Page 88 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
I let go of the wheel, and her eyes widen.
She grabs it, shouting, “You asinine jerk!”
I laugh, my head turned away from her as I dig through my go bag and say, “Careful. Your Wilton is showing.”
Surveying my options, I grab a knife, my colt and an EMP gun from the bag before swiveling back to the front seat with my goods.
Minka’s eyes widen as she takes in my selection. “Oh, my God. You’re crazy. You almost killed us for that?! What are those for?”
“I didn’t almost kill us. You’re a natural driver.”
“You weren’t even watching me drive!”
“We’re alive, right?”
“Unbelievable. And this date was going so well.”
It was. It still is. I was going to drop her off at the door to the safe house, like I’m pretending to drop her off at her parents’ house; give her a kiss that would blow her mind; and then, jokingly sneak in a minute later.
But now she’s about to watch me kick some ass, and isn’t that better?
I take the wheel from her and drive past the alleyway to our safe house.
“Are we going somewhere?” Her eyes light up when she notices that we passed our place, and I’m tempted to take her someplace else, to make this night last as long as it can. “Gun range?”
“Someone’s following us.”
Her eyes widen, and she stares at my weapons again before relaxing in her seat, a resigned sigh escaping into the air.
I hand her the EMP gun, even though I’d love the opportunity to use it for the first time. “Want to shoot it?”
“I’ve never shot a gun before. My aim probably sucks.”
“It doesn’t shoot bullets. It shoots an electromagnetic pulse, so your aim doesn’t have to be too good. Just shoot in the direction of the car when I tell you to.”
A sly grin spreads across her face, and holy shit, I think I’m in love with this woman. Okay, maybe not, but I could be. I can see this going there, and I’m eager for every little moment that she surprises me. Like right now, when there’s excitement in her eyes when there probably should be alarm.
“Hold onto the Oh Shit! handle,” I warn, before slamming on the breaks and using the momentum to swivel the car one hundred and eighty degrees, so I’m now facing the car that was following us.
I take in the widened eyes of the driver, his mouth slightly agape as he quickly presses on the breaks of his car, and it halts with a sudden jerk. His face says it all—he’s in way over his head. But I’ve never been one to have mercy. This guy decided to come after me while I’m with Minka. With that thought in mind, I rev my engine, and the other car begins to reverse. I follow it at an increasing speed. Beside me, Minka’s face is flush with adrenaline, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me.
“Can I shoot it?” she asks.
Her burgundy hair is blowing wildly in the wind, her flushed face is a rosy pink, and the EMP is delicately nestled between both hands, and she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
I bite back a grin and say, “Almost.”
I turn my wheel a little to the right and pick up speed, so my front left bumper is next to his front left bumper, and then I start to turn the car in his direction. He adjusts his wheels, shifting the direction of his car, so I don’t bump into it. When he realizes where I’m leading him, he tr
ies to turn another way, but it’s too late.
I’ve back him into the dead end alleyway adjacent to our safe house. He revs his engine, a threat that he’ll ram us down, but I call bullshit.
Just in case, I tell Minka, “You can shoot it now.”
She sticks the EMP gun out of the window, the size of it a little too big for her, and I watch her struggle to balance it with a slight grin on my face. A few seconds after she pulls the trigger, the other car’s engine starts to die.
“How are you not upset about this?” she asks, her eyes eagerly devouring the scene before us.
