Page 41 of Ruinous Need
I slam on the gas and hope like hell this jeep is faster in the dusty terrain than their low-to-the-ground city cars.
Not gonna work. Even if I did get ahead of them, it would be an easy shot straight out the windscreen for them to take me down…
The two cars surround me, boxing me in between them. Bullets will be ripping into this car any second now. I brace myself and arm up.
Keeping my foot to the ground I take my hands off the steering wheel and grab my rifle from the passenger side. The car lists to the right, sparking against the sleek black of the Mercedes and the collision sounds with a loud screech.
Think. Think.
I hold a magazine of bullets in my mouth as I try to load the gun, while keeping an eye on the road. There’s gotta be somewhere I can go.
The ranches and heat are endless, the bright blue sky ahead of us, and I have no idea where I’m going.
A bullet pings off the window of the jeep. Followed by another.
My gun’s magazine clicks into place. Finally ready to go.
A plan forms in my head, half-baked and dangerous. But it might work.
I don’t think it through too much. Thinking kills instinct in situations like this.
One gun in each hand. Both fully loaded with magazines. I’ve got no idea how many people are in those Mercedes.
I hit the brakes and start firing.
I’m thrown forward against the dashboard, but I don’t lift my finger from the trigger. I find my target. Both of the cars swerve, getting dangerously close to one another, but they don’t crash.
The Mercedes are speeding ahead but they can’t go faster than the bullets.
I continue firing at them until they’re just specks on the horizon. Still driving. Still alive. But far enough away that I can get a head start.
I pause to pull up a map of the area. I wasn’t wrong. It’s going to be a long, hot drive back to Buenos Aires in this bullet-riddled car.
Then, in case they’re tailing me, I pull the jeep off-road, across the ranches that line the dusty rural highway.
Some farmers are not going to be happy about this, but it’s the fastest way for me to get back to New York.
CHAPTER 16
LISETTE
THE HALLWAY LIGHT flickers on just as I’m finishing a dance rehearsal. Perfect timing.
I have to suppress a cackle as I imagine his face.
“What the fuck have you installed in my apartment, Lisette?” Viktor grits out when he sees the way I’ve redecorated the living room. I don’t miss the way his eyes rake up and down my dance outfit, either.
“Just… A pole. A small modification.” I’ve set up a row of mirrors along the wall opposite the TV, pushed the couches and armchairs to the side, and installed the pole in the center of the room.
I got into pole fitness when I stopped being able to perform ballet. It gave me agency and autonomy over my body, learning a new form of dance, and developing a strength that I didn’t think I had. Now it’s what I do whenever I want to let loose.
Sure, the pole was an expensive order, but judging by the penthouse apartment I don’t think money is an issue. That doesn’t stop Viktor’s face from falling into a tense scowl.
Given what he does for work, I’m always surprised at how easy it is to get a rise out of Viktor. You’d think he’d have bettercontrol of his emotions than this.
Secretly, I like the fact that I seem to be able to push all of his buttons.
“I thought you were a ballerina, not a stripper.” He’s trying to sound droll and unimpressed but I know the signs now.
