CHAPTER 2
I slide into the Mercedes and adjust my sunglasses, the tight burgundy red dress clinging to my skin. It’s only ten a.m. and it’s near eighty. I already know we are preparing for a brutal summer of heat, and this is just the start.
My uncle is waiting inside, his eyes shielded by sunglasses and he’s dressed in a pair of black suit pants and a white button down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Somewhat too casual for a business meeting.
“Elena,” He greets.
“You are not dressed,” I sneer.
“The Rossi’s do not care.”
“Well I do,” I turn to him, “You work for me, let’s not forget that.”
“My apologies.” Any form of amicable expression drops from his face. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time.”
The driver pulls onto the road and starts toward the Bighorn Mountains, where Sierra Valley sits.
A beautiful small town I’ve only visited a few times in my life.
Nestled within the shadows of the mountains, it’s surrounded by forests and rivers and lakes, the echoes of history lingering in the trees that stand like guards around the town.
Once a place that dominated the market with their farm produce, but my father saw to end that, providing the power to a single corporation that would happen to buy up the small town’s family-run ranches and turn them into money making machines.
The last I checked, there were a few ranches left fighting, refusing to sell their souls to the devil himself.
I busy myself on my cell during the drive until the car comes to a stop. Only when I look out the window, there're no buildings, no other cars, no civilization at all.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
“Engine cut off, Miss De Luca,” The driver calls back, “Give me just a minute to check.”
Unease works through me and I subtly glance at my uncle, but he doesn’t appear to be concerned. He continues typing away, not sparing me a glance until five minutes pass on the dot.
“I’ll go check what’s going on,” He says, pocketing his cell.
I don’t like this at all. I run my hand down my leg, feeling the gun beneath my dress, tucked into the holster at my thigh, but it brings me little comfort. Beyond the windscreen, I see my uncle chatting casually with the driver, neither of them even looking at the engine.
My gut churns with anxiety and dread. Shoving the door open, I round the car to where they stand.
“Get back in the car, Elena,” My uncle chides sternly.
“You don’t seem to be all that concerned about the car,” I point out, “Considering you haven’t even popped the hood.”
“We’re no mechanics, Miss De Luca,” The driver assures me, flicking his eyes over my shoulder before returning them. “We have breakdown on its way.”
“Fuck this,” I grumble, stepping away to lean on the car and pull out my cell, dialing Rio.
There’s nothing around for miles except far off buildings I assume are the ranches in this area and woods.
The mountains stretch toward the sky in front of me, with its steep craggy sides and jagged ridges, the highest point shrouded in a cover of white cloud.
But they offer no shade to the high noon sun.
Despite it being only early summer, the heat is brutal here.
Rio answers his cell after a couple of rings.
“Elena,” His deep voice lacks its usual warmth.
“I need you to come pick me up.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, “I’ll ping you my location.”
There’s a pause from the other side.
“Hello?” I ask, pulling the cell away to check it’s still connected.
“It didn’t need to be this way,” Rio says.
“What?” I roll my eyes. “Not sure I could have predicted this, Rio.”
“That’s not what I meant, Elena.”
“What are you talking about?” I glance at my uncle, but he’s already looking at me. Intuition prickles at the back of my neck.
“You just wouldn’t give me what I wanted,” Rio continues on the phone.
“Can we talk about this when you get here?” I swallow thickly. “I think I need backup.”
“I’m already here, Elena,” Rio says, “Look up.”
My head snaps up in time to see him level his gun in my direction. He doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
“No!” I scream, managing to jump to the ground before the bullet hits.
It shatters the glass above my head, but he doesn’t stop.
The shots keep coming. Pain slices through my thigh as a bullet lands, ripping through my skin and muscle.
I cry out as I try to drag myself toward the front of the car.
The bullets stop just as feet step in front of me.
I tilt my face toward the sky, to where my uncle glares down at me.
“A woman cannot lead the De Luca mafia, Elena,” He sighs sadly, “Such a shame it had to come to this.”
“You filth,” I spit onto his shoe, “You fucking traitor!”
Despite the pain, I get onto my hands and knees, blood running in rivers down my leg, dripping and congealing on the sandy dirt road.
A foot makes contact with my abdomen and kicks me over onto my back, stealing the air from my lungs. The sun blinds me for a second until my uncle shields it from my eyes. “It doesn’t have to end like this. Stop fighting.”
“You can have the throne over my dead fucking body,” I hiss, but I stay down. I know he’ll only kick me again, beat me bloody until he’s done having his fun. The sick bastard.
“That’s the idea, Elena,” He cocks his head, “I didn’t want to have to do it, but your boyfriend is apparently a shit shot.” He holds his hand out and the driver places a weapon in his palm.
“This is how you fight your wars, uncle?” I slowly reach for my gun, keeping my moves light so they don’t stop me. “The coward’s way?”
His face twists, “I am not a fucking coward you little bitch!” His spit lands on my cheek just as his foot lands another blow to my ribs.
