Serena forced air into her lungs. “You’re going to regret this. All of it.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. This time tomorrow, I’ll be on a beach in the Cayman Islands. You three will be the furthest thing from my mind.”
Ian’s laugh fell into harmony with Angelo’s. Sweat from Dani’s palm moistened her fingers. She took a steady breath and summoned whatever calm she could. Her laugh started out light, and then she let her shoulders shake.
Dani stiffened and Ian snarled. “What the hell are you laughing at?”
She laughed harder, until tears mingled with her lashes. Angelo swiveled in his seat. Curiosity furrowed his brow. “Tell us what’s so funny.”
“You,” she said. “You’re doing all this to spite Sebastian, when he got the last laugh after all.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The d-diamonds.”
A cloak of ice fell over the inside of the vehicle.
“What about the diamonds?” Angelo’s low hiss sent a shockwave of fear through her limbs. But she couldn’t give up her plan now. She stopped laughing and mopped up the tears that had collected beneath her lower lids.
“Didn’t you open the bag? He took them. When we left Titus’s mansion, Sebastian and his men trapped us and stole the diamonds. I even told him they were for Dani’s ransom—he still made off with them knowing we would have no way to get her back.”
Angelo spun to face her, and the vehicle swerved. “You’re lying!” he lurched for her, and the movement of the vehicle pitched her backward out of his grasp.
“Boss!”
Angelo returned his hands to the wheel.
She smiled and met Ian’s hard stare, then focused on Angelo’s face in the rearview mirror. “He highjacked our heist and made off with your diamonds. The bag we gave you is full of pebbles.”
Angelo reached to the passenger side next to him and produced the velvet satchel. The stones clanked together as he dumped them on the seat. “Goddamn it!” Angelo’s scream shook the vehicle. Numbness crept into Serena’s feet, either from her awkward position on the floor or from terror. There was no taking it back.
She had just sealed their fate.
CHAPTER 18
Milo gripped the door handle and vomit hit the back of his throat. Jesus Christ, he hadn’t puked since he was nineteen and he sure as hell wasn’t going to now. He swallowed back the acidic tinge of bile and watched the SUV in front of them swerve back onto the road.
Something had happened.
If Serena had tried something on her attackers, he’d throttle her. It was unlikely they’d shoot her while driving and have evidence splashed all over the interior of their vehicle, but it wasn’t a chance he wanted her to take. She still had the gun—maybe she’d shot them? No. The SUV would have crashed for sure. Milo rubbed his palms on his jeans. Moments before they’d gotten out to meet the kidnappers, he’d been so close to throwing caution to the wind. To ripping his heart open to Serena.
He’d almost told her.
The words had been on his lips. And now he’d never get the chance to say them, to tell her how sorry he was, to tell her that he couldn’t live without her.
“We’re getting close to the interstate. I don’t think Rhett and the cops will make it in time.” The words drifted from Milo’s lips, distant and haggard, as his brain cells fired toward another plan.
“What can we do?” Peyton had been silent until now. Milo didn’t turn to look at her. He feared the SUV would disappear into thin air if he took his eyes off of it. Indecision raged inside him. If they shot out the SUV’s tires, the vehicle would flip—and he’d bet his last bullet that neither Serena nor Dani was wearing her seatbelt. But they couldn’t do nothing. If they didn’t stop them soon, they’d lose the SUV in the city’s tangled streets. The cops would look for the vehicle, but odds were the kidnappers would have Serena and Dani killed before the cops found them.
“Milo,” Brock said, bringing him back to the moment. “I need you to call it. What do you want to do?”
Milo exhaled from his nose. Fuck it. “Get close. I’ll shoot out a tire.”
“No!” Peyton shot forward and gripped the sleeve of his jacket. “They could die.”
He grabbed her wrist, flicking off her hand. He’d made up his mind and for fuck’s sake he didn’t like the decision any more than Peyton did. “Do you have a better idea? Speak up now.”
Her lips snapped shut and her eyes lowered.
