Page 84 of Betraying Family Vows

Metal shrieks.

My head snaps back against the seat, pain flashing white behind my eyes.

Everything slows.

I have time to see Athena's hair whip across her face.

Then everything flips.

Once.

Twice.

The world slams back, hard enough to knock the breath out of me. We're spinning, everything blurring into streaks of color. Athena's screams mix with the howl of twisting metal. My head cracks against the side window, warm wetness immediately trickling down my temple.

When we finally stop, the car is laying on its side, my window against the ground. Athena hangs above me, suspended by her seatbelt. Her arm dangles limp, fingers brushing the roof, which is now more of a wall.

"Athena," I say, my voice barely making it past my lips.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, letting my body drop the few inches to what used to be the driver's side window. Glass crunches under my shoulder as I shift, reaching up.

I reach for her, fingers brushing her cheek. "Athena. Athena, look at me."

She doesn't move, but I see her chest rising and falling. Relief floods through me, so powerful it makes my hands shake.

"My Alepoudítsa, open your eyes."

Her eyes flutter open and terror fills her gaze.

"Dimitri," she says, voice raw. "What happened?"

Doors slam outside.

The sound cuts through the hissing of the engine, the ringing in my ears. My head snaps toward the shattered windshield. Through the maze of fractured glass, I see movement.

Dark figures approaching, guns out.

Son of a bitch.

I fumble for my gun, but it's trapped beneath me, pinned between my body and what used to be the window. I twist, jamming my hand between the seat and my hip, feeling the cold grip of the gun.

I yank the gun free, ignoring the slice of glass against my hand. Blood makes my grip slippery.

"Get the girl," a voice commands. "He wants her alive. Move!"

Two men in dark clothes rush the passenger side, and one of them aims at Athena.

I don't hesitate. I fire through the cracked windshield, one shot, then another.

The first one catches the shooter in the thigh. He stumbles, rifle falling from his grip. The second shot tears through his shoulder, spinning him around. He drops, screaming into the dirt.

The second returns fire. Bullets ping off metal. Athena flinches, covering her head with her arms.

I line up another shot, but before I can squeeze the trigger, more shadows swarm, three, four, maybe more. They pour out of the delivery truck, converging on our wrecked car like wolves on wounded prey.

They fire into the car and shift out of the way.

I look up at Athena as hands reach in for her. She's struggling with her seatbelt, trying to get away.