Page 60 of Scarred Angel

I yank the wheel, hard right toward the warehouse as the world snaps back into focus and the first bullet cracks through the windshield. I stomp on the gas and gun it for the garage door, all hope and speed and steel, trying to punch through for cover.

“Brace yourself.”

The impact whips us forward, but I don’t take my foot off the accelerator until we slam through another wall and the van stalls. Drywall and dust cloud the cabin, filtering in through the shattered windshield.

“Silas, you good?” I cough, spitting grit from my mouth.

He groans, yanking off his seatbelt and clearing his throat. “Yeah. Let’s get the fuck out of here before they pin us again.”

I’m already clawing at the broken glass, widening a gap big enough to crawl through. Shards bite into my palms as I climb out onto the hood, then drop to the ground. Silas follows close behind. The hallway we land in is almost pitch-black, lit only by a flickering floodlight in the corner.

“Watch the exits.” I check my mag. “They’ll be waiting.”

“What the hell happened back there?”

“A setup,” I say through clenched teeth, chambering a round. “That wasn’t an impulse decision. That was an ambush.”

“Your guy?”

“Either way, he’s dead.”

Silas nods grimly. “They’re probably inside by now. It’s too quiet. We need cover. I sent Leni and Santino our location.”

I whirl around. “You involved Mom? Why?”

He scoffs. “Because if there’s anyone I trust to save my ass, it’s her. And if I died without telling her first, she’d resurrect me just to kill me again.”

Despite everything, a short laugh escapes me. He’s right. Losing him…losing us both, would destroy her.

And maybe that’s part of why this feels different now. Because for once, I’ve got something to lose.

Valentina.

I told her I’d drop by. But I can’t call her now. Not yet. Worrying her won’t help.

Without warning, a man rounds the corner a half-second before we do. He freezes, almost as stunned as we are, but hesitates long enough. A bullet would be loud as a fucking bullhorn in here, so I don’t give him the courtesy. I drive my blade into his abdomen and twist. He crumples, clutching at the wound, and trying to crawl away. I grab a handful of his hair and yank him upright.

“Who set this up?” I demand.

“I-I don’t know,” he sputters, blood foaming at the corner of his mouth. “Please, I?—”

I don’t wait. The knife finds the base of his skull, severs what needs severing, and he goes slack, body thudding to the concrete. I shrug. “I asked nicely.”

Silas gives a short, amused nod.

We move on, deeper into the compound, boots echoing on cold concrete until we hit a metal door that leads down into a musty cellar. A rusted grate sits in the center of the floor. I yank twice, the bars groaning before they give, then drop in without hesitating. Silas hangs back a second, watching the dark below.

“You waiting to get shot in the back or something?”

“No. This just brings back some not-so-pleasant memories.” He lets out a sigh then pulls the grate aside and swings down after me.

Twenty-Four

VALENTINA

“Valentina, I’m going to kill you.”

I laugh and prop the phone on the glass counter, crouching to straighten the pistol display while Remi rants. I let her get it all out, knowing damn well I’m not listening. Just like I know she wouldn’t either. One of my employees got sick mid-shift, and with Remi busy, there was no way I was leaving Callahan and Trent to close the range on their own. Sloane’s might be a small establishment, but we stay pretty busy. Down one leg or not, the world keeps spinning.