The pandemonium spread over the parking lot. Shouts and screams mixed with slamming doors and spinning tires. Fear had a death grip on her throat, severing her voice. She couldn’t get a full breath. Several more gunshots rang out and peppered the ground and vehicles around them, and still she ran with her eyes locked on Irish. Her protector. Her lifeline.
With only one more row separating them and her car, he ordered her to go on ahead, get into the passenger seat, and start the engine. The thought of leaving him behind scared the hell out of her, but the fact that he planned on driving the car said he had no intentions of not catching up. Bolting ahead, she grabbed her keys from her purse and unlocked the passenger door as fast as her shaking hands allowed.
As she yanked it open, she heard more gunshots. Unable to stop herself, she looked back to see Irish running toward her with Sully and Vinnie close behind. He yelled for her to start the car, effectively ending her frozen-in-fear moment. Seconds later, she watched Irish slide across the hood and then fling himself around the drivers’ door she’d opened. Throwing the car into gear, he pushed her head down and took off.
They didn’t speak for several minutes. The only sounds were that of the car and their panting as they both tried to catch their breath. When he finally lifted his hand from her back, she eased herself up and looked over at him. Both hands gripped the wheel tightly, the muscles in his arms twitching from tension. Determination and seething anger warred on his face in the set of his brow and the clenching of his jaw.
She noticed he never once glanced at the rearview or side mirrors, whereas she wanted to turn full around and watch for any tails. He appeared so wrapped up in his thoughts that Kat wondered if he remembered she was there. She was almost afraid to speak, but she had to know what he was thinking.
Glancing at the side mirror, she asked, “How long do you think it’ll be before they catch up with us?”
“I saw their Caddy as we were running, so I shot their tires out. It should give us a good enough head start until we can get rid of everything they can use to find us.”
She rubbed a finger over the bump in her forearm. “Like my tracker,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly. “Like that.”
He grunted as he shifted in his seat. And that’s when she saw the blood.
Chapter Seventeen
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “You’ve been shot.”
Aiden didn’t bother looking at the gash in his side again. The thing stung like a son of a bitch, so he wasn’t likely to forget it was there.
“It’s just a graze, sweetheart.” He slid her a wry grin. “I’ll live.”
“But it’s from a bullet and— Oh my God, you need a doct—”
“Hey,” he said, cupping her chin and holding her gaze between glances back at the road. “Don’t go getting hysterical on me now. It looks worse than it is. I can fix this myself. I’m gonna be just fine, all right?” Kat’s eyes were wide and misty, but she blinked back the tears and nodded. He dropped his hand to her lap and threaded his fingers through hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
“So now what do we do?”
Her voice sounded small and uncertain like she had when this whole thing started. Over the last couple of weeks, when she’d thought the danger was gone, Kat had shed that scared persona and become a vibrant woman who smiled easily and laughed often. And now that woman was gone as though she’d never existed. Just another reason to end every motherfucker who had a hand in threatening her.
“We’re meeting up with Xander to trade cars. He’ll drive yours in the opposite direction and stash it somewhere so they’re thrown off our trail. We’ll hole up in a motel for the night.”
She nodded again and remained silent until they met Xander at a busy truck stop on Highway 10. Xan had followed Aiden’s instructions and stopped at Kat’s to grab her some clothes and Murphy. He didn’t know how long they’d be on the lam until he could figure out how to rectify the situation for good, and the last thing she needed was to worry about the kitten.
Xander got out of his Nova holding Murphy. As soon as she saw his gray fur, she flipped into Mom-mode and scooped him into her arms. While she was busy cooing over the fur ball in the passenger seat, Aiden and Xan moved to the trunk where Aiden’s duffel was stored.
“Holy shite, mate, what the fuck happened to you?”
Aiden unzipped his bag and took out the pair of athletic sandals and the black wifebeater he’d worn to the arena earlier. Reaching into the front of his shorts, he removed the protective cup from the crotch of his compression shorts, essentially turning them into nothing more than boxer briefs, and dropped it into the bag. Then he carefully slipped his feet into the sandals and tried to ignore the stinging from the cuts he’d gotten by running full-speed over gravel.