Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Emmanuel
I squeeze the steering wheel when I see the bastard a half mile ahead—huge Escalade with the patchy camo wrap, like that’s gonna hide him from me.
My lights are off. My siren quiet.
I don’t want to pull him over. I doubt he’ll stop and the last thing I want is a high-speed chase that will put Cutter in danger.
So I just cruise on by with my pulse racing. I try to look into his truck, but the windows are tinted way too dark. If they weren’t, I bet I’d see a familiar furry face lying on the backseat.
My car rolls forward and I get a glimpse of the man who’s making my jaw clench. Angelo is smoking a cigarette with the windows cracked. My eyes narrow on the scorpion tattooed on his neck.
“ Motherfucker ,” I whisper as I tear my badge off my chest and drop it onto the passenger seat. No more rules. This isn’t about the law. It’s about revenge. “You’re so dead.”
He glances at me and sucks his teeth. I grit my teeth and speed up.
It’s time to see what this car can do. Luckily, he slows down so I don’t pull him over, which allows me to race ahead.
I get a good mile or two in front of him—right at the perfect spot beside the cliffs—before I skid to a stop on the shoulder and leap out of my car with my heart pounding.
I keep my eyes down the dark empty highway as I rush to my trunk, pull out the spike strips, and haul ass to the pavement.
I kept note of the cars I passed after seeing Angelo. One car passes, then another.
He’s up next.
I crouch low, breathing steady, hands gripping the metal as he approaches.
Closer…
Closer…
I launch the strips across the highway with a grunt right before his headlights pass. He slams on the brakes when he sees them, but it’s too late. He’s going too fast. Sparks fly as Angelo’s Escalade hits it at full speed. His truck swerves. The tires screech and hiss.
He tries to gun it, but he’s rolling on his rims and he quickly loses control, sparks flying everywhere. I sprint over as the truck crashes onto the shoulder, nearly tipping over before coming to an abrupt stop.
The headlights are shining against the mountain when I get there, breathing heavily and worried that something happened to Cutter. He means so much to Lucy and I made a promise that I’d get him home alive. That’s one promise I need to fulfill.
I’m about to open the back door to check on the dog when the driver’s door bursts open and Angelo stumbles out, dazed with blood pouring from a cut on his nose. He’s got a wild look in his eyes.
And a gun in his hand.
He points it at me and fires.
The shot whistles past my head.
I don’t flinch. I just move.
I pull out my baton and smash it across his face.
He spins and stumbles into his truck, dropping the gun with a grunt. I snatch it up, take it apart in two seconds, and then launch the pieces over the cliff on the other side of the highway.
“Fucking pig,” he says as he takes a swing at me.
He’s too slow. Too weak.
I block his pathetic punch with my forearm and slap him across the face.
“You done?” I ask.
He grins through a bloody mouth. “I know who you are.”
“Good.”
“You’re the fucker who broke Shady’s wrist.”
“Yeah, and by the time I’m done, you’ll wish it was only your wrist. You’re about to find out just how creative I can get.”
I glance in the back through the open door and spot Cutter laying on the leather seats. He’s out of it, but he doesn’t look hurt. I hope he’s okay.
“What are you going to do?” he asks with a bloody grin as I grab his collar and pin him against his truck. “She’ll never be safe again. I’ll make sure of that. You can’t protect her forever. You fucking pigs can only do so much.”
I dig my forearm into his neck. “I’m not a cop right now.”
“Good,” he says. “Neither am I.”
He pulls a switchblade out of his jacket and swings it at me.
I catch his wrist and start slamming my fist into his face over and over. A car speeds by, but they don’t stop. Good. I don’t want any witnesses for what comes next.
I twist his wrist until he screams and then I headbutt him so hard we both stagger back.
He swings the knife again—but it’s slow and telegraphed. I dodge it and then give him a hard jab in the nose, following it up with a hard right to his chin. His legs buckle as his back slams against the purring truck.
“ Ahhh! ” he screams in frustration as blood pours from his nose. “I’m going to kill that bitch!”
He swings the knife wildly and slips on the ground. I don’t even have to move.
“No one steals from me!” he screams. “That dog was my property! I’m going to bleed her dry!”
Rage rushes through my body as I watch him swing the knife again. A violent primal feeling takes over—the caveman part of me that wants to keep my girl safe at all costs.
“I’m going to kill you,” he hisses as he swings the knife wildly. “Then I’m going to slit that dog’s throat, and then I’m going to find that cunt and do the same to her.”
I’ve heard enough.
I lunge forward and hit him with three hard punches—two in the face, one in the gut. He collapses like a sack of bricks, dropping the knife.
“You’re not going to touch her,” I snarl as I grab a fistful of his hair and pull him up to his feet. “She’s mine .”
I slam my fist into his head one more time and then toss him into the truck behind the wheel. He slumps forward, unconscious. I hear his fowl ragged breaths as I grab the seatbelt and use it to secure his wrists to the steering wheel.
I’m breathing heavily as I open the back door with my bloody hands and look at Cutter. He’s out cold, but he’s breathing. The tranquilizer will be wearing off soon and it’s time to get him home.
I gently slide my hands under his body and pick him up, carefully stabilizing his limp head.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I whisper as I carry him to my car. “It will all be over soon. Our girl is waiting for you and you’ll get all the belly rubs you want.”
I slide him onto the backseat of my cruiser, close the door, and open my trunk with determination pounding in my chest.
I grab a road flare as I glare at the sideways Escalade.
This ends now.
There’s no hesitation as I march back over, crossing the dark empty highway. I pop the cap off the Escalade’s gas tank, throw the truck into neutral, and wish Angelo a nice time in hell.
My muscles strain and flex as I push the truck back as hard as I can. Getting it off the shoulder takes every ounce of strength I have, but I manage to get it out. After that, rolling it across the pavement is easy.
It rolls to a stop in front of the cliff.
I take a few deep breaths as I take one last look at him. His eyes open as his head rolls to the side. He perks up when it dawns on him what’s about to happen.
“You’re never going to touch her again,” I say as I light the red flare.
He struggles against the seatbelt that’s pinning his wrists in place and he starts to scream. “I have money! I’ll make you rich!”
“I have everything I need,” I say as I head to the back. “I have her.”
I shove the flare into the gas tank, then push the truck as hard as I can, grunting and straining as it picks up speed. Tires crunch over gravel. Angelo’s screams echo through the silence of the mountains.
The weight leaves my hands as gravity takes over and the truck rolls off the cliff, vanishing into the night.
There’s a few seconds of silence before a crash and a thunderous explosion lights up the sky in orange and red.
I stand there, breathless, chest rising and falling, as the orange sky turns black again.
It’s over.
And I don’t feel a damn thing but peace.
Because I’d do it again.
In a heartbeat.
For her, there’s no line I won’t cross. No law I won’t break. No man I won’t kill.
She’s the only thing that matters.