He cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing at the tears. “I know this feels like it isn’t ever going to end, but I promise you, it will. We’ll sort through it together, Ania. I haven’t shut you out of anything. I’ve been up front about the kind of man I am.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. Not everything feels like love, even when I’m trying to show you the way I’m coming to feel.”
He’d been selfish. There was no question about that. He knew himself; he knew that when the leopard was driving him with his moods, he would be selfish again. “I suppose it didn’t feel like love to you, and I know you need that. The way you gave yourself to me felt like it to me.”
“Don’t get me wrong.” She still didn’t look at him. “I loved it. I love when you’re like that, the things you say are sexy and you feel powerful and all mine. I like taking care of you, but I don’t always feel confident in us.”
He forced her head around, so he could look into her eyes. “You don’t feel confident in us?” he repeated, astonished. He frowned, not letting her look away. “Do you still think I’m with you because of my leopard?”
She shrugged. “No one even looked at me until she went into heat. Suddenly there are men coming around, you one of them, saying how beautiful I am. No one said that before.”
“We didn’t meet before, Ania. That night, when I saw you in the rain, I knew then that you were mine. I knew it. There wasn’t one moment of doubt.” He bent his head to brush a kiss across her lips. “I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you I don’t even know what to do about it. I’m not a poet, baby, and I’m never going to be. I don’t have pretty words. But when I touch you, even when I’m rough, especially when I’m rough, that’s raw and honest. That’s me feeling so intense I’m barely in control. For a man like me to lose control, Ania, it has to be love.”
She tipped her head back, leaning against his shoulder to look into his eyes. He saw her cat close, but he also saw her, those indigo eyes that could melt his heart every time. Her eyes searched his, as if looking for his soul. If that was what she needed to know she was loved by him, he’d find a way to give that to her.
“Let’s go home, baby, and we’ll let the cats have their time. We can talk this out in a private setting.” His hand dropped to the nape of her neck in an effort to ease the tension out of her. “I never want you to feel as if you aren’t loved for you. For me, what I feel is all about you. There isn’t going to be another woman in my life. Not ever. And when I die, I’m going to die knowing I get to be with you in eight more life cycles.”
She sent him a tentative smile. “You might regret that.”
He shook his head. “That’s the one thing I’m absolutely certain of, Ania. I have no doubts. I can see why you’d have them. I can be a selfish lover . . .”
“You can be a generous one as well. I meant what I said, I love the way you were with me. I just don’t always feel confident.”
“You should—”
The car pitched sideways. A shot rang out and then another. Something hit the glass on the driver’s side. The car bounced and swayed sideways, nearly out of control. Mitya caught Ania by her shoulders, thrusting her toward the floor. Already her hands were on the buttons of the shirt, closing it as she turned toward the window to try to see out.
“Stay down,” he hissed. “Sevastyan, lower the screen now.”
In the darkness, they could see the other two cars giving them chase. Flashes lit up the darkness as more bullets spat at them. Spiderwebbing appeared on the windshield and the driver’s side window. An SUV crashed into them, driving them sideways, pitching Ania off the seat. Mitya tried to catch her, but he was pulling up his trousers and missed.
The windshield shattered on the driver’s side and Miron pitched to the side, slumping down in the seat. Sevastyan caught the steering wheel, but the weight of Miron’s foot was on the gas pedal. The car fishtailed out of control, careening off the SUV.
15
ANIA practically leapt over the seat into the front, yelling at Sevastyan to drag Miron from behind the wheel. She was already sliding behind the wounded man, moving so fast Mitya didn’t have a chance to yank her back to him.
“Seat belts,” Ania yelled, her hands on the wheel, the car miraculously and impossibly sliding around the SUV as if they were in some movie scene.
Sevastyan used his leopard’s strength to drag Miron over to the passenger side and away from Ania. She glanced in the rearview mirror, and to both sides, but how she could see anything with the car in a spin and everything happening so fast, Mitya didn’t know. Like Sevastyan, he pulled weapons out of compartments and moved to the driver’s side of the car to cover that side. It wasn’t easy with the car in a spin, but he managed.
“Seat belts,” Ania snapped a second time.
Clearly her mind should be on controlling the vehicle, and not her passengers, but under the circumstances neither man mentioned it.
The car straightened out and shot away from the SUV and the other car pursuing them. Sevastyan had his phone out and was texting his men. “They’re not that far out,” he reported. “Can you handle this, Ania?”
“Don’t insult me,” Ania said. She glanced at Miron. “How bad is it?”
“He’s holding,” Sevastyan replied tersely.
The two cars were trying to sandwich them, coming up on either side. Mitya let off two rounds, hoping to keep the shooter from making a try at Ania. He detested her being exposed like that. The driver’s side window was bulletproof. It shouldn’t have shattered the way it did. Now she was the one the shooters were targeting, wanting to stop their vehicle.
She suddenly hit the brakes, and the moment both cars were a foot in front of her, she spun the heavy town car as if it were small and sporty. Mitya nearly ended up in the front seat with the others. The car flew back down the road, leading away from their residence and back toward the main highway.
