Chapter 3 - Wyatt
The steady vibration of the engine usually settles my nerves when I need it, but tonight, it does the opposite. Rather, she’s the cause.
She’s silent in the back seat…almost unnervingly so with her arms crossed, spine stiff, and gaze fixed stubbornly out the window. The tension rolls off her in waves, sharp enough to form an invisible barrier around her.
As much as I just want to focus on getting her as far away from Vito’s place as possible, with no tangible plan in mind, something in my chest tightens at the sight of her. It’s entirely unwelcome, but that doesn’t seem to matter.
It feels like guilt dusted with a strange sort of responsibility I never asked for.
I’ve spent years making sure my choices only get me killed if worse comes to worst, but now, I’m carrying her fear with me, and I don’t know what to do with it.
Clearing my throat, it sounds rough in the enclosed space. “What’s your name?”
She sits there in silence for a beat longer, as if debating whether she should say anything at all, then sighs reluctantly. “Elena.”
Elena.
It suits her.
“You’re safe, Elena.”
She doesn’t look at me, but I still catch the irritation in her eyes. “That’s debatable.”
Fair enough.
For some reason, part of me feels the need to explain myself, even if I’m still working on understanding my motives. Or whatever the hell I plan on doing with her.
“I’m not taking you somewhere you won’t come back from,” I murmur, intentionally careful now. “I don’t hurt women.”
Finally, Elena’s eyes flick over to me, both assessing and doubtful. “You manhandled me into this car not that long ago.”
“You were resisting.”
“I was abducted. Twice.”
I wince inwardly, since she’s entirely right. “I know.”
It’s not much of a response, but it earns me another burning glare before she looks away again.
Gripping the wheel tighter, I try not to lose myself in this annoying urge to reassure her. Words aren’t always my strong suit, and they never have been. Using violence when applicable is simpler and easier, but something tells me she deserves more than silence and intimidation tactics.
“Think what you want, but I’m not a monster,” I murmur, letting my hand slide across the steering wheel lazily as I turn onto another road leading back to the main strip.
She huffs. “The jury’s still out.”
Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitches in an almost-smile.
Just as I’m about to say more, to try and explain more about Vito, the Grimaldis, and why she was even bound to that chair like cargo, the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and instincts scream silently in my head.
Checking the rearview mirror once, then twice, I catch a set of headlights coming up behind me faster than necessary. It’s all black and missing plates. Another slides in beside it, almost like it’s choreographed, and my stomach drops.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, feeling adrenaline pooling in my system.
Elena’s voice cuts through the tense silence, “What is it?”
“Brace yourself.”
Before she can question me further, the crack of gunfire shatters through the open space, forcing me to punch the gas harder.
Elena gasps as several bullets get lodged in the back window, cracking the glass just enough to look worrisome. Her eyes widen as they meet mine, and I grit my jaw tight.
“Get down!”
Doing as I say, Elena ducks, shielding her head for extra protection.
The bulletproof glass holds tight for now, but that doesn’t mean it’ll hold forever.
Swerving, I watch as one of the vehicles pulls up to my left side while I fight to keep control, able to see the flashes coming from their pistols.
I don’t even need to take a guess. I already know it’s them.
The Grimaldis.
Cursing under my breath, I try to focus on driving, looking for some way to evade them. Then, Vito’s words register in the back of my mind, and I already know they were waiting for me to leave. They had likely already closed in to collect Elena and had likely seen me go with her.
Obviously, they’re not prepared to let this go.
“Stay down until I say it’s clear,” I bark at her, heart raging against my ribs.
Engaging in a car chase on my own is one thing, but doing so with her in the back is another story. One that I don’t want to end poorly.
A bullet sinks into one of the rear panels, making my grip on the wheel tighten as I push the car harder down the highway.
Fuck.
I pulled her out of that warehouse to keep her safe, not to potentially get her killed in a gunfight.
Reaching for my gun, I click the safety off and roll the window down, firing blindly at the car to my left, watching as it swerves away momentarily. At the same time, I hit the gas, hearing the engine almost seem to growl, but not in protest.
Elena stays deathly quiet in the back, and while it makes me nervous not to hear anything from her, I use the opportunity to try and focus on the task at hand.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her as I reload as fast as I can with one hand, balancing it against the wheel before returning more shots. “Just stay down and breathe.”
I don’t know why the words come out like a promise rather than instructions, but they do.
The road ahead curves sharply, and I take it fast, forcing my tires to skid just as another bullet shatters the side mirror.
They’re good…coordinated. I’ll give them that.
But I know this isn’t just a scare tactic like they usually try to pull. They want her, and they’ll do whatever it takes to get her.
That thought stitches its way into my mind, lingering as I land a few good shots to the hood of the one on my left. Obviously hitting something important, smoke curls out of its creases a moment later as the car fishtails into the ditch.
The second one doesn’t slow, but there’s enough of a lag for me to pull in a breath and steel myself.
