Page 102 of On Ice

“You’re in an unusually chipper mood,” Marco says, scrutinizing me. “Any particular reason?”

“The Ice Hawks won their game against the Boston Titans. We’re one step closer to the playoffs.” I make a cha-ching sound.

He squints at me. “This happy energy I’m sensing has nothing to do with hockey. I’d bet my left nut on that.”

I try to hide my smile, but can’t quite manage it. “I’m in a pretty good place with Evan.”

“Is that right?” His smile is sly.

I smirk. “Evan’s beenmuchfriendlier as of late.”

He guffaws. “Holy, shit. Did the bastard finally let you fuck him again?”

I smile, but inside I flinch at his crass phrasing. Strange, considering I’m usually just as callous as he is about my hookups. But I feel protective of Evan, which is very unlike me.

I’m about to respond when Danny suddenly straightens in the driver’s seat.

“Boss,” he says, voice clipped. “Black SUV behind us just ran a light to catch up.”

My hand instinctively moves to the Beretta holstered under my jacket. “Could be nothing. Maybe they’re just late for an appointment.”

“I’d agree, except another SUV just pulled out from Gardner Street and he did the same thing,” Danny reports, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “I’m worried they might try to box us in.”

Adrenaline floods my system, sharpening every sense. “Speed up and see what they do,” I suggest.

Danny accelerates, pressing me back against the leather seat. Marco already has his gun out, checking the magazine with practiced efficiency. We don’t want to overreact, but we also need to be ready in case it’s an actual threat.

“Could be the Russians,” Marco suggests, voice calm. “They’ve been acting squirrely lately.”

“Yeah,” I say. “It could also be anyone in the fucking world. I have a lot of enemies.”

“True,” Marco mutters. “Everybody wants to be you.”

I grimace. “It’s not as flattering as it sounds.”

The SUV lurches as Danny takes a hard right, tires squealing in protest. When I glance out the back window, I see the vehicles behind us match the maneuver without hesitation.

“Definitely not a coincidence that they’re going the same way,” Danny mumbles. “They’re still stuck to us like white on rice.”

Marco says drolly, “Maybe it’s Jehovah Witnesses.”

I crack a smile.“Have you heard the good news?”We’re covering our nerves with humor, but it’s better than panicking. You can’t think straight when you panic.

We’re in an industrial area now, warehouses looming on either side. Few witnesses, plenty of space for an ambush. But we didn’t really have a choice. We had to try and shake them.

One of the SUVs pulls even with us, on my side, and I say to Marco, “Text Vito. Tell him—” I stop talking as bullets slam into the SUV’s window with dull, vicious thuds. The bullet proof glass absorbs the impact like it’s supposed to, but the shooter istargeting one spot only, and my stomach drops. The glass won’t hold up if they pound the same spot over and over.

I meet Marco’s gaze and his expression is grim. “Fucker knows what he’s doing,” he growls.

“Yeah,” I mutter as a web of cracks blossoms across the window beside me. The glass bows inward with each new impact, whining under the strain.

I unclip my seatbelt and duck instinctively, heart slamming against my ribs. Marco pulls me down onto the seat and he covers me with his body. Another shot hits the glass. The center of the spiderweb pulses white, a small chip flicking off like a warning. A final blast punches through the weakened glass. Shards rain into the cabin. The protective seal is gone.

“Fuck.” Danny swerves hard, then accelerates again. “The vehicle to the left of us has a shooter.”

“I noticed.” I grit my teeth and push Marco off of me. He scowls at me, but I rasp, “I’m good, Marco.” I respect his desire to protect me, but I can’t do shit if he’s lying on top of me like a blanket. I need todosomething. The SUV that shot out the window dropped back momentarily, but now it makes another move to pass us.

Oh no you don’t, asshole.

---