Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
I glance at the road ahead and notice the small tree growing off by itself. My mind races as I try to make a decision.
Fucking hell. Nina is going to kill me.
"We're hitting that tree," I growl at Nate, explaining as quickly as I can. "I need you to stay in your seat and brace for impact."
He glances at me with wide eyes.
"It'll be okay," I promise, praying like hell it's one I can keep. But it's either hit the goddamn tree or risk this motherfucker causing an accident I can't control, potentially one that kills us or an innocent passerby.
"Do it," Nate growls, reaching for the handle over the door to brace himself.
I let off the gas and pump the brakes, steering away from the car.
The tree rushes up to meet us far faster than I anticipated.
We slam into it, metal shrieking and glass shattering.
Chapter Twelve
Emmett
"Fuck," I groan, my ears ringing. Blood rushes in a torrent of sound, my heart thundering in my chest. I turn my head, shoving the airbag away to check on Nate. "Nate, you okay, man?"
"Son of a bitch," he mutters beside me, looking dazed. "That hurt like a motherfucker."
I chuckle and then groan. Christ, it hurts to laugh. "Are you injured?"
"I don't think so?"
"Take stock," I order. "Does anything hurt?"
"Everything fucking hurts." He groans, searching for his seatbelt clasp. "But no, I'm not injured. Just sore, I think. Remind me to never do what you just did."
"Hopefully, you'll never need to do it." I glance around, searching for the car. I find it parked on the road a few yards away. "Did you get 911 on the line?"
"Yeah. They're sending someone."
"Good because we have company." I nod at the vehicle. "I need you to get out and hide in the woods."
"I'm not leaving you here."
"Yeah, you are. They aren't coming for me. They're coming for you," I remind him. "Your sister needs you to survive this."
"She needs you to survive it, too."
"I fully intend to survive it," I mutter, my eyes still locked on the car, searching for movement. "But I can't do what I need to do with you in this truck."
He's quiet for a minute and then, "Oh."
The driver's door opens on the car.
"Go," I growl at Nate. "Hurry. Stay low to the ground and move carefully so they don't see or hear you."
He hesitates for a split second and then reluctantly shoulders his door open, groaning softly. I don't look in his direction. I keep my eyes locked on the two men climbing from the car. Fuck. It'd be better if there was only one of them. But whatever. I'll do what I've got to do to protect Nina's brother.
I unlatch my seatbelt, moving slowly as I reach under my seat, feeling for the first aid kit I keep stored there. A motherfucker likes to be prepared, and in my line of work, there is no putting blinders on and pretending not to see an emergency situation. My truck is full of equipment.
My fingers close around the handle. I quickly pull it into my lap, keeping it below window level, ready to swing. And then I lean back…and wait.
Alexei and Sergei creep toward the truck, whispering back and forth. One of them circles around to the passenger side while the other strides right up to the driver's side window. I keep my eyes at half-mast and hold my breath, keeping my body lax.
He pauses for a moment, staring in at me.
"I think he's dead, Alexei."
So, this one is Sergei then.
"Check," Alexei orders.
Sergei reluctantly reaches through the broken window.
I grab his arm with one hand, yanking him forward into the truck, and swing the medical kit with the other. It cracks him across the forehead, cutting off his startled shout.
He goes limp, landing halfway across my lap, halfway across the door.
"Shit!" Alexei growls, diving into the truck from the passenger side.
I swing the medical kit again, cracking it against his wrist as hard as I can. He roars a curse, losing his grip on the gun in his hand.
"You motherfucker," I growl, struggling to grab ahold of him with his buddy still half on top of me.
He fights back, trying to get his hands around my throat.
I manage to elbow him in the face, grunting in satisfaction when I feel his nose break.
"I should fucking kill you," I snarl, shoving his buddy into him. "She doesn't owe you a goddamn thing."
"Then Vincent shouldn't have gambled what he could not pay," he grunts, lunging for my throat again. "We gave her ample opportunity to repay the debt."
"A month isn't ample opportunity." I clock him across the jaw. "Burning down a house with her inside isn't ample opportunity."
"The boy will pay with her out of the way."
So I was right about that. The prick wants her gone so they can force Nate to pay. Well, fuck that. They aren't getting a dime. And they aren't getting their hands on her or Nate.