Page 139 of Scarred Angel

She pulls up beside the dark Porsche, and fires through her passenger side, shattering the glass. But doesn't let up until she has to. Valentina jerks the Supra hard, barely missing a delivery truck that’s blocking part of the lane.

My heart is in my fucking throat.

Traffic slows as drivers slam their brakes, chaos spreading through the street. But I don’t stop. I shove my way through, clip a sedan, send a minivan into the side rail, then hit the gas and break away.

Just a few more feet.

Out of nowhere, a second Porsche tears past me, sliding through an opening before I can. It pulls up alongside Valentina’s driver’s side window and, without warning, begins to fire. Relentless rounds tear through her doors and shatter her windows, making the Supra jerk under the assault.

I frantically punch the screen, calling her again. “Come on, come on, answer?—”

She picks up on the third ring and blurts out, “I’m fine.” But I catch the shake in her voice.

“The hell you are,” I snap, as I cut around a stalled truck. “Are you hit? Did he get you? Are you bleeding?” My questions come quick and desperate.

“No, I'm good. I promise.”

I grind my teeth, foot on the gas, almost closing the gap. “Valentina, I swear to God.” I watch her like a hawk, scanning for any wobble or any sign she’s lying.

But she threads through the congestion as clean and smooth as ever. And I let out a rough breath of relief. “When I get my hands on you, I’m going to redden that fucking ass. Just wait.”

Her laugh is frail, hollow.

“I can’t wait.”

The first car suddenly peels off and slams a U-turn, ripping past me the wrong way into traffic before disappearing onto an exit ramp. But the second one keeps pushing, closing in, engine snarling as it fights to stay on her flank.

“You do what you do best, baby. I’m going to get them off you.”

With an elbow on the wheel, I eject my mag and slam in a new one.

“Maksim, I’m sorry. Remi was?—”

“I know. Just try to shake them. I’m coming.”

Silence fills the line, just the sound of her breathing. But it’s all I need for now. Soon this will all be over. She'll be home with me, in my bed and arms, where she belongs.

And safe.

Valentina brakes suddenly when a white SUV cuts her off, forcing her to drift beneath an eighteen-wheeler. The Supra sings as she keeps it steady, holding her speed before sliding out clean on the other side.

My whole body clenches.

Fuck.

“Did you see that?” she asks, breathless, almost as shocked as I am.

“Woman, you have no idea how fucking sexy you look when you drive like a goddamn maniac.”

Her laugh breaks something open inside of me, and every feeling I’ve ever tried to bury shoves its way to the surface.

I love her.

I fucking love her.

And she needs to know it.

“Valentina—”