I hiss through the pain, but it allows me enough movement to slide my hand up my dress.
There’s three of them and one of me. All I need to do is get away, buy enough time to deal with this.
If I can take one or all of them out, then I will, but that isn’t my goal.
Survive.
That is the only goal.
Rio betrayed me.
My right-hand fucking man.
My uncle is a rat. A coward. A fucking traitor.
I get a bloody grip on my gun and click off the safety just as he rises to his full height again. He moves to level the gun with my head, so I move quicker and fire blindly. It hits him in the arm.
He cries out in pain, falling away, and I scramble up, almost going down again when the pain in my leg flares to life. I cannot keep in the cry of agony as I use the car to keep my balance and start to run.
Rio remains still, eyes on me, not firing or even moving to lift his weapon, just watching. There is no emotion on his face, but then he lifts his hand and gives me a little finger wave.
I’m going to kill him first.
I duck around the car just as another shot is fired, missing me by only a couple of inches.
Run, Elena. Run!
So I do, the pain in my body second to the need to survive.
Adrenaline gives me enough boost to cover the pain for now as I take off in a sprint, kicking off my heels in the process.
Immediately the dirt and the grit bite into my soles, cutting up my feet.
Shots ring out behind me, but I zig zag, praying they miss every time I hear the pop echo off the mountains.
One catches me on the arm, grazing my left shoulder, but for now, the pain is a dull afterthought.
Just keep running.
I head for the line of trees for cover, my uncle’s voice carrying behind me.
“Stop her!” He bellows.
I keep going. My toe catches on an upturned root, and I go down, my knee slamming against a jagged rock, but I get up and I keep going.
Survive, Elena. SURVIVE!
I have nothing but a gun in my hand and the clothes on my back. I dropped my cell back there, I don’t have my purse, that’s in the car.
Sweat rolls down my face, dampening my hair and my clothes stick. The blood continues to run down my leg, warm and wet, and I know I’m leaving a trail. Fuck!
I glance behind me but there’s no one there, so for a minute I pause, resting against a tree. I am covered in dirt and blood, clumps of mud sticking to the blood on my skin, but if I stop too long, if I think about it too hard, the pain will only cripple me.
There’s no room for fear.
My labored breaths are the only noise I hear, so I quickly rip off the end of my dress and start winding it around the wound.
It won’t stop the bleeding, but it’ll be enough to stop leaving a trail behind me.
Pain throbs, a fiery burn that has my entire leg flaring, but I tie the knot and start again.
But the push has left me. I’ve nothing left.
Using the trees for balance, I move through the woods, thankful for the shade they provide. The pain beneath my bare feet is nothing compared to the rest of my body, my heart is pounding, my head throbbing and I’ve started to drag the injured leg, which only adds to the injuries on my feet.
But still, I walk until the sun begins to dip and then completely go down behind the mountains, plunging the landscape around me into darkness. Still, I walk.
My vision swims, the blood loss, dehydration and fatigue all working in tandem. They didn’t kill me, but this surely will.
And then what? I’ll be food for whatever wildlife stalks these parts. I’m sure any predators in the area have already picked up on the scent of my blood, I may as well have a flashing red light on my head, leading them right to me.
I need to find shelter.
Somewhere with water.
Branches snap under my weight as I navigate through the trees for what feels like hours and then see a small light, like the light on a porch. It’s dim but it’s there, shining through the trees.
I can’t go to someone’s house, I can’t trust anyone, but they may have a hose I can get water from, maybe some laundry left out to dry and forgotten hanging on a line. People still do that, right?
My thoughts are a whirling mess.
But I move toward that light, crossing fields until I can make out the shapes of several buildings.
In the field to the side of me, cattle graze, and on the right, a few horses.
A ranch with barns and outbuildings. The light is coming from the barn right ahead of me, not a house I realize, but I can’t see past all the farming structures.
I can work with this.
Weakly, I move to the nearest barn, keeping as quiet as I can, and find the hose. Is it drinkable? Who fucking knows?
The faucet squeaks as I turn it and then grab the end, bringing it to my mouth.
Ice cold water hits my tongue, and I practically groan as I swallow it down.
I drink until I physically can’t anymore and then move the water to my head, letting it cascade over me, drenching my hair, my skin until a bloody, dirty puddle forms under my feet.
It’s so quiet. Crickets chirp in the long grass and the cattle huff heavy breaths into the night. I can stay here for a few hours, until morning light at least, and then I can figure out what the fuck I do next.
Who can I trust anymore? Who has my uncle turned? I never suspected Rio.
Hooking my fingers into the lip of the barn door, I pull it open, the weight almost making it impossible, but I get it open just enough to slip inside.
I can barely see, but when I reach out with my hand, it touches what feels like straw, so I keep going, feeling until I find a gap that’s big enough for me to fit through.
I find the spot and finally, I rest, lowering onto the straw with a groan and I pray I make it through the night.