Chapter 7
Walking away from the arguing men, I felt claustrophobic for the first time in ages. Like the walls of my life were closing in, and if I didn’t get out now, they’d shut me behind them.
Get out.
The words pushed me forward, nearly tripping over myself to leave. Get air. Find peace. Something.
I was nearly to the door before he stopped me.
“Going out, boss?”
I whipped around to find Moore leaning against the wall, eyes focused on me. I hadn’t heard him following me, hadn’t noticed his steps or breathing. Nothing. It was an impressive feat for how massive he was.
I waved behind us. “There’s too much testosterone in there for me, so I’m going for a drive.”
“Let me call Geneva for you,” he offered.
“No thanks.” I didn’t want my driver. I wanted freedom. Control. Space.
Moore shrugged. “I’ll come with you, then. Might need to take one of the bigger cars, though. I don’t fit in your little roadster.”
“You won’t,” I said firmly. “I don’t need an escort or a companion. I need silence and an hour to myself.”
Moore shook his head. “It’s not a good time to be caught alone, boss.”
It wasn’t, but I had no choice. I was drowning on land, suffocating on air. It was all too much. If I had to stay in the house for another second, I’d explode. “I know, and I promise to be careful.”
“Please let Greyson go with you.”
It was almost enough to get me to agree. Moore never asked for anything. Not from me. But I couldn’t. Just the thought of being in a confined space with Grey made my skin crawl. I hated the feeling.
“You are not, under any circumstances, to tell him where I am.” Moore opened his mouth, but I shushed him with a hand. “Both the car and I are chipped. If he needs to find me, he can have my location in seconds. Beyond that, I’m armed in case of an attack, and we both know the car itself isn’t going to let anything get to me.”
Getting the fucking tracker had been a two-week argument that had only ended in Greyson’s favor because a rival had tried to have me kidnapped. I’d come back bloody and seething and promptly gotten not only myself, but him chipped too. As much as I hated feeling like someone’s pet, I liked the security of knowing Grey could track me if he had to.
I’d given Rey a tracking chip too but turned out implants didn’t do shit against bullets.
“I’m as safe as I can get.” It wasn’t strictly true, but I needed the freedom and a few minutes of peace before I lost my goddamn mind.
Finally, Moore nodded and followed me in, eyes on me as I snatched the keys I needed from the pegboard on the wall.
The emerald McLaren was stupidly expensive, especially since Greyson had had it custom-made to his specifications to be as bulletproof as possible. If someone wanted to take out the driver, they’d have to work hard to do it.
It had originally been my brother’s, and I’d kept it after he died. Driving it made me feel close to Antoni, and that was what I needed desperately. My safe space. My other half.
Even just for a few minutes.
Moore frowned. “If I think for a second that anything’s wrong, I’m telling Greyson.”
Knowing it was the best I was going to get, I clapped him on the shoulder and slung myself into my car. Just turning over the engine and listening to it purr eased some of the tension in my shoulders.
Yes, this is what I need.
I could see the war in Moore, the desire to keep me safe. Any other day, I would’ve backed down. He’d lost his best friend in a situation out of his control, and now his boss was going off the rails. The last thing I wanted to do was cause him more stress, but I needed the release. It was either driving or fucking, and now wasn’t the time to invite a random bed partner over.
I hit the button for the garage door and rolled down the window. “I’ll be back soon. I just need some?—”
“Time. I get it. Just take care of yourself.” It wasn’t an order; it was a plea. A prayer to be safe, a reminder that as tough as we were, we were still flesh and bone. Still fragile.
“I’ll come home in one piece,” I promised.
Putting the car in drive, I ignored his mumbled words. “But will you be breathing?”
* * *
The drive, though unadvised, considering the state of my life, was exactly what I needed. I sped through the city, certain that no one would pull me over. The cops were in my pocket, and the sheriffs weren’t far behind. I was as untouchable as I could be. Sure, the other families knew I was out and about, but they didn’t know I was alone. The window tint made sure of that.
When I got out of the city, I rolled down the windows again, turned on some music, and sang as loudly as I could. Okay, it was more screaming than singing, but the catharsis was incredible.