Milo nodded at Brock, and he pressed his foot harder on the gas. Milo checked the clip of his Beretta. Satisfied with the number of bullets he had, he rolled down the window and released his seatbelt. He dug his elbow into the frame of the window and hefted his head and shoulders out of the vehicle. Peyton moaned. Milo focused his gaze on the red taillights ahead of him. The wind whipped over his hair and rustled in his ears. He squinted one eye and steadied his hold, but his finger shook on the trigger. The SUV approached a bend and Milo muttered a curse as the truck shifted, throwing off his shot.
“Keep it steady,” he barked.
“Sorry.”
Milo repositioned himself and aimed at the rear tire. He pushed a mouthful of saliva down his throat, but his tongue was as rough as sandpaper. If he killed Serena, he’d never forgive himself.
Please, God . . .
“Shoot!” Brock yelled.
Milo pulled the trigger.
* * *
Crack!
Serena yelped and grabbed Dani, pulling her so she bent at the waist, her head below the windows. She ached to see inside the vehicle behind them to determine if Milo was in it.
“Sonofabitch,” Angelo growled. “Shoot back!”
Ian rolled down the window and pulled out a gun. No! She couldn’t let them get shot at. On this road, they could easily go over the side of the hill. Now that they were so close to the city, it wasn’t nearly as dangerous, but they could still be badly hurt. Irritation fizzled through her. If Milo had survived, she’d have a few words with him about shooting at the SUV while she was in it. If they all survived.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Tires screeched, but no sound of collision followed. Serena swallowed and worked her hand to the knife at her waist. Her sister’s upper body blocked Angelo’s and Ian’s view of her. Dani’s shoulders tightened, and she shook her head sharply. “No,” she whispered.
Serena clenched her muscles and unsheathed the knife. Dani must have figured out what she was planning to do, because she grabbed her shoulder. She pushed at Dani’s hand. “I have to.”
She sighed and coiled backward, allowing Serena room.
“Did you get him?” Angelo asked.
“No. I hit the windshield, though. They’ll have a hell of a time trying to see.”
“Get their fucking tires, Ian.”
“I’m on it.” He situated himself at the window again. From what Serena had heard, Milo hadn’t returned fire, which only made panic boil over in her chest.
She shifted her feet under her and zeroed in on her target. As she sprang forward, a cry screeched from her lips, and she brought her arm down on Ian’s back. The knife ate through his thick sweater and resisted as it cut through flesh and stopped at something hard—bone. His back buckled, and his arms gave out on top of the open window. The clank of metal dancing across pavement reached her ears. His gun.
A deep-rooted wail sounded on the wind and ricocheted through the vehicle. He reached behind him and grabbed Serena’s sleeve. Angelo’s hand stretched for her too, and the SUV jerked to the side, tossing her around the back seat. All the moisture left her mouth, and her blood pumped through her veins with the speed of a freight train. Ian still half-hung out the window, but his grip on her arm tightened. If he was able to dislodge the knife, he’d turn it on her. She wouldn’t be able to stop him and had nowhere to run.
The SUV sideswiped the rock escarpment. Momentum tossed Serena into Dani’s lap. Her sister’s hands caught her shoulders and
righted her. Angelo stopped grasping for her and snapped the vehicle off the shoulder and onto the road.
Reaching under Ian, she pulled the door handle. The door unhinged and the roar of the wind grew deafening. Ian twisted toward her, rage etched on his features. She tucked in her knees and kicked him in the ass like a kangaroo. The door snapped open and his body flopped onto the road. A sickening crunch and splatter split the night.
“You fucking bitch!” Angelo bellowed over the blustering air. The metal door bounced and swung with each erratic sway of the SUV. Serena hung on to the back of the driver’s seat in a frantic attempt to stay inside the vehicle. Angelo stomped on the brakes. The piercing squeal of tires penetrated her consciousness, and her body flew toward the gap between the driver’s and front passenger’s seats.
Fear, raw and sharp, chomped through her soul. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands as the windshield rushed toward her. A sharp grip pierced her arm, slowing the force that pulled her toward the mouth of glass that would tear through her flesh. Her abdomen connected with the console and the wind left her lungs. The vehicle jerked with a halt, and she fell back into the footwell. The sound of the driver’s door being kicked open reached her ears.
