Page 92 of Made of Steele
Airbags deployed. Slapping his face.
His vehicle rocked to a stop, but the ground kept shifting.
He’d experienced earthquakes before but not this strong. Still, the tree had likely been damaged or sick if it was so easily uprooted.
The rolling stopped as fast as it started. The ground felt solid beneath him again.
He’d never experienced such a helpless feeling. The whole world below him moving. No way to stop it. Threatening to swallow him.
Teagan.Was she okay? He had to get to her.
He dragged in a breath. Another. Mentally assessing any injuries.
His chest hurt. Face hurt. From the airbag. But he was good to go.
He punched down the fabric and released his seatbelt to stumble out and evaluate the damage to his car. Front end smashed. Bumper dangling.
So what? Did the condition of his car even matter?
No way he was getting around this tree. If Teagan was in danger, she would have to get out of it without him.
Teagan stumbled to her feet, the earth still moving.
Jabal was faster. He had his gun on her. “Don’t move or I shoot.”
The shaking stopped. She took a breath. Another one. Assessed.
Didn’t see Vito.Good.At least he’d gotten free.
“Why are you here?” Jabal asked, his English perfect and barely a hint of an accent.
She wanted to unload on him but decided to take a calm approach. Maybe he wouldn’t shoot her unless provoked. “To stop you from killing another person.”
“I have not—”
“Save it,” she said. “We found the bodies and your connection to them. All we don’t know is why you are doing it and why this way.”
“I don’t have to explain my actions to you.” He lifted his chin, a haughty expression on his face. “What’s the point anyway? You aren’t going to live beyond the night.”
“Just humor me.” She tried to remain calm, but her mouth had gone paper dry. “Did you kill Smiley or only the other three?”
“Smiley was my first.” A sick smile slid over his face, and his eyes glazed in a dark stare.
She searched the area for a way to get free but there was no escaping a speeding bullet. She had to keep the man talking until backup arrived. “I understand you wanting to kill Smiley. He must’ve been threatening your business. But what about the others?”
“We lost.”
“What?” She eyed him.
“My football team,” he said, simply naming his soccer team as if that was a good answer. “We lost the night I met these men. Big losses. Important matches. They’d each won a promotion to dine with me and go to the games with me. I blame them for the losses. They had to see what it felt like to lose too.”
Unbelievable.She blinked at him. “But it was just a soccer match. You made them play with their lives.”
“Footballismy life!” His pointed gaze burrowed into her. “It was taken from me by a stupid injury. I did not want to retire. There is no high like playing. Winning. Defeating others.” A mean look narrowed his eyes. “Well, this is a very similar high. Maybe better.”
A piece to help complete their puzzle, but it still didn’t explain everything. “You were right there with these men. Why wait to come all the way to the United States to kill them?”
“I have such a nice place to dispose of their bodies and no one caught on.”