Nearly an hour, and countless missed calls and texts later, I decided to head home. I still felt unmoored, but it wasn’t as bad. Once Gilded was open and I could focus on removing the Aces from my life, I had no doubt I would feel better.
It was the only thing that had me turning the car back to the mansion.
I was ten miles outside the city when the McLaren shuddered and slowed. The tires jerked, and I had a moment to thank whatever deities still listened to me that the forecasted rain had held off. The last thing I needed was a car accident.
“What now?” I muttered as I pulled off the deserted highway, but I didn’t get out. Finger tapping on the car’s console screen, I dialed Grey.
The phone rang twice before he picked up. “Do you need me?”
That right there was why Grey would always be my right hand. No questions, no hesitation. Do you need me? He’d die with me on this godforsaken ship and smile doing it. That kind of loyalty couldn’t be bought, and even though I was pissed at the grandstanding he and Dominic were doing, I reminded myself to cherish it. To cherish him.
I wouldn’t have him to myself forever.
“I got a flat.”
“Send me your location.”
He already knew it, but I did as he asked anyway. I heard the ping of his phone and the grunt that could mean anything from got it to everyone roll out. “Was it intentional?”
I knew what he was saying. Is this an attack?
Honestly, I didn’t know. The drive had been last minute, with no plan for where I was going to end up. I’d left the city from one direction and was coming home from another. The possibility of my car dying as part of a setup seemed incalculably low, but an abundance of caution had kept me alive through some gruesome shit. “It’s unlikely.”
“Fine. Stay inside.”
Apparently, the drive hadn’t been enough. Irritation bubbled through me, and I had to breathe deeply before I could answer. “I know, Grey. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”
“Maybe not, but your decision-making skills lately?—”
Thankfully, he was interrupted by a tapping on my window. Honestly, I loved Grey to death and back, but we were about to have a come-to-Jesus chat that would very likely end in one of us meeting him.
Peering out, I spotted a man. I couldn’t see much through my tint, but he was tall and taking large steps back so that he wasn’t right up on my door. It was a wildly thoughtful gesture, one I appreciated.
“Oh, look. A Good Samaritan.” Flippant was the name of the game to ruffle the unflappable Greyson Andrews.
“Don’t even think about it, Mari,” Grey warned.
Mari, not reina. I hadn’t been reina since Dominic had come home, and suddenly, that pissed me off.
“See you when you get here, Greyson.” I hung up and slipped a gun into my lap. The holsters on the sides of the seats had been a genius move. When he stopped annoying me, I planned to give Grey all the credit.
Officially armed, I rolled the window down a scant inch. Not even wide enough for someone to stick the barrel of a gun through. Caution, thy name is Marianna. “Can I help you?”
“I think that’s my line.”
My lips quirked. Funny. “Got a flat.”
“Saw that. Need a hand?” He nodded, shoving a hand through his hair. Straight, nearly sun-bleached, which was odd for someone in the Pacific Northwest. We saw more clouds than we did sun in any given year. A quick peek showed no visible tattoos, but that didn’t mean anything. What got me was the vibe he gave off. Wary and a little uncomfortable. Helpful, but also desperate to leave.
I didn’t, but I kind of wanted him to stay. A part of me was desperate to pick his brain apart. “My friends are nearly here.”
“Are they used to fixing up fancy cars like that, or are they going to have a problem?”
Ah, it was the money that made him uncomfortable. My eyes dipped down to the worn jeans that wrapped around his legs, lighter in the thighs where they obviously had more wear, all the way to the scuffed shoes. Name-brand, but basic model. He didn’t seem threatening, but I’d seen a woman who looked blissed out on heroin pop up and slaughter a man in cold blood. Her eyes went from clouded to clear in no time flat. To say I didn’t trust appearances was an understatement.
Still, suddenly the McLaren felt ostentatious. It was wealth with no meaning. It was a blatant flaunting of something I didn’t feel I’d earned. Of privilege. For the first time, I almost wished I were in a Honda. Something normal. Something this man wouldn’t look at like it was a viper waiting to strike.