No, no, no.
Angelo would finish them off. She pressed her palms into the rough carpet and lifted her head. Dani stared at her, her face white as a sheet. Her seatbelt was crossed over her chest, and her fingers still clung to Serena’s jacket. Had Dani not been strapped in and hanging on to her, Serena would have gone through the windshield. A shadow filled the open door. Angelo’s chest heaved.
“You fucking killed him!” He snagged a handful of Serena’s hair and dragged her out of the vehicle. Pain burned her follicles as the hairs threatened to rip from their beds.
“Let her go!” Dani’s sob crackled in her eardrum.
She toppled out of the car. Gravel pierced through her pants and into the thin skin of her knees. Tires squealed to a stop—Milo? But he was too late. Angelo would have a bullet in her head before Milo could say a word. Angelo’s brown leather loafers shuffled in front of her face. He yanked her upward, bringing her to a near pirouette in the direct beam of the headlights behind Angelo’s vehicle. She squinted against the glare as the passenger door opened.
Please, god. Let it be Milo.
A hulking shape stomped forward, followed by two others. Hope made room in the tight confines of her lungs and she sucked in a breath. A chortle bubbled from Angelo. Serena watched his lip ripple into a snarl. His eyebrows came down in hard slashes over his dark eyes. Wrinkles cut through his skin, and gray hair smattered his temples. The click of metal chirped in the night.
“Raise your fucking—” Milo came to a dead stop. The headlights cast a shadow over his face, but she could see his dark beard, just longer than stubble, so similar to his father’s, and his stark green eyes, which focused like a laser over her shoulder. The strength in her legs faltered and relief so great it nearly brought her to her knees overtook her. He was alive. Thank god, Milo was alive. Her lips trembled as she watched his formidable stare, murder etched on the planes of his face. A deep need pulled at her heart, calling her to his body, but she couldn’t move.
Angelo cranked her neck back so the crown of her head dug into his sternum. The muscles in her shoulders screamed, but she kept her gaze glued to Milo. Angelo shifted, and cold, hard steel ground against her jaw.
“Don’t take another step.”
Her spine stiffened to a solid rod and her skin puckered with goosebumps. The iron flavor of panic exploded over her taste buds. She inhaled through her nose, but it didn’t slow the firing particles of adrenaline that needed to be released.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she anticipated the bullet’s penetration through her bone.
* * *
“Dad?” The syllable dripped from his lips and landed at his feet with the force of a bomb. He blinked.
To Milo, Angelo had always looked the same. The few times he’d seen him in prison, he hadn’t shown a gradual change in appearance. Now, he was different. A shell of himself. His mouth gaped into a snarl that revealed his teeth. The pearly whites had always struck Milo as odd considering his dad smoked and drank daily. His hairline receded farther back than Milo remembered, and gray had almost overtaken the black. Even his whiskers were more salt and pepper than ebony against his tanned skin. His eyes were the feature Milo had never forgotten. Brown irises hard with contempt yet shadowed with a hint of regret. He could count on one hand how many genuine smiles had touched those glassy lasers. And those smiles had always denoted happiness at someone else’s expense.
Possibilities whirred through his mind, but he couldn’t slow his thoughts to catch one. His dad had Serena . . . and Dani too.
Sonofabitch.
“You did this?” Not lowering his gun, he took a step forward. He’d kill him. Milo flicked his gaze to Serena. Black metal pressed against the alabaster column near her ear. Sweat rolled between his shoulder blades to tickle his spine. Confusion pushed at his consciousness, poking holes in the evidence standing right in front of his face.
“Why?” he hissed. Serena blinked, and the tears collecting at her lashes squeezed the air from his lungs. He wanted to reassure her, to swear Angelo wouldn’t hurt her . . . but he couldn’t.
“Why?” Angelo echoed. “Her uncle stole everything from me. Sebastian had me locked up for ten fucking years!” His raised voice was amplified by the wind and open landscape. “I needed to make a living, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to risk going to prison again.” One of those rare genuine smiles danced on his lips. “The day I got released, I caught a bus. And guess whose pretty face was plastered on the side of it?”
