Chapter 17 #3

The vehicle rocketed past our hiding spot, the engine roaring like a beast, its passenger window rolled halfway down.

I caught a glimpse of the driver’s profile through the tinted glass for one split second.

My blood turned to ice. My lungs locked up.

I tugged at Jude’s arm, my fingers digging into his muscle.

‘It’s Dario,’ I whispered, my voice cracking, my finger trembling as I pointed at the retreating red taillights. ‘Jude, oh my god, that’s him. That’s the man from the Instagram recruitment video. He’s here.’

Jude’s jaw clenched so hard a vein throbbed in his temple.

He slid out his phone, dialing with his thumb while keeping his firearm trained on the entrance, his eyes black with a murderous rage.

‘Kian, we’ve got an active scene at the Bourbon Steak garage,’ Jude rasped into the receiver, his voice calm despite the chaos.

‘Three shooters. Two are neutralized on the ground, but one escaped in a navy sedan heading north. Sofia made him; it’s Dario, the guy who recruited her.

The car turned left, headed toward the highway. ’

He listened for a beat, then hung up.

‘Help is on its way.’

Blue emergency lights danced across the ceiling as a dozen police cruisers descended on us, their tires skidding to a halt.

Sirens wailed, cutting through the Nashville night in a deafening chorus.

Minutes later, senior detectives arrived on the scene.

All six bandmates stood in a loose semicircle, braced, alert, and solemn as they gave their official accounts to the cops.

I sat in the passenger seat of Jude’s Escalade, my eyes locked on him through the windshield.

My heart hammered with worry as he gripped his bicep to stem the steady flow of blood.

Across the lot, Evangeline perched on the hood of Angel’s sports car, pouting like a spoiled child while Angel spoke to a sergeant.

‘How long is this going to take?’ Evangeline whined at one point, rolling her eyes.

She shut her mouth with a gulp the second the entire band turned their heads and glared at her with pure, unadulterated disgust.

I let out a ragged chuckle at her chagrin; she deserved it.

An ambulance arrived on the scene, its doors swinging open, and two medics stepped out.

Leaving the Escalade, I moved to Jude’s side and reached for his good arm, my touch tender.

‘Mio bellissimo, please. You need to let them take care of that wound.’

He arched a brow, his intense gaze falling to his shoulder where the bleeding slowed to a nasty, jagged gash.

‘You’re right,’ he muttered, the tension in his shoulders dropping a fraction as he locked eyes with me.

He allowed me to lead him with a gentle hand to the paramedic, who got to work cleaning the shallow furrow on Jude’s arm.

Jude flinched as the medic wrapped his bicep in a thick white gauze bandage.

Tucking his shirt back over it, Jude thanked the ambulance paramedic, and we made our way back to our ride.

As we did, we caught more high-pitched whining from Evangeline, followed by Angel’s infuriated, timbred whisper for her to shut her mouth.

‘You done with the drama?’ my man asked in a throaty rumble.

I glanced at him, tracking his gaze and arched brow.

His eyes were on Evangeline, and I got that he was talking more about Angel’s toxic woman than the actual gun battle we’d just survived.

I huffed out a breath and nodded, leaning into his side. ‘Can’t wait to roll out.’

‘The cops have our contact details, and Kian will give us an update later. There’s no need to stick around,’ Jude rasped.

He raised a hand to wave off his bandmates as their high-end engines roared to life, their cars peeling out of the parking garage one by one.

‘Can you drive?’ I asked, my fingers reaching up to stroke the stubble of his cheek, searching his face for any sign of pain.

‘Of course I can. Just a graze, babe,’ he winked, but I caught how his emerald eyes softened at my touch.

He gripped my elbow, giving me a tight squeeze of reassurance that sent a wave of heat to my chest.

Guiding me to his truck, he helped me strap in, and we drove off, heading home into the night.

The adrenaline faded, leaving me in awe of his ferocious heroism and protective skill.

Jude handled lethal chaos without a single trace of panic, a seasoned operator.

My respect for him grew, as did my craving.

Cazzo!

We pulled into his driveway, and Jude killed the engine.

He leaned across the center console, his eyes fierce with an intensity that made my stomach flip.

‘I’m glad you’re OK, Sofia,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with fervent emotion.

‘All because of you and the rest of the Six Sinners stepped up. Thank you.’

‘Again with the gratitude woman. I couldn’t help it, it was instinctive because nobody touches what’s mine,’ he rasped.

He lifted my hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss on my knuckles, making my skin tingle.

I reached out, my fingers trembling as I once more glided my hand over the rough stubble of his jawline.

Loving how this dangerous man anchored me in an overwhelming, beautiful sense of security. I was safe.

No matter what storm was coming for us, with him, I’d always feel protected.

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