Chapter 50 – thiago
Fifty
thiago
Iflip open the pizza box, tempted to take a slice, but close it again and decide to wait for Remi.
Checking my phone for what feels like the hundredth time, there’s still no call or text from her.
She said she’d be here thirty minutes ago.
Maybe she got held up at the tattoo shop now that it’s back in business, but if that were the case, why wouldn’t she call?
Unease works its way through me.
I tell myself I’m being paranoid, but my thoughts immediately turn to Elena. She’s been on my ass since I left the charity banquet early, and I know her patience is wearing thin. But she wants information from me. Going after Remi before I have it would jeopardize everything she sent me here to do.
Elena wouldn’t take that risk. At least, I have to believe she wouldn’t.
I call Remi again, but it goes straight to voicemail. The next two calls do the same. Then I text her and wait. When several minutes pass without a reply, I jump to my feet and start pacing the apartment.
“Remi, where are you?”
I argue with myself for another few minutes before sending one last text.
When that goes unanswered too, I’m done waiting.
I pull up Matteo’s number. I saved it from Remi’s contacts, never expecting to use it, but short of losing my mind and calling her parents, he’s the only person I can think of who might know where she is. “Fuck it.”
Hitting call, I send up a prayer that Matteo answers.
Four painfully long rings pass before a man’s voice finally comes over the line.
“Thiago,” he says, somehow already knowing it’s me.
“Hey, I’m sorry to call you like this, but I’m trying to get ahold of Remi. We were supposed to meet tonight, and she’s over an hour late. She isn’t answering her phone, and—”
“Look…” He pauses, and when he speaks again, his hesitation is enough to put me immediately on edge.
At this point, I know something’s wrong.
“Remi went to the track tonight to settle a score with some asshole. I’m only telling you this because I know you care about her. And I—”
“What’s the location?”
Silence follows.
From what I know, Furia isn’t tied to one spot. They move around to stay ahead of the cops, which means I can’t find her without an address.
“Thiago…”
“The location, Matteo.”
He finally gives it to me, and I end the call without another word, then run out the door.
The streets are more congested than usual on a goddamn Tuesday night. I lean on the horn and weave through traffic, sliding the truck between cars while suppressing the urge to bulldoze my way to the off-ramp.
What the fuck are you doing, Remi?
I know she’s more than capable of handling herself, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to stomach that she went after someone alone.
I jerk into the right lane and narrowly miss an SUV.
A chorus of horns follows me, but I don’t spare them a second thought as I keep moving, desperate for open road and a glimpse of my girl.
“Please be okay, fera.”
As I leave the city behind, traffic thins until there are barely any other cars on the road. Buildings give way to long stretches of darkness, and with every mile, everything around me grows still.
Then a familiar sound cuts through it.
Gunfire.
Every bit of training I have kicks in at once.
I slam my foot on the accelerator, and the truck surges forward as the speedometer climbs past one hundred in seconds.
My phone sits within reach. I know I should call this in. I should get backup and do the smart thing. But calling it in means cops, questions, and an investigation that could put Remi in handcuffs. For the first time in my career, I knowingly turn away from everything the badge demands of me.
Leaving the phone where it is, I give the truck another burst of speed, and the scene comes into view a few seconds later.
An R35 is parked in the middle of the road. A Hellcat sits nearby, and two women take cover behind it as they trade gunfire with a rusted box truck parked across the shoulder.
I recognize Remi immediately and the woman as her mother.
Jerking the wheel, I skid to a stop in front of the Hellcat, positioning my truck between them and the incoming fire, bullets tearing into the body panels.
I duck, grab my go bag from the back seat, throw open the door, and dive behind the front end for cover.
The second I appear, Amalia swings her weapon toward me.
“Mamá, no!”
At the last possible second, Remi knocks the barrel aside, and the round strikes the dirt instead of my skull.
“Thiago, what the hell are you doing here?” She ejects the empty magazine and slams in another. “How did you even find me?”
Before I can answer, Amalia curses and checks her rifle.
“I’m out.”
I tear open my bag, pull out my spare magazines, and slide them to her.
“There should be enough in there to keep them pinned down until we can make a break for it.”
Then I finally get a good look at Remi. She’s alive, on her feet, and right now, that’s enough.
“We’ll talk later.”
She nods once, pivots back toward the road, and opens fire. I join her, my focus on getting her home. The pressure in my chest lightens, and I drag in my first full breath since I got here.
“When they stop to reload, you and your mom get in the car and make a run for it,” I say, firing several rounds. “I’ll hold them off.”
“No.” She doesn’t even look at me. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
“Remi, it’s not up for discussion. You need to go.”
She leans out from cover and fires, dropping one of the bastards with a bullet to the neck, then turns to me.
“I’m sorry,” she says as she reloads. “You must have me confused with someone who takes orders.”
“He has a point, Remi,” Amalia says, slamming another magazine into her rifle. “Let’s go. You’ll catch up with him later.”
