Page 74 of The Wicked

He looked around before his gaze settled on the Lamborghini a short distance away, and then he looked back at the SUV we were shielding ourselves with. “Okay, I’ll cover you.”

“Wait, wh—”

“On my signal, you’ll open this door and check the glove compartment for weapons.”

“What—” The side mirror shattered beside my head, and I cursed, ducking further down as I whisper-yelled at him. “What if there aren’t any weapons? Got any other smart ideas?”

He grunted, almost as if he couldn’t deal with me, and then in urgency, gave me the gun. “Cover me. I’ll do it.”

“What the fuck—” He was already opening the door as if people weren’t shooting at us. “Crazy motherfucker.” I got in position; the gun was heavy in my grip as I shot back at them, bullets flying blindly in the direction of the boats, and I caught dark figures ducking.

As fast as he had raced to open the door, Elio was back beside me, a gun in his hand, which he quickly checked for bullets before clicking in place.

“How did you know—” A shot wheezed past my ear, and I groaned, swiftly getting back in position to find the fucker who had shot it reloading his gun. I set the angle, targeting the side of his head, before pressing the trigger. His body dropped lifelessly to the ground.

I retook cover, only to find Elio’s eyes on me.

“Some—ahh!” I winced in pain as the comm in my ear sent out a sharp noise that had me rushing to take it out. The device was hot against my hand, and I quickly threw it to the ground, my ear burning. I grazed the spot and brought my shaking fingers to my view, blood staining them. “Motherfucker!”

“We have to get to the car.” Elio’s voice reached me, and I realized he hadn’t been shooting back. “First, we need—”

At the sound of tires screeching, I turned to see a bunch of black SUVs pulling up roughly without formation, men filing out of them like fucking ants. “Are those your people?”

Elio watched the new change, confusion dragging down his brows. “No.”

One of the men stopped by our ride, checking it carefully before stepping back and shooting at the windows and the tires of the Lamborghini, in other words, killing our means of escape.

The shooting doubled now, no longer aimed at us but at the people who were once shooting at us.

“Throw it in!” somebody yelled, followed by an engine revving.

“Oh God,” I muttered as two SUVs came slamming at the Lamborghini, making it shift forward violently. The SUV riders didn’t seem to care about the damage the hit did to their cars because they were now reversing, stepping on the gas and colliding into Elio’s car again; I watched it groan and tumble before falling into the water with a thick splash.

After that, the space between Elio and me went quiet.

I blinked, turning ever so slowly to Elio, who sucked in a deep breath, lips pressed tightly together.

“I am genuinely sorry. I felt that right in my heart. The beauty didn’t deserve to go down like that.”

He swallowed. “That apology should be addressed to Casmiro if we ever see him again.”

“That was his car?” I asked in a wheeze.

“No. That was his baby.”

“Shit.”

Elio moved past me swiftly, showing me his back as he scanned the area. “Our cover is about to be blown.”

I gripped the gun tightly. “What the fuck are we gonna do?”

“We have to be quick.”

I frowned. “What do you mean bywe have to be quick?”

He looked back at me. “We are going to run.”

I searched his eyes for any hint of a joke. There was none. “No, we can’t—”