“Wyatt—”
I risk a glance as my name is pulled from her throat, almost sounding like a foreign thing, and I hate the way this picture makes my heart clench.
She’s crouched down low, eyes wide and hands trembling against her head.
As she shifts, I see the gleam of red on her cheek.
It’s nothing alarming, but it’s obviously a shallow cut from flying glass.
It’s enough to make that rage surge inside me, hot and impossible to avoid.
“Hold on,” I murmur, jerking the wheel as I veer off onto a side road leading back to an industrial access lane. The car follows, relentless, as expected.
Pushing down as hard as I can, gaining momentum for both of us, I slam the brakes just enough for them to close the distance, then whip sideways to spin us into a controlled skid.
Before they can correct themselves, I’m firing through their windshield, and the impact is brutal.
Their car clips mine, grinding metal on metal before slamming sideways into a concrete barrier. The sound is both deafening and crushing. Final, even.
As my car idles, silence follows, but it’s far from peaceful. It’s just empty.
Then, I keep going, pulling away at a normal speed.
I don’t stop driving until we’re closer to the main strip, and even then, I weave through various streets and dark corners. After what feels like forever, my pulse starts to slow, and I eventually ease off the gas, pulling into an empty parking lot out of sight.
With the car in park, I finally look back at Elena again, finding her still breathing hard, hands clenched in her lap.
“You hurt?” I ask, turning to her fully now.
She shakes her head and sits up normally, swallowing hard. “No…”
“Look at me.”
She does so reluctantly, meeting my gaze.
Before she can try to look away, I scan her face, her arms, and everywhere else I can see for visible blood. Aside from the small cut on her cheek, she’s intact. Alive. That’s what matters now.
Relief hits me harder than I expect, but I keep it to myself, letting go of a discreet breath.
“They wanted you…more than I assumed,” I say quietly, almost like the words were meant more for myself than for her.
Her brows furrow, fear-stricken eyes slowly changing to confusion. “What?”
“That chase wasn’t about me. Not really, anyway,” I continue, letting my grip on the wheel adjust. “That was a pickup gone wrong.”
“But why? What do they want with me?”
“Other than the fact that Vito was going to sell you off to them and didn’t to save his skin from me, I don’t know,” I mumble, trying to consider all the possibilities as my eyes flick back over to hers. “They aren’t above trying to fuck with me on a normal day, but never like that.”
Elena’s confusion morphs into something more akin to helplessness as she puts her arms out in defeat. “But why? I’m not…I don’t have anything—”
“You’re valuable,” I utter, studying her features closer than I should, taking in how that lingering fear makes her look impossibly beautiful. My words sink in as I say them, slowly connecting the pieces. “Somehow, some way, you’re worth risking lives for.”
“Worth it to who?”
“The Grimaldis, apparently,” I say, considering the fact. “And the Balakins. Likely others…which means Vito wasn’t lying. He took you with the intention of selling you, so obviously you’re valuable.”
Elena goes still, almost like she’s afraid one wrong breath could make all of this go very, very wrong for her.
Then, anger sparks in her blue eyes, searing through her fear. “I’m not property.”
“I know. I didn’t say you were.”
She blinks back at me, seemingly surprised to hear it. “So you’re…not going to sell me off, too?”
“No,” I mumble, holding her gaze long enough to catch that flicker of hope within it. The thought of selling anyone, let alone her, makes that irritation burn in my chest. “You’re not going to be sold to anyone, so long as I can help it.”
I don’t give her time to say anything else about the matter as I turn back around, put the car in drive, and pull out of the parking lot.
My mind is already racing as that clarity drips into my system.
I’ve been dodging the Grimaldis long enough to know they don’t make moves like that unless they’re invested and have something serious at stake. Whatever leverage Elena represents, it’s enough for them to risk not only their lives but also being seen so recklessly in public.
Which means, the safest place for her is under my protection, and under my name.
If it means throwing everything back in their faces while I’m at it, then so be it.
“Where are we going now?” Elena asks warily, obviously not trusting me entirely yet. In all honesty, it’s a good instinct, even if I don’t plan on harming her.
“Somewhere secure.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the one you’re getting for now,” I say, not leaving room for protest as I glance back at her.
She presses her lips in a tight line, clearly unhappy with being left in the dark, but she doesn’t push. She already knows it won’t get her anywhere.
She learns fast.
Driving through the city, biding my time through traffic, I make sure we’re not being followed, and only when I’m certain do I approach the nondescript office building.
Pulling up, I feel the weight of what I’m about to do settle in. This wasn’t part of the plan, and I sure as hell didn’t calculate it.
But I acted on instinct and spite back at Vito’s, all to protect someone who reminds me far too much of my sister and not at all like a bargaining chip to let whatever dark fate he had planned for her unfold.
As much as I’m still acting impulsively, whatever Elena is worth to the Grimaldis and Balakins, she’s about to be worth far more to me.