“No,” Remi says. “You go. We’ll be right behind you.”
“If you think I’m leaving you here with…” Amalia’s jaw tightens as she looks at me. “I don’t know him, and I can’t trust him with your life.”
“I trust him.”
Those three words cut through everything happening around us. My next exhale comes out rough, but there’s no time to let myself feel what they do to me. Remi places a hand on her mom’s arm, and Amalia squeezes it.
“We’ll be right behind you. I have a plan. Just trust me. Please.”
Amalia looks at me, and I see the hesitation written all over her face.
“I’ll keep her safe,” I tell her. “I promise.”
Her eyes hold mine for a long second before she gives me a single nod. “You better.”
I turn my attention back to the road and keep firing as they exchange a few more words behind me. The moment the shooting pauses, Amalia jumps into her Hellcat and tears down the road. Bullets follow her, but she’s already moving too fast.
“Remi, I’m on my last mag. We gotta move.”
“They’re not dead yet.”
Another car comes barreling toward us before I can argue. If we don’t get the fuck out of here now, we’re going to run out of ammo and then we’re dead.
Two weapons emerge from the windows, and a fresh barrage of gunfire tears into what’s left of my truck.
“Fuck this.”
I fire back as I move toward Remi, wrap an arm around her waist, and haul her against me. Her legs instinctively lock around my hips as I turn us toward the truck.
“Braga, put me down!”
“You’re not dying on this highway today.” I keep moving, using the truck as cover as bullets tear into the other side. “Besides, I made a promise to your mom. What kind of impression would I make if we both got shot?”
“I can walk.”
“Yeah? Then explain why your legs are wrapped around me.”
Despite the fact that we’re being shot at, I swear she almost smiles.
The few remaining windows shatter as I reach the truck. I shove Remi into the back seat and dive in after her, keeping my head low as another round rips through the passenger door.
I climb over the console, throw the truck into gear, and slam my foot on the accelerator. The tires screech on the pavement before catching, and we shoot down the road with the other car close behind.
“Now would be a good time for that plan,” I say, pushing the ruined truck as hard as it’ll go.
“One bullet left.”
Remi shifts to her knees and takes aim through what’s left of the rear window.
“Make it count, baby.”
“I plan to.”
She waits, watching the car gaining on us. “Almost there,” she murmurs. “Just a little closer.”
The shot cracks through the night, and the pursuing car swerves violently, giving us a few precious seconds of distance.
Remi immediately reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting rid of evidence.”
Her thumb hits the screen.
The R35 erupts behind us with a thunderous boom. Flames surge skyward as the last pursuing car disappears in the explosion.
For a heartbeat, I forget I’m supposed to be driving.
“You rigged a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car to explode?”
“I like to be prepared.”
“A replacement is already on the way, isn’t it?”
She drops back against the seat. “Obviously.”
“Right. Trust fund.”
Remi starts laughing, and this time, I can’t help but join her as the burning wreckage shrinks in the rearview mirror. My hands are still locked tight around the wheel, my pulse refusing to come down even though no one is chasing us anymore.
“This is going to be all over the news.”
“Yeah.” Her laughter fades and she climbs into the passenger seat. “You’re going to have to report it, aren’t you?”
I know what she’s really asking, so I take her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“We were never here.”
Her lips part as she stares at me. “Thiago…I don’t want you risking your job for me.” She goes quiet for a beat. “Wait. How did you even know where to find me?”
“Matteo told me where you were.”
She groans. “I’m going to kill him and his big fucking mouth.”
“To be fair, I’d already heard whispers about Furia.” I glance at her. “Is that what you do, Remi? You street race?”
Remi gives me a look. “Are you asking as Thiago or as a cop?”
“Thiago,” I say without hesitation.
“Then, yes.”
I shake my head, fighting a smile. “Is that why you hate cops?”
“Please. I hated cops long before you started ruining my life.”
“I’m glad to know it isn’t personal.”
“Oh, Braga. Some of it is definitely personal,” she adds with a wink.
I laugh under my breath and turn my attention back to the road.
“Remi, you said you’re not the type to take orders,” I say, squeezing her hand. “But I’m going to need you to bend that rule for me just this once, okay?”
Her mouth twitches. “You’re a shitty cop.”
I chuckle. “Yeah. I think I might be.”
She brings my hand to her lips this time and whispers, “Thank you.”
“Call your mom to let her know we made it out before she doubles back. Then we’ll go home, and you can tell me what the hell happened.”
She nods and reaches for her phone.
“I still have to figure out what to do with my truck. The moment I roll into a body shop with bullet holes all over it, the entire city will be calling the tip line.”
“Well,” she says, pressing another kiss to my knuckles, “it’s a good thing your girl has her own garage and happens to be pretty damn good at bodywork and making problems disappear.”
Your girl.
After everything that happened tonight, hearing her call herself that shouldn’t affect me as much as it does, but fuck, it does.
My girl.