Chapter 13 - The Ambush
The cold night air hit my face as we stepped out of the hotel. I felt invincible. But cornered rats are the most dangerous, and Julian was nothing if not desperate.
Our armored SUV was waiting at the curb. Luca helped me inside, sliding in right behind me. The doors locked automatically.
“You were magnificent,” Luca murmured, pulling me into his side as the SUV pulled away from the curb.
Before I could answer, a massive jolt rocked the vehicle.
Tires screeched. Metal crumpled. I was thrown violently against my seatbelt as a heavy, unmarked delivery truck rammed directly into the side of our transport.
“Ambush!” our driver yelled, pulling his weapon.
“Get down!” Luca roared, throwing his body over mine, shielding me entirely with his mass.
The shatterproof glass cracked into spiderwebs under the sudden hail of automatic gunfire from outside. Julian’s men had retaliated. It was a suicide mission, born of pure desperation.
Luca drew his weapon from his shoulder holster. “Drive through them! Do not stop!”
The SUV’s engine roared, the driver flooring the accelerator and pushing the wrecked truck out of the way. Bullets ricocheted off the reinforced steel doors. Luca kept one arm wrapped tightly around my head, pressing me into the leather seats.
Suddenly, Luca grunted—a sharp, sudden hiss of pain escaping his teeth as a high-caliber round finally pierced the weakened glass and grazed his shoulder.
“Luca!” I screamed, seeing the dark stain spreading rapidly across his white tuxedo shirt.
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“I’m fine,” he growled, though his jaw was clenched in agony. He fired two shots back through the shattered window. “Get us to the safehouse!”
The SUV broke free of the blockade, tearing down the dark Boston streets. I clung to Luca, my hands pressing hard against his bleeding shoulder, the metallic scent of blood filling the cabin.
