail hunters.”
Keeping Valentina’s hand clutched in mine, we wrestle with the seat belts while the car swerves dangerously all over the road.
“What’s a tail hunter?” Valentina asks, seemingly trying to keep herself calm with questions.
“Bastards, that’s who,” replies the greasy man. “They basically stalk other bounty hunters so they don’t have to do any of the legwork, then they try and snipe the prize. Fuck that. That money’s ours.”
“Anything we can do to help?” she asks, slightly breathless.
I stare at her, stunned. “Help?” I hiss, grunting as a reckless turn on the road throws me back against the door. “Why the hell would we help them?”
“One problem at a time,” she hisses back. “We can’t escape these guys with a tail on us.”
Oh.
I hate how much sense that makes.
“Just sit back, little lady.” The greasy man snorts. “We’ll be rid of these fakes in no time.”
He speaks with such confidence, but the car remains flooded with light from the tailing cars.
No matter how many sharp turns we take or how often we speed up, we can’t shake them.
The greasy one ends up rolling down his window and leaning out to take potshots with a gun that makes my ears pop every time it fires.
Other than shooting out a couple of headlights and saving us from being bathed in painful, ethereal light, he doesn’t stop the pursuers.
My hand tightens in Valentina’s and she leans against me, breathing heavily against my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps. “Everything is getting worse and worse. I’m really sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault, okay?” I cup her cheek and smile softly. “We’re clearly very fucking desirable.”
“They knew my name,” she whispers desperately. “Someone there knew my name.”
“If they really came from Mindy, they know both our names.” It’s weak reasoning since Mindy likely only shopped me in for her cut of the money, but it’s easier to think about that than consider another terrifying possibility.
Those people in those SUVs aren’t the ones who posted the bounty. They would have waited for these guys to drop us off. Which means there are two groups we’re running from. Not one.
I briefly meet Valentina’s gaze. Has she worked that out too or does it remain a mystery for her?
I’m not sure what would be kinder.
“Where are you doing?!” The greasy-haired bounty hunter nearly chokes on his yell. “We should head for the bridge!”
“Are you kidding me? Look at these fuckers. The river is the only way to lose them.”
“And when they send us into the damn river? I can’t fucking swim!”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
“No, take the exit to the bridge.”
“No!”
“Yes! You’re gonna get us killed!”
“Motherfucker, I’m driving and I say the river.
Get off me, man, are you trying to kill us all?
!” The bald bounty hunter yells loudly as the greasy-haired one fights him for the wheel.
Blows are exchanged between them similar to children fighting over a toy, but before a winner can be decided, one of the chasing cars thumps into our back bumper.
We all jolt forward. Engines roar as two more cars move up on either side of us with windows so blacked out that all I can make out is the reflection of our own car.
“They’re trying to box us in!” I yell as Valentina’s nails cut into my palm. “Drive faster!”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Stress turns the bald man’s face and head bright red as he wrenches the wheel to one side, sending us slamming into one of the cars.
They skid off to one side and give us more room, but as we turn, the other car clips the corner of our rear bumper as it falls back and we’re thrown into a spin.
Around and around we go with tires screaming, brakes squealing, and the two bounty hunters screaming at one another about who is the worst driver between them, until we crash into another parked car and bounce.
The breakneck speed we were driving at coupled with the bounce sends the car rolling onto its side.
Valentina screams as she’s thrown against the passenger door and the ground scrapes against her window until it shatters in her face.
“Valentina!”
I can’t reach her. My own seatbelt chokes me as I dangle to the side, arms and legs flailing for a few seconds until another chaotic jolt sends the car onto its roof and we’re dangling upside down like trapped puppets.
Eventually, we come to a stop. The world spins. I can’t breathe from the pressure of the seatbelt keeping me from crashing down onto the roof of the car, and the tension is too strong for the release to free me, either.
Valentina’s in a similar position, her amber hair cascading forward like a velvet curtain, and she throws one arm to the side, trying to reach me. Both the bounty hunters lie crumpled on the roof where they landed after the crash. There were no seat belts to save them.
“Diego!” she croaks out. “Hold on. I think I can…” She yelps as her seatbelt clicks and retracts, sending her crashing down onto the roof with a soft groan.
“Valentina!”
“I’m okay.” She lies there for a second, panting and wincing, but before she attempts to pick herself up, hands reach in through the broken passenger window and grab her legs.
“No!” She immediately starts thrashing. “Let me go! Let me go!”
“Valentina!”
Her scream trails and fades as she’s dragged right out of the vehicle, leaving me gasping for air and in utter silence.
“Valentina!” I yell again.
Silence.
Twisting left and right, I wrestle against my seatbelt and fight to use my weight and momentum to unlock the clasp, but it refuses to budge.
Suddenly, my passenger door rips open and a blinding light from a parked car floods inside.
Something clicks, then my seatbelt vanishes from around my chest, but before I can thump to the ground, arms catch me and I’m dragged out of the car.
Bathed in burning, bright headlights, I can only make out the shadows of people moving around as dizziness pulls through my mind with a nauseating ache.
“Is that him?” comes an unfamiliar voice.
“Yeah. Fucking hell.” It’s the deep voice from before, and two strong hands grab my arm. “You’re a hard man to track.”