Page 75 of Unleashed

“I don’t give a fuck what you said,” Anthony bites back.

My chest aches, my stomach in knots. Their voices are fire and gasoline, filling the SUV until I can’t breathe.

“You should thank God she’s in the car with us, Paladino. If she weren’t, you’d be gasping for air through your gaping throat right now.”

“Your threats are starting to bore me, Del Rossa.”

“Stop fighting,” I mutter.

“Just give me one bullet. One fucking bullet.”

“And you’ll what? Graze me this time? You’re not even a good shot. The only thing you’re good at is knocking someone up and disappearing on them.”

“You motherfu?—”

“Stop! Fighting!” My scream slices through the car like a whip. “God, the two of you are acting like such dicks. Molly is gone, and you’re fighting about speed limits? Jesus.”

The silence that drops is deafening.

Isaia’s jaw ticks, knuckles flexing on the wheel. Anthony stares hard out the window, muttering something under his breath that I can’t hear, but I know it’s aimed at Isaia.

I shove my hand into Luna’s fur, gripping tight. “If either of you starts again, I swear to God I’ll throw myself out of this car and walk.”

“We’re almost at the airport,” Isaia says calmly, like they weren’t on the brink of murdering each other two seconds ago.

“I’m not going.”

“Everly, don’t start.” Anthony grabs his phone and types out a text. “We need to get you out of here. End of discussion.”

“No. Not the end of discussion. We never even had a discussion.”

“Yeah. We did,” Anthony snaps. “In your living room.”

“That was before Molly—” My throat closes. “That was before we realized Molly’s been taken.”

Isaia slams the brakes, the SUV coming to a screeching halt. “We are getting on that plane.” His tone is deadly low, glacial eyes snapping to me in the rearview mirror.

“What about Molly?” My eyes sting.

“What about you? What about our child?”

“We have to do something, Isaia. We can’t just leave on a fucking plane and ignore the fact that a friend’s life is in danger.”

“Yourlife is in danger.”

“Why didn’t he take me, then? Huh? Obviously, whoever this psychopath is was in the apartment while I was there.”

“Fuck!” Isaia slams his fists into the steering, then puts the car in drive, swerving back into the street. “You saw the words. It was meant for you.”

“Then why didn’t he take me? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t care what makes sense and what doesn’t,” Isaia barks, his eyes cutting to me in the rearview mirror, black fire blazing. “You think I’m letting you play bait for this freak? Over my dead fucking body.”

“And over mine,” Anthony’s voice slices through.

I laugh, but it’s wild and sharp and broken. “Oh, well, then. I guess that settles it. Two overprotective, arrogant bastards against one pregnant woman. What a fair fight.”

“Everly—”