Chapter Six
J eter whipped the compact SUV around the corner, hurrying away from the bar. His worry for Kendrick’s safety threatened his control, but his fear for him and Tori set his teeth on edge. The real threat they’d barely escaped from came from a one of three directions. If he’d been alone, he would’ve stuck around and searched for the fucker. However, he had Tori to worry about.
“You saved my life, farfallina,” he said, reaching across the small distance, grabbing her cold hand in his.
“What?” she asked.
Shock had her in its grip. He needed to get her somewhere safe, where he could calm her down and assess their situation. If they were back in Santa Maria, he wouldn’t be worrying about shit. Most people didn’t come near the property the Royal brothers had purchased and made a home for themselves and their family along with the Royal MC.
“If you hadn’t pushed me, that bullet would’ve hit me instead of the ground.” Jeter let out a gust of air. Thinking about the real possibility of dying made him furious. Whoever shot at him would’ve gotten away with murder because Jeter had no backup and no way to track who the shooter was.
“How do you know they were aiming for you and not me?”
Her question made him pause. “Why would anyone want to shoot you?”
Tori blinked shiny, dark eyes at him. Through the unlit interior of the SUV, he didn’t miss the small teardrop fall from her right eye before she wiped it away with the back of her hand. “I don’t know. Why would anyone want to shoot you? There are always random shootings, right?”
His fingers clenched on the leather steering wheel as she uttered the lie. Sure, her words could’ve been the truth, but Jeter knew they weren’t. There was a certain amount of undeniable chemistry between them that made him want to trust whatever came out of her mouth. Of course, he knew she could be a liar of the highest order.
“Whichever one of us was the intended target doesn’t matter. Thank fuck, neither one of us is dead. That means one or the both of us could have someone searching for us to finish the job. If it were you, then your home isn’t safe, and since I’m not from here, or rather I don’t live here, then I guess it’s safest to go where they wouldn’t be looking for us. My brother—he should’ve been there,” he muttered.
Jeter turned onto the highway, pushing the gas pedal down to merge with traffic. He wanted to put as much space between them and the shooter or shooters. Fuck. Why hadn’t his brother shown up and why hadn’t Kendrick called him?
Silence filled the air between them. He looked over, noticing she’d crossed her arms over her chest as she stared out the window. The lack of acknowledgement bothered him on a visceral level. For years, he’d been numb to feeling anything for others. Keeping everyone at a distance except his MC family. Somehow, after he’d gotten discharged, they’d wormed their way into his cold existence. How the fuck did this tiny scrap of a woman worm her way inside? It had to be her vulnerability. Jeter was a sucker for damsels in distress. Feeling better with an explanation, he pulled his cell phone out with one hand.
“Can you try getting my brother on the line for me? He’s the last one I called.” Passing Tori the cell phone he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and hoped she wasn’t stupid enough to snoop through it. The one other time he’d trusted a woman, he’d nearly lost his life.
Flashes of light burst behind his eyes. Memories breaking through a barrier he’d formed in his mind. His body tensed. Darkness threatened to pull him under as tiny white dots of light sparked in front of him.
“Shit,” he growled at the sound of Tori’s scream echoing around him.
He pulled the steering wheel to the right and fishtailed back-and-forth along the slick freeway until he steadied the Bronco.
“What the hell happened back there?” she asked him. Her face had turned nearly as white as the snow that fell.
Sweat dripped down his temple. He licked his lips, reaching his hand up to his chest, wondering if he could still feel the electric shock of the defibrillator burning his chest all these years later. For years, he’d gotten used to being in the dark as part of the military special ops team, but then he’d found a sliver of light with the Royal MC. It only took a couple of days in his brother’s world for him to get sucked back down, where remembering his own name could become a trial.
“Nothing. It was nothing,” he said a second time, wishing the words made them true. There had been a time he’d welcomed the darkness. Longed for it and even hoped to never leave it. There had been no regrets when you had nothing he’d sworn. However, once he’d clawed his way out of the pits of hell, Jeter knew he’d been wrong.
“Take this exit!” she shouted.
At any other time, he’d have argued with her or anyone who told him what to do. But then again, his head was reeling. He blinked again. Wondering why the fuck sweat was dripping down his temple so damn much? It wasn’t like it was hot in the vehicle. Or at least not enough to make him perspire so damn much. “Is it hot in here?”
Tori looked from the road to him, then to the dash. “Do you need me to turn your side of the temperature down? There’s dual control.” Her hand was already on the dash, turning his temperature from seventy-two to sixty-nine.
His lips twitched.
TORI DIDN’T WANT TO antagonize Jeter while he drove her Bronco at breakneck speed, but damn, he scared her. Not only with his driving but with his sudden outburst. She’d seen men lose their shit many times. But what he’d done, she was sure, wasn’t normal.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His tone came out a low, guttural growl that had her heart hammering.
