29. Noah #2
I made a sharp turn, the transmission grumbling in protest as I took a shortcut through a narrow alley.
I pulled out of it, tires screeching as I maneuvered in front of George’s car on the narrow road.
He had no choice but to slam on his brakes, the smell of burning rubber filling the air.
In the rearview mirror, I could see the shock on his face through his windshield, but it quickly morphed into a twisted snarl.
If it had been just George and me, I would have stopped the car right then and there and faced him head-on. But I couldn’t risk it, not with Ro in the backseat. The kid’s safety was my top priority, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him getting caught in the crossfire.
My mind raced with possibilities, trying to figure out the best way to get Ro out of harm’s way.
I had to be smart about this, to use my head instead of just relying on brute strength.
George had proven how dangerous a shifter he was, and I’d already made the mistake of underestimating him. I couldn’t afford to do it again.
Through the rearview mirror, I caught another glimpse of Ro’s face pressed between the front seats. My heart clenched at the sight, a surge of protectiveness washing over me.
“Hang on, Zoey,” I said, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m going to get him out of there. I promise.”
The steering wheel creaked under my grip, the metal bending beneath my fingers as I fought to maintain control.
I eased off the gas, gradually slowing the car. George had no choice but to follow suit, trapped behind me on the narrow road. The distance between our vehicles dwindled.
Fighting George in my current state was a risky proposition, but I had no choice. I had to control my temper, so I took a moment to steady myself, bracing myself for what was to come.
With a final, steadying breath, I grabbed the door handle.
George had already climbed out of his car, his movements slow and deliberate. His gaze was locked on me, eyes narrowed with a mixture of anger and calculation. He raised his gun, the barrel pointed directly at me through the windshield.
George had no intention of engaging in a fair fight. At his core, he was a coward, relying on weapons and intimidation to maintain control. The fact that he had his gun trained on me only confirmed my suspicions.
Slowly, I opened the door and stepped out of the car, my hands raised in a gesture of surrender. The movement sent a fresh wave of pain rippling through my abdomen, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it.
“George, let the kid go,” I said. “This is between you and me.”
He sneered at me. “You think you’re in a position to make demands, Noah? I hold all the cards here.”
I took a step forward, my hands still raised. “You don’t want to hurt Roland. He’s your son, for fuck’s sake.”
“Don’t tell me what I want,” George snarled, his finger inching closer to the trigger. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
He was right. George’s cruelty knew no bounds, and the fact that he had his own son in the crosshairs only proved it.
My mind raced, searching for a way out of this situation. I couldn’t take him on directly, not in my current state. “Think about what you’re doing, George.” I kept my tone measured. “The cops are already on their way. You won’t get far.”
George looked to the road behind me, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. I’d struck a nerve. He was a man who valued his own skin above all else.
“Shut up,” he growled. “I’m the one calling the shots here, not you.”
I took another step forward, ignoring the sweat beading on my brow. “Let Roland go, George. That’s all I’m asking. You don’t want to add kidnapping to your list of charges.”
I watched Ro try both back doors of the car, but the child locks must have been engaged,
For a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of hesitation in George’s eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by cold, hard determination.
“You’re in no position to negotiate, Noah,” he said. “Get on your fucking knees. It’s time to end this.”
I kept my hands raised, palms open, as I faced George across the empty street. The metallic scent of my blood mingled with the crisp night air. Inside, my wolf howled in protest at my passive stance. He wanted to destroy George, tear out his throat for threatening our mate’s pup.
I clenched my jaw, holding firm. It was too risky with Roland still here.
George smirked, the gun steady in his grip as he aimed it at my chest. “Not so tough now, are you, mutt? Without your pack to back you up?”
“I don’t need a pack to take you down. Put the gun away before you get hurt.”
George barked out a harsh laugh. “Big words from a lone wolf bleeding out in the street. I’m going to enjoy putting a bullet between your eyes.”
My wolf thrashed against my mental barriers, desperate to break free and rip George limb from limb. But shifting now wouldn’t help. He’d shoot me again before I could reach him.
I took a slow breath, refusing to let my rising fear and frustration show.
Roland’s face peeked out from the backseat, his green eyes wide with terror as they met mine.