Get your shit together, Mari.
“They’ll be fine. One of them is good with cars.”
It was true. Despite being a shithead, Dominic was incredible with a wrench. He’d built his first motorcycle at eleven with his father. He’d been about to start on mine when he and his mother had moved away.
The man nodded, taking another step away from me, and I didn’t like it. He called to me. “Do you want me to wait until they arrive?”
I did. I really did. Which was why I said, “No. I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.” I didn’t respond, and he didn’t move. Finally, he sighed. “Look, I don’t feel good about leaving you out here by yourself. I’m going to head back to my car, but I can’t in good conscience leave until someone gets here for you. My mama would skin me for it.”
The man was nothing but nice. He hadn’t done or said anything to threaten me. In fact, just being around him made me the calmest I’d felt all week. But the idea of him moving out of my line of sight sent shivers down my back. I didn’t want to be wrong about him. “Actually, some help would be great.”
Then I hopped out of the car, tucking the gun back into the holster at my hip while the door blocked his view. At least if he came at me, I’d be armed.
“You know how to change a flat?” I asked, heading to the trunk.
“Sure do.”
I hummed as I got out the jack and the spare, stepping out of reach to watch. “Something else your mama taught you?”
He looked at me, eyes softer than they’d been before, and fuck, they were blue. Not the icy blue of a glacier or the soft blue of the sky. The blue of tropical waters. Warm water and sand between your toes. Something fruity in your glass. A vacation of comfort. I wanted to fall into them. “Something like that. I can teach you if you want.”
“I know how.”
His brows drew together. “Then why am I doing it?”
I laughed. “Two reasons. One, you asked. Two, I don’t trust men at my back.”
“Smart reasons.” He looked up at me again. “You have a beautiful laugh.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I occasionally let my brain cells rub together.”
Why was I talking to him? Why couldn’t I walk away? Why did I feel more normal than I ever had in my life? Like the weight of the world lifted right off my shoulders.
I didn’t know, and it was terrifying.
As if he knew I needed a reprieve from thinking, the man got back to work, twisting off the lug nuts with an ease that spoke of practiced efficiency. “Who taught you how to change a tire?”
“My cousin.”
“You lost them.”
I didn’t ask how he knew. When you’d stared death in the face, it left a mark on you. One you could see in others. “I did.”
“My condolences.” He paused but didn’t look at me. “Losing people you love is never easy.”
“How do you survive it?” I didn’t know why I asked or why I thought the stranger would tell me. There was just something about him that screamed that we were the same. Two hurt souls trying to survive in the world and heal. Kindred spirits on very different life paths. It was nicer than Id thought it would be to know I wasn’t alone.
“I remember that every breath I take is one they didn’t have the chance to use. It doesn’t make it easier, but it makes giving up harder.”
Our eyes connected again, and the moment hooked us both. It felt like a tether, some invisible string forcing us together. I found it impossible to break away.
That was why the gunshots caught me off guard.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Motherfuck.” The sight of two SUVs pulling up to block our exits triggered me back into movement.
I had a split second in which I debated leaving the Good Samaritan. The highway backed up to the forest. I could sprint into the trees and hide until Greyson came for me. I had no doubt I’d survive if I did, but the stranger wouldn’t, and after what we’d shared, I couldn’t leave him.
Even if the smart move would be to let him die, I’d never liked collateral damage like that. It weighed on the soul, and mine was already too heavy.
“Fuck,” I hissed, yanking him back with me and toward the far side of my car as bullets peppered the road. It was shit cover, especially since he was obviously taller than I was, but it was the only option we had.
I didn’t even have to count the men to know that we were screwed. At best, there were only two people in each SUV. At worst, there could be almost ten. Twenty against two weren’t the kinds of odds I enjoyed.
Grey was going to resurrect me just to kill me himself.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Pushing the panic away, I slid over the hood and took two shots, taking out two of the men in the first SUV. The Good Samaritan peeked over the edge, only to pull back and glance at me.
“You got a spare?”
I must’ve looked at him like he was nuts because he grinned. Fuck, he had a good smile. Focus, Mari!