Mitya glanced at the speedometer. She was still accelerating, and she showed no signs of letting off the gas. He noted she looked cool, hands steady on the wheel, eyes ahead, while his heart was pounding like a runaway freight train. He detested not being in control. She’d turned the town car into a road rocket. He had no idea one could get those kinds of speed out of it.
As they approached the on-ramp, a long winding curve that spilled out onto the main highway, a large Ram truck shot out of a side road, one unpaved and barely a trail. It should have plowed into the side of them, sending them careening into the boulders and hill on the other side of the road.
Somehow, and Mitya honestly didn’t know how she did it, Ania had spun their car once more, away from the new attack. The breath slammed out of his lungs as he looked back at the truck that had nearly taken them out. It had to stop before its momentum carried it into the very boulders it had planned to send the town car into.
“Fuck!” Mitya yelled at the top of his lungs. “Turn around, Ania. Fucking turn around.”
She didn’t hesitate, and she spun them back, taking them right to the bumper of the truck that had tried to assault them. She stopped like she did everything, fast and efficiently. Mitya didn’t give a damn, he was already out of the car, going up on the driver’s side, Sevastyan matching his long, angry strides on the passenger side. Both fired almost simultaneously, nearly emptying their weapons into the four men in the truck. Mitya went for head shots. He didn’t recognize any of them, and he could have cared less who they were.
Ania laid on the horn, snapping him out of his fury. He glanced up to see two cars speeding toward them. He and Sevastyan ran for their vehicle and dove in as she once more headed for the highway.
“Feel better?” she asked.
Was there amusement in her voice? He met her eyes in the rearview mirror and glared. There was a hint of laughter in them. “Damn it, Ania, you could be killed.
”
“Not likely,” she answered. Sassy.
He didn’t know whether to kiss her or turn her over his knee—if they survived. She shouldn’t be having so much fun. Miron was leaking blood all over the front seat. Sevastyan looked as if he might shoot both of them, and he wanted to kill every single fucker in the two remaining cars. He’d had enough. These men were not Lazar’s. Not one of them he’d just shot. He knew the men from the lairs in his homeland, and none of them were recognizable. He wasn’t even certain they were leopard.
He glanced at the head of his security. “You recognize any of them?”
The car was on the long circular ramp and about to be spit out onto the highway. Again, Ania was accelerating. Mitya found himself clutching at the seat, his teeth clenched as they burst into the lane almost on top of a little van going half their speed. Their town car was pulling away from it before the driver managed to find his horn.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
Ania was speaking to Sevastyan, not him. Mitya didn’t know why that enraged him, but it did. “What I want you to do,” he snapped, “Is lead these bastards right into our trap. Sevastyan, I want at least one of them alive. A couple would be better. Get on the fuckin’ phone and make this happen.” He poured command into his voice.
He’d been born to lead, and right then, he was leading his enemies into a trap. His woman was driving the car, but he had to accept that. He’d have a word or two with Sevastyan once this was over. Clearly, there had been some agreement between the two. “Let them catch up, Ania, but just give them glimpses until we’ve got everything set.”
Ania nodded. “They’re on the highway and threading through traffic.”
“Hopefully we don’t have cops out tonight,” Mitya said. “But if we do, lose them.”
“Of course.” She sounded confident.
It was difficult not to have faith in her when she was so at ease with the high-speed maneuvers she’d pulled off.
Mitya texted one-handed, holding his weapon ready in the other. He needed to warn his cousin Fyodor. Telling him what was happening was imperative. He had to know that the enemy was persistent. Whoever had put together the package for the Anwar family was coming after them. He had no idea who or why, but he was determined that this trap that had been sprung on them was going to be turned around and they would benefit.
“Need a helicopter to transport Miron and a surgical team,” Sevastyan said. “I called for that as well. They’ll be waiting at our drop point. Ania, can you circle around and get us back to the road leading to home?”
“I was born and raised in the hills above San Antonio. I know every exit and every back road. That gives me a little bit of an advantage. It helps that I was taught to drive on these roads by both my grandfather and father. I know places those following don’t have a prayer of knowing. That means yes.”
She wove in and out of traffic, keeping her speed steady as she headed for the exit they needed. She wanted a quick turnaround, off the highway and then right back on.
“The boys will set up just before Bannaconni’s ranch.” Sevastyan sent Ania a quick glance. “Can you get us there before they catch up to us?”
Ania didn’t deign to answer.
Mitya had time to take a breath and let himself admire her. The ride, now that they weren’t spinning madly and being thrown all over the car, was smooth even though they traveled at a high rate of speed and had to make lane changes more than once. Ania was absolutely confident behind the wheel of the car. He was used to driving with Miron, who always clutched the wheel and spent half his time looking in the rearview mirror rather than concentrating on what was ahead of them.
As a bodyguard, Miron was one of the best—as a driver, not so much. He’d volunteered and sincerely tried to improve. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to allow his woman to drive—but he enjoyed their back-seat fucking. He wasn’t about to give that up. He had never looked forward to driving around before; now he made excuses to go out.
