Page 40 of Mafia Scars

“Shit. Luc messaged. We’re in trouble. Sorry, doll, we have to move.”

He grabbed my hand forgetting about being covert and rushed through the crowds with me.

Before we got to the escalators that would take us to the second floor, two men in suits stepped out from the corner of Bath and Body Works. They screamed trouble.

I didn’t have to ask if they were here for me.

Maurice didn’t let them stop him. Like a giant pit bull, he rammed into the them, knocking them over, and pulled me along. People around us scattered. And more men appeared.

I’d never imagined it happening this way. I’d never imagined this at all.

We ran top speed to the other side of the floor to take the stairs.

“Come on, doll. We have to get to the car.”

“Maurice,” I hissed, seeing four guys waiting for us at the foot of the stairs. The tallest one opened his jacket to show off his gun.

“Come on, girl, listen to me.” He grabbed my shoulders. “Our guys should be here any second. Your goal is to head to Chicago.Chicago. Just get out of here. Don’t stay and be a hero, just run. You hear me? Don’t allow them to take you.”

I nodded. He released my hand and launched me over the side of the stairs.

The notion surprised the men because they thought we were cornered.

I made a run for it, sparing a glance back to Maurice to see him fighting a few of the guys.

Please don’t die.

I hoped he would be okay. I hoped I would be okay.

Shit, a man with dark curly hair just got up from one of the benches. He was looking at me and smiling.

I stopped in my tracks, almost falling over. Something in the confident way this man carried himself told me he was important.

“Run, Amelia, run!” Maurice cried. I heard gunshots, and every cell in my body came alive.

Screams sounded everywhere from the shoppers in the mall scrambling to safety.

Run. I had to run.

Someone grabbed me from behind. A really tall, bulky guy.

I elbowed him trying to free myself, but he was too strong. Way too strong. This guy wasn’t like my standard bad guys. The simpletons I was used to. These guys were muscle, the real deal. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

The guy who held on to me was tall and wide. He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me. I screamed out from the pain.

“Hey, they saidunharmed.I think squeezing her till she pops might kill her,” said the guy who’d gotten up from the bench. “I think I’ll keep the face too and use something else for my ornament.”

He nodded.

“Let go of me,” I cried.

“No, he can’t. We’re under direct orders to bring you in, now.”

“Who are you?”

“The name is Victor Pertrinkov, and I think I’d like your fingers too. To eat. Those would go great with asparagus. Just the tips and a dash of oregano.”

Chapter 9