Page 154 of Vicious Games

That’s all the warning I get before the car jerks violently. Stella cuts across the road, swerving to avoid the high beams flashing behind us. Tires screech as she guns it, twisting through the narrow forest lanes like a racer with something to prove.

Branches whip past us in a blur of motion and shadow, the engine roaring louder with every turn. Then—a sharp bend, too sharp.

Stella yanks the wheel, but it’s too late.

The car fishtails, tires losing grip on the damp asphalt. We spin once—twice—before the world flips sideways and metal crunches against metal and tree bark. The seatbelt bites into my chest as the car lurches to a violent stop, nose-first in a ditch, smoke curling from the hood.

For a beat, everything is still. Silent. The only sound is my own ragged breathing and the ticking of the cooling engine.

Then—headlights.

They wash over us like floodlights in the dark. The other car slows, engine growling low, and eases to a stop just a few feet behind our wrecked vehicle.

“Are you okay?” she asks, already unbuckling her seat belt.

“I…I think so.”

“Good. Stay in the car. No matter what you see or hear. Don’t move.”

Then she’s gone.

I watch in stunned awe as Stella pulls two guns from behind her back and starts firing at the vehicle that chased us into a ditch. Muzzle flashes light up the night as bullets fly. Bullets continue to whistle past the car, each one cracking like a whip in the air. Then I hear a loud crash! The rear windshield explodes behind me, shards of glass raining down like glittering hail. I let out a blood curdling scream, instinctively ducking low, my arms flying over my head as a second shot ricochets off the metal frame of the door. My ears ring from the proximity of the shots, the world narrowing down to pure noise and panic.

All this time, I was worried about my proximity to the Romano clan, fearing for Lucky’s life, when all the while I should have been focused on my own. And yet here I am, worried not for myself but for Stella. She’s still out there, firing back at our attackers, doing everything she can to keep me safe. I can hear her shouting something, her voice fierce and wild over the staccato of gunfire.

The car rocks slightly as she moves, the thunder of her shots echoing through the forested road like firecrackers in a canyon. The sharp tang of gunpowder leaks into the air, mixing with the sweet rot of pine and earth outside.

TINK! TINK!

Another round slams into the side mirror, snapping it off. The glass shatters like ice.

I curl tighter into the seat, heart racing, breath shallow, trying not to sob or scream. My hands are over my head, but they’re shaking too badly to offer any real protection.

“The boss wants the girl alive!” I hear someone shout, but then gunshots roar again, but I’m too scared to lift my head to see if Stella is okay. My heart hammers against my ribs. My hands tremble in my lap. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I clasp my hands together and start to pray.

Please, God. I know we’re on a time-out—but please, please keep Stella safe. Please.

And then—silence.

Eerie, suffocating silence.

I lift my head slowly, just in time to see my door wrench open.

“Get out,” a burly man growls in strangled English.

“No,” I snap, gripping the seatbelt.

But instead of arguing, he lunges inside, grabbing at the belt. I punch him—once, twice—but it barely fazes him. He curses in a language I don’t recognize, then drags me out of the car like a rag doll.

That’s when I see it.

Stella’s lifeless body lying on the road, her hair and back drenched in blood.

“STELLA!” I scream, lunging for her, but the man behind me locks his arms around my waist, lifting me off the ground, even as I kick and thrash to break free.

“Pick that one up,” he orders his friend. “The boss might want to deal with her too.”

He throws me into the back seat of their car and ties my hands behind my back. I watch helplessly as his friend hauls Stella over his shoulder and then shoves her into the trunk like a sack of meat.

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