His laugh boomed out, sending pangs through Milo’s heart. His gaze lowered to Serena again, and he battled the emotions that prevented him from pulling the trigger.
“Gotta admit, I never thought she’d get out of the business. Almost didn’t believe my eyes when I saw she’s a realtor.”
“Let her go.”
Angelo ground the weapon deeper into Serena’s flesh, and Milo winced as pain distorted her face. “I’m taking her with me, son, and if you take another step or pull the trigger, she’ll be dead too.” His jaw was set in a firm line, leaving no room for doubt. He’d kill her now without a second thought, but he’d also kill her when she no longer served him.
Angelo inched her backward. Serena’s fingernails clawed into his wrist, and Angelo shook his arm as if trying to rid a mosquito from his skin. Milo’s stomach lurched. He couldn’t let them get back in the car. Cold droplets of sweat rolled over his eyebrows, but he didn’t dare dash them away. He took a step forward.
“Don’t move, Milo!” Angelo swung the weapon away from Serena’s throat and pointed it at Milo. A hard glint fleeted in Serena’s eyes, and an alarm screeched through Milo’s head. She flung her body forward, loosening Angelo’s arm around her in the process. Then she swung her elbow back, catching him in the chin.
Crack!
Angelo’s gun fired.
No!
Serena dropped to the ground and Milo fired. Angelo’s shoulder jerked, and he reeled with the impact of the bullet. His gun sailed to the ground and Milo charged for it. Serena moved from her position on the ground, scooping the gun into her grasp before he reached her. She crab-crawled backward and Milo skidded on the pavement at her side. The asphalt grabbed at the material covering his knees, stinging his kneecaps.
He closed his arms around her waist, cradling her to his chest. He signaled to Brock to move in on Angelo. His father growled and cursed as Brock restrained him.
“Baby, are you all right?” He wrestled her in his arms, turning her to face him. He’d deal with his dad later. Her chin trembled and her shoulders shook.
“Y-Yes.” The steel in her hand jostled, and he placed his hand over the barrel unintentionally pointed at his chest and slapped it on the ground at his side. He cupped her fac
e, taking in the purpling skin from the muzzle of the gun. He compressed his lips. If his dad didn’t die, Milo would dislocate his fucking jaw for bruising her.
She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his throat. A sob squeaked from her lips, and he stroked his fingers through her hair. The floral scent that had become so familiar over the last several days floated over him, and he inhaled.
He’d never let that scent leave his life again.
He’d never leave her again.
CHAPTER 19
Tears streamed down Serena’s cheeks and beaded on Milo’s leather jacket. She peeked open an eye and Angelo’s brooding glare singed her to the spot. He sat on the pavement leaning against his vehicle, his hands tied behind his back. His hair fell in rumpled waves around his face. Blood blossomed on his shoulder, through his light-blue shirt. Brock’s legs blocked her vision as he stepped in front of Angelo.
Sirens sounded in the distance and the chirping of cicadas and crickets echoed in the night. She sucked on another sob and pulled back to look at Milo. His green rings drove into her, as vibrant as fresh-cut emeralds. A ring of forest green etched his irises, and she let her hand slide over the much-too-long stubble dotting the lower half of his face. His brow wrenched into a grimace, and he lowered his forehead to hers.
“I’m so sorry,” he breathed. His mouth lifted to press a kiss between her eyes and then dropped to the now tender spot near her ear and her lips. His heat seeped through her trembling limbs.
“For what? You saved me.”
“No, I didn’t.” His voice turned hard. “If you hadn’t elbowed him in the face, I wouldn’t have gotten a clean shot.”
She smiled. “That was pretty quick of me.”
His deep, throaty laugh pushed away some of the shock that had been closing in around her.
“You’re safe now, babe.”
Brock and Peyton’s voices penetrated the clouds separating Milo and her from the commotion around them, and Dani’s voice floated to her ears. Relief filled Serena, but she had to clear something from her chest before she peeled herself from the cozy, muscular cushion of Milo’s lap.
The Last Heist (Pretty Thieves Book 1) Page 21