Page 93 of Scarred Angel

“That goddamn son of a bitch!” I slam my fist into the wheel until my knuckles split, chest heaving with rage and humiliation. “This isn’t happening.”

I swallow the taste of blood in my mouth and punch the wheel one more time for good measure. Pain radiates up my arm, but I’m too pissed to care. And maybe, in some way, it serves as punishment for letting my guard down.

But this isn’t over.

Thirty-Seven

MAKSIM

“Why isn’t she picking up the goddamn phone?”

I’m one second from hurling the thing into the pavement when another call cuts straight to voicemail. That bastard Balterra crossed the finish line five minutes ago, and still no Valentina. Losing the race is the least of my worries. I need to know she isn’t bleeding out somewhere on the side of the road.

My jaw locks, breath burning tight in my chest.

“Remi, give me your fucking keys.”

“Maksim, wait.” She grabs my arm, eyes glued to her screen. “I’ve got her location. She’s moving. Almost here.”

I rush toward her with Remi on my heels, but when the door swings open, I almost don’t recognize the woman who steps out. Valentina is stone-faced, jaw tight, eyes locked somewhere beyond me as if I don’t exist.

Every instinct in me screams to intercept, to grab her, to make sure my girl is whole. But the scowl carved into her face and the sheer force in her stride tell me she doesn’t need saving.

She’s out for blood.

Remi moves in, but Valentina slips past her without breaking pace, cutting straight through the small crowd around Balterra. She shoves her way to the front.

“Dominic!”

He turns just in time to catch her right hook, then a quick left that snaps his head back before he can recover. The crowd erupts with gasps and hollers, widening the circle.

“You absolute bastard. You pit me, ran me off the road.”

He’s dead.

Remi and I push into the fray, but Valentina throws out an arm, holding us back without even looking, her attention locked on the bleeding man in front of her. My fingers twitch, curling into fists at my sides, every nerve in me demanding I step in and end this. But I force myself to stop. She’s claiming her vengeance, and I’ll be damned if I strip it from her.

I’ll wait.

“What the fuck, Cain?” he roars, spitting blood onto the pavement. “I didn’t do shit but smoke you.”

“You’re a goddamn liar.”

He dares a step closer, and I rush forward, ready to tear him apart.

“You’re just mad I own that sweet ride now.”

My vision tunnels red. It would take nothing to end him right here. But before I make that choice, I glance at Remi. Like Valentina, her eyes are on Balterra and his crew, a darkness burning there I’ve never seen before.

“You own nothing,” she says.

“Rules are rules, Cain.”

“Fuck you, you cheating sack of shit.”

He spits again and motions to two of his men. My hand goes straight for my knife, but the nearly simultaneousclicksof chambered rounds stop me cold. Valentina and Remi already have their guns drawn, steady, and aimed center mass.

The crowd recoils, voices dropping into whispers. Despite the danger of the moment, pride surges in me at the sight of her.