“Have you been able to stop Miron’s bleeding?” he asked as he peered out the back window, watching the SUV gain a little ground on them. The Audi was caught behind a red Cadillac. When the driver realized there was someone on his bumper, he startled and hastily changed lanes without signaling, just as the Audi did the same. The Audi nearly rear-ended the Cadillac. Mitya smirked a little, certain Ania wouldn’t have made that mistake.
Ania suddenly cut across traffic, shooting in and out of the cars, timing it perfectly so she hit the exit before the SUV could adjust and take it as well. He was all the way over in the fast lane before she made her move. Within seconds they were curving around and going under the pass in order to get back on the freeway heading in the direction Sevastyan wanted them to be going.
“Damn it, Ania, you lost them,” Mitya snapped. “The plan was for them to follow us.”
“They’ll follow,” she assured, easing off the gas as they came up on the other ramp. “If I hadn’t pretended to try to shake them, they’d be suspicious and maybe wouldn’t have followed.”
“They aren’t behind us.” He pointed out the obvious. He wanted to explode at someone. He was that angry. He’d had enough of these men coming after them for some mythical reason no one knew about.
“The Audi’s fast and will catch up, and the SUV will take the next exit just a mile or so up the road. No worries.”
“We’re not on a fuckin’ picnic,” he growled. He detested that she was anywhere in close proximity. He didn’t want to take a chance she could be hurt. He also didn’t want her anywhere around when he interrogated whatever prisoners they could take alive. He intended that their last hours on earth wouldn’t be pleasant ones. God knew, she already had every reason to run. He didn’t want her to see the real man and what he was capable of doing to another being—or how good he was at it.
Ania’s eyes met his in the mirror. “I know, honey,” she replied softly. “I’m well aware these men mean business. I lost my family to them. I’m not about to lose you, or Sevastyan or Miron, to them as well.”
There was determination in her voice. Heartache. Mitya wanted to kick himself. Dymka prowled just below the surface, an unrelenting, merciless drive to kill. The leopard wasn’t alone in that need. Mitya had the same unforgiving, ruthless, implacable drive to kill, only he wanted to torture every single scrap of information he could from them first. Dymka backed off a little when he was certain Mitya was on the same page with him.
When the leopard stepped back, it allowed Mitya to better get a grip on his anger and dial down the ferocity level. Ania was already nervous about their relationship, and he could feel her pulling back. She’d all but told him she felt she didn’t know him. Torturing and killing those men, even if they were enemies, might not be the best way to reassure her he was doing his best to turn his life around.
“Audi coming up behind us,” she reported as she accelerated onto the highway, somehow finding a small space to squeeze through to the middle lane, and then they were in the fast lane threading through traffic.
She slowed once to a sedate speed and sent a smirk to the mirror as a cop slid silently up behind the Audi, trying to catch them.
Mitya caught a glimpse of the SUV making its way through traffic. There wasn’t as much traffic heading in this direction, away from the city toward the hills and wine country. The SUV spotted the cop and was forced to slow as well. Ania’s speed was just above the limit, and she added one and then two more miles per hour. They crept away from the two cars chasing them.
“Is everyone in place?” Mitya asked Sevastyan. He couldn’t help the clipped voice.
“Yes.”
“Just our people?”
“The ones we trust,” Sevastyan said. “Fyodor and Timur brought the crew they trust as well. We didn’t alert Bannaconni or Perez this time. We’ll handle it. Fyodor has a place we can take any
prisoners to.”
Ania’s gaze slid to his in the mirror and then her eyes were back on the road. Mitya ignored the uneasiness creeping into her gaze.
“How the fuck did the glass break on Miron’s window? It’s supposed to be bulletproof and new. That looks as if the sun degraded it.”
“Had it outfitted a couple of weeks ago,” Sevastyan said. “Replaced everything just to be safe. Jeremiah took the car in because Miron was busy.” He didn’t point out that they’d been trying to keep Mitya safe while his leopard went crazy over Ania’s, but he did glance her way.
“Jeremiah? The kid? No way is that boy a traitor.”
“You have to worry about him, Mitya,” Sevastyan said. “He came from Borneo, same as Amory. Drake recommended him, same as Amory. They both worked for Jake Bannaconni at Drake’s suggestion. He could be a plant.”
“He’s not a plant,” Mitya said. “You know damn well he’s not a plant. He’s got ADHD or something, Sevastyan. No way would anyone recruit him for a long-term undercover operation. It isn’t him. Where’d you take the car?”
There was a small silence. Ania glanced at Sevastyan. Mitya saw her hand tremble for the first time. Her unease had nothing to do with the fact that their exit was coming up fast. She began to make her way over to the slow lane.
“Took the car to Houston. The Anwar family outfits cars like ours,” Sevastyan said.
Ania had known that. Of course, she knew. She grew up around all the families in San Antonio, Houston, probably other places as well. She knew the shops, anything at all that had to do with cars or a crime family. Her grandfather and father had groomed her to take over the business. They’d been friends with Bartolo Anwar, his two sons, Enrico and Samuele, and she’d probably met Bartolo’s daughter, Giacinta, as well.
“They’re following,” Ania announced. “No cops following, they’ll be coming at us aggressively.”
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