When George glanced over his shoulder to check the surroundings, I gave the boy a quick nod, trying to convey reassurance I didn’t fully feel myself.
George turned back to me with a sneer. “Pathetic. You really thought you could play hero? Save the day and win the girl? You get nothing, Noah, and I get everything. Including Zoey.”
“This isn’t about Zoey,” I ground out, though my heart clenched at the mention of my fated mate. “It’s about you being a sorry excuse for a father. Roland deserves better.”
George’s face twisted with rage, and he took a menacing step forward. “Shut your mouth. You don’t know anything about being a father. That boy is mine, and I’ll do whatever I damn well please with him.”
Roland flinched at the venom in his father’s voice, shrinking back against the seat. It made my blood boil hotter than any fever. I kept my hands raised, hating the illusion of surrender even as I racked my brain for a plan.
“Last chance, George. Put the gun down and let Roland go before this gets any uglier than it already is.”
George barked out a harsh laugh and looked around again. “You’re on the wrong end of the barrel to be making demands, Alexander.”
While he was distracted with his gloating, I flicked my gaze to Roland and gave a subtle hand signal for him to open the door and run. The boy’s terrified expression morphed into one of understanding.
As George continued his mocking tirade, Roland carefully climbed over the center console into the front passenger seat.
My heart hammered against my ribs, my wolf’s eyesight straining to watch as Roland’s hand curled around the door handle.
Come on, buddy. You can do this.
I forced myself to keep my attention on George, determined not to give away the escape attempt. “You’re a coward, James,” I spat, ignoring the flare of agony from my gunshot wound. “Hiding behind a weapon because you know you’d never beat me in a fair fight.”
George’s eyes flashed with indignant fury. He opened his mouth to retort, but the click of the passenger door unlatching cut him off.
In the space of a breath, the door swung open, and Roland launched himself out of the car. His feet hit the pavement, and he ran away from the confrontation as fast as his legs could manage.
“Run, Roland!” I roared, all pretense abandoned. “Get out of here!”
George’s head whipped. His expression contorted with rage as he realized what had happened. “You bastard!”
He raised the gun, aiming it at Roland’s back. Terror seized my heart. I couldn’t let him hurt that boy.
Ignoring the searing pain, I lunged forward, throwing my full weight against George. The gun went off, the shot going wide as we crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
George snarled, trying to aim the gun at me. I grappled with him, my fingers closing around his wrist. We rolled across the rough asphalt, wrestling for control.
But blood loss and injury had taken their toll. George wrenched his arm free and slammed the butt of the gun against my temple. Stars exploded across my vision.
Dazed, I struggled to rise, but George kicked me in the ribs, the blow flipping me onto my back. He towered over me, lips curled in a sneer.
“Pathetic. You thought you could beat me? Look who’s got the upper hand now. Not such a tough guy, are you? At my feet, where that bitch Zoey would be. I’d make you suck my cock, but you’re not my type.” He scoffed. “I don’t have time. I have to go get the fucking brat.”
“You probably couldn’t get it up, anyway,” I spat, glaring up at him from where I lay crumpled on the pavement.
George’s face twisted with rage. Before I could react, he kicked my jaw so hard that my head snapped back and my mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood.
Spots danced in my vision as I struggled to focus. I heard the click of a gun being cocked and forced my eyes open to see George taking aim, the barrel of his pistol pointed directly at my head.
But just as George’s finger tightened on the trigger, the wail of approaching sirens shattered the tense silence. His head whipped around, a snarl of frustration contorting his features.
“This isn’t over,” he growled, lowering the gun. Backing toward his car, he kept his eyes locked on mine. “I’ll be back for the kid. And for you.”
Then he wrenched open the driver’s side door and got in behind the wheel.
I watched helplessly as he gunned the engine, tires squealing against the asphalt.
With a sharp jerk of the wheel, he mounted the curb, then executed a hasty three-point turn behind Zoey’s car and tore off down the narrow alley I had used to overtake him.
Ro was my last desperate thought as the edges of my vision began to darken and the pain threatened to pull me under.
The sirens grew louder, blue and red lights strobing across the night sky. My tenuous grip on consciousness slipped away.
Then darkness washed over me.