She opened her mouth to tell him it was fine, but his hand reached for hers. The one that held his cell phone. She’d forgotten he’d asked her to call his brother. Hell, she’d lost track of everything except getting the big, scary mobster to pull off the freeway. The last thing she needed was for them to be flying down the road at over seventy miles an hour and for him to have another freakout. No, thank you.
“Here, I’ll call your brother.” She wiggled her hand out from under his, even though his touch was warm and gentle, and she missed it the moment it was gone.
Of course, she had questions, lots of them. Not trusting herself, Tori leaned closer to the door with the phone close to her ear. The ringing on the other end continued until it went to voicemail. She hung up, then tried again. This time, she put the phone on speaker. “Do you want to leave a message for him?”
The ringing filled the quiet while Jeter navigated the SUV. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel without answering. She was getting ready to hang up the moment the voicemail prompt answered when a male voice barked, “Who is this?”
“Kendrick, it’s me, Jeter. What the fuck happened?” Jeter asked.
“Fuck. Are you okay?” Tori listened to the other man yelling orders in the background.
Jeter held his hand out for the phone, so Tori laid it on his palm, hoping he would pull over before going into a full on conversation.
“Listen, shit went south the moment we got into the car. Leon immediately got an alert. You know he’s a tech wiz. His phone lit up that there was a bomb detected.” Kendrick let out a breath that sounded sad to her ears.
“Did we lose anyone?”
The leather creaked under Jeter’s grip. She wondered if her insurance would replace a steering wheel if he destroyed hers, then felt guilty for thinking about such stupid things when they might’ve lost people close to them.
Kendrick let out a dry chuckle. “See, I knew you still loved us. Leon got a little busted up, but he’ll live. My Bentley didn’t make it, though,” he growled.
Her eyebrows shot up. She mouthed the words Bentley and mimed the action of driving to Jeter. He nodded.
Shit. No wonder the man sounded pissed.
“I’ll just have to get a newer model. The leather in the old girl was getting a little faded anyhow,” Kendrick muttered.
Jeter looked at her, rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Only you would think a Bentley Continental GTZ of any year needs replaced. Seriously, though. Someone was out in that alley with a gun and would’ve killed me and Tori.”
She listened while Jeter explained what had occurred without interrupting. Hearing them mention the Masseria name brought a cold sweat to her entire body. One of her biggest fears of being dragged back into the fold had been too close for her peace of mind. Being a witness to her fair share of evil deeds by that family ensured she knew her place, and it was far, far away from New York and anything to do with Family . Her mother, on the other hand, loved hard and blindly, swearing Gino Masseria to be the loving husband he portrayed. Tori knew better. She’d tried to get her mother to see the truth before it became too late. Only Tori had been too late to save her mom. Hell, for years she’d pretended to be ignorant in order to survive, knowing her mother’s killer lived under the same roof as her. Her stepfather was a ruthless man who’d taken out anyone who stood in his way, like her mother, like her. Gino Masseria never allowed anyone to disrespect him or his honor. Her running away when he’d had a plan for her to marry meant she’d signed a death sentence for herself four years ago. She couldn’t tell Jeter that, though. Heck, she didn’t know if the one who shot at them had aimed for her or him.
She’d often thought of different scenarios where Gino or her stepbrother confronted her. None of them had involved dark alleys and bullets whizzing by.
“Hey, you feeling alright? You look like you’re going to pass out or throw up. Either one isn’t a good option, farfallina.” Jeter’s deep rumble soothed her frazzled nerves.
“Ah, already using nicknames. Our Nonna would say this is—”
Tori jerked her head toward Jeter as he switched the phone to his ear. The two men spoke in low tones, but she could only hear Jeter clearly. She swallowed several times.
The man drove like a maniac through traffic with the phone stuck to his ear with one hand. The other, he held the steering wheel like he was a professional race car driver, twisting it back-and-forth between cars. Tori let out a little snort-laugh when she thought about the smaller version of the Bronco she’d almost bought.
His head twisted in her direction for a moment, then went back toward the road. “I’m going to find us a safe place to lie low for the night. Tomorrow, I’ll call you to see if you’ve heard anything about the shooter. Yeah, get someone to see if there’s any footage from back there.”
She watched him wipe at his brow again. This time when he gripped the wheel, she noticed a red smear on his hand.
“You’re bleeding,” she shouted.
Jeter looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, but she pointed at his hand. “Look.”
“Hey, let me call you back.”
He set the cell phone on his thigh, grabbed the wheel with his right hand, then held out his left hand. “What the fuck?”
Tori wanted to lean over his body and inspect him, but they were still driving through traffic.
“Maybe the pavement that flew up after the...the bullet hit it came back and smashed into you.” Or there might’ve been another shot fired that neither of them had heard. Oh, god. The thought of him sitting there driving with a bullet wound, possibly bleeding out, made her lightheaded.
“Nah, I think the bullet grazed me before it hit the ground. I need to make another call. We need to go where nobody would think to look for us, farfallina. Do you trust me?” he asked.
They pulled up to a stoplight. With the glare from the lights outside illuminating the inside of her vehicle, she took a leap of faith and nodded. He reached for her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Good girl.”