Liam shoves me into the passenger seat, straps on the seat belt, then slams the door shut. With wide eyes, I watch as he runs around the front of the car.
He slides behind the steering wheel, then tires squeal as we race away from my apartment building. I quickly shove the box down by my feet. It contains all my memories of Dad. I couldn’t just leave it in the apartment.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Declan and the other guards follow close behind us in their SUV. Waylon’s checking the clip of his gun.
“What’s going on?” I ask, confusion lacing my words.
Something slams into the car, and I let out a startled shriek.
“It was a fucking trap,” Liam bites out between clenched teeth. “I fucking should’ve known. Fuck!” He slams a hand against the steering wheel.
I’ve never seen him so angry and cringe into the seat.
I put his life in danger.
The realization rips through the trauma and grief that sent me into a spiral, just wanting to get the box. I only left it behind because I thought I was staying at Liam’s place for a couple of days.
Shit, this is my fault.
Bullets spray the side of the SUV. I scream, then Liam’s hand is on the back of my head, and I’m shoved forward, until my face presses against my knees.
“Stay down, baby,” he orders, all the gentleness gone from his voice and replaced with absolute brutality.
What have I done?
More bullets hit the car, and the windows shatter, raining glass down on my back. “Liam,” I cry, turning my face so I can see if he’s okay.
He shoves his arm out the window, then gunshots vibrate through the SUV as he fires shots at our attackers.
Dear God. It sounds like I’m in a war zone.
“Fuckers,” Liam growls, then yanking the steering wheel hard to the right, we skid as he takes the corner like a freaking experienced racecar driver.
Holy shit.
This is really happening.
“Almost there,” he mutters. “Come on, fuckers, keep following us.”
My eyes go to his face, and seeing the brutal smile curving his mouth, my lips part.
This isn’t the Liam I’ve fallen in love with.
This man is the head of the mafia.
The realization finally sinks in.
This is what Dad was protecting me from.
Liam takes another sharp corner, his body not even shifting in the seat, while I’m thrown against the door.
“Brace yourself,” Liam growls.
Something hits the SUV, the sound of metal bending and scraping. I grab hold of the dashboard as our vehicle shoots forward, then we’re spinning in a full circle.
Liam’s arm is out the window, firing one shot after the other, then we’re speeding again.
He shoves his gun at me. “There are clips in the compartment. Put in a new one.”
I take the weapon from him, not knowing what to do. Pulling a full clip from the compartment in front of me, I ask, “What do I do?”
Liam reaches over, presses something on the gun, the empty clip popping out. “Shove the other one in,” he orders.
I do as he says, then the gun is ripped from my hand.
Shit.
In absolute shock, I stare at the empty clip on my lap.
“Get ready,” he shouts, then the SUV swerves sharply, and we come to a sudden stop.
“Get out and fucking run toward the exit at the back,” Liam orders sharply as he throws his door open. “Get out of here, Kiara!”
With trembling hands, I shove my own door open and almost fall out of the SUV.
My eyes dart around the warehouse, and I watch as men run to help Liam. Three black sedans come to a stop right by the entrance.
Waylon grabs my arm, then I’m dragged in the opposite direction of the fight.
Heavy gunfire echoes through the warehouse. Waylon grabs hold of my head, and I’m forced to run with it pressed to his chest as he covers me.
“Go! Go! Go!” Declan shouts, then his arms sweep me from my feet.
Waylon stops running with us, and from over Declan’s shoulder, I watch as Waylon draws his gun, shouting, “Get her out of here. I’ll keep them back.”
God Almighty.
My eyes flit over the men by the SUVs, searching for Liam. I can’t find him, which makes raw panic and fear explode in my chest.
“Liam!” I scream. “Stop, Declan!”
“Not a chance, princess,” he growls.
I begin to struggle and manage to free my body from his arms. I fall to the ground, shoot up to my feet, then dart around Declan. I run back toward the fight, screaming, “Liam!” Frantically, I search for him while men fire at each other and bodies drop to the ground.
Death and destruction bleed before me like something from a horror movie.
Declan grabs hold of me, my body goes airborne again, and I’m thrown over his shoulder. I try to keep my eyes on the war by the front entrance, but it disappears as Declan darts out the exit.
I’m tossed backward, my feet hitting the ground hard, then I’m running as Declan pulls me into a maze of scrap metal.
He leads me deeper into the maze, then shoves me to the ground behind a large stack of crushed cars. “Stay down,” he breathes.
Holding his gun ready for action, he stands in front of me, peeking around the metal.
Gravel digs into my palms, my breaths burning up my throat.
Liam.
My eyes fall shut, and all I see are images of bodies and blood. All I hear is gunfire.
Liam.
Intense guilt rips my heart clean from my chest.
It’s my fault.
I didn’t know it would be a trap. I just wanted the box of memories.
Still, it’s my fault, so many men are dying tonight.