“I grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Trust me, I’m a good shot.”
That wasn’t my concern. I was already battling too many enemies. If he turned out to be one too, I’d be dead faster than my men could find me. Then again, the scenario wasn’t looking good for my survival anyway. If I could get to the trunk without becoming a human fishnet, I’d be okay. I had weapons in there that would turn this firefight to ashes in no time, but even with a little cover, it wasn’t possible. More calculated risks, more danger than I wanted when I’d set out to clear my head. Especially when I had to do the one thing I’d been trained from birth not to do.
Trust someone other than my family.
Another spray of bullets peppered the car, and I made up my mind, consequences be damned. “Yeah, I’ve got one.”
I dipped my hand under the car, navigating by feel until my fingers were lined up on the manual keypad. I typed with both eyes on the danger until the mounted gun safe opened and I could hand him my gun’s twin. He grabbed for the grip, but I kept hold of it, forcing his eyes to mine.
“You got a name?”
“Nate.”
Why does that suit him?
“Well, Nate. Welcome to the circus. Shoot me, and you’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of this life and the next.”
He grinned again, and damn if my stomach didn’t twist at the sight. “Noted. This will be fun.”
I doubted it.
Slipping to the front of the car, I looked around. “You take the left, and I’ll?—”
Three shots rang out, followed by three distinct heavy thumps. He’d gotten three of the men in the left SUV, and with none coming out to replace them, I had hope.
“Your turn, warrior princess,” he joked. I snorted.
Falling back on my training, I lifted the gun, and muscle memory kicked in before I even had a conscious thought to pull the trigger.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Where there had been chaos a moment ago, only silence remained.
“You okay?”
“We got lucky.”
“I’d say that was half luck and half skill.” I didn’t answer, just snatched the gun from his hand. With the danger gone, I was revoking his access to a weapon.
Laser-focused, I moved to each of the bodies. Nate hadn’t lied; every one of them had a kill shot. Such a shame. It would have been nice to have a chat. Dead-looking or not, everyone now got a shot between the eyes so I didn’t get one in the back. Another Mario Marcosa life lesson.
I heard Nate’s breathing hitch and the whispered, “Christ,” but he wasn’t my problem.
“Toss me my phone,” I said, crouching near the closest body. Grey was probably having an aneurysm, and I had no doubt that he’d spend the next week glued to my ass if I allowed it. Considering I wanted to toss him into a volcano, I wasn’t so sure we’d survive it.
Maybe I’ll convince him we got hacked. That would save me a whole hour of his company.Nate stepped over to the McLaren and picked up my phone, handing it over instead of throwing it.
“Scared I wouldn’t catch it?”
Nate shrugged. “You may be comfortable throwing a thousand-dollar piece of tech around, but I’m not.”
And there was the guilt again. Looking away, I ignored the missed texts and dialed my second directly.
“You better be calling me to say they’re dead.”
After days of discontent and an itching frustration under my skin, that was the last straw. “Considering my joyride was ruined, my car is full of holes, and I’m surrounded by bodies, I suggest you watch your fucking tone, Greyson.”
There was a pause and a slow, relieved exhale. Like he didn’t believe I was safe until I snapped at him. Like all the bullshit we’d been wading through didn’t exist anymore. “Apologies, reina. Will we need medical?”
I was reina again, but for how long?
I peered over at Nate, but he didn’t even have a touch of road rash on him. Thankfully, neither did I. My dress for tomorrow wouldn’t look good with bandages. “No, but we have a complication.”
Grey snorted, and the sound eased a part of me that had been wound tight with our distance. “How many bodies?”
“Hmm, ten?” I counted distractedly as I pulled the dead man’s shirt out of his pants, lifting it to bare a tattooed chest. Most of the ink was beautifully done, but a few of the pieces caught my eye, and not in a good way. I hissed when I found what I was praying I wouldn’t. “We’ve got another complication.”
The shootout was already more complicated than I liked with Nate around, but the playing card inked on the dead man’s hip was the clearest sign I could ask for. One that I had no doubt I’d find on every body we’d dropped.
This wasn’t just a lucky shootout. It was an act of war.