Page 53 of Burdens
Barrera? What is this guy on?
I would have blamed my misunderstanding on the fact thatdarijawasn’t my native language, but I’d mastered it before coming to work for the cartel, so there was no way it was that.
I must have just misheard with all the adrenaline coursing through my body.
I glanced over at Noah, but he didn’t look at me. Instead, he had a grim expression on his face, his jaw clenched, but I didn’t have time to dwell on this any longer or we’d end up dead.
I peered into the side-view mirror, noticing there were only two men in the car that just shot at me. “When I tell you to, slam on the brakes and slightly weave into their lane,” I instructed Noah as I grabbed my gun and checked the chamber.
He gave me a quick side-glance before looking back at the road. “What?”
“Stop questioning me and just trust me.”
“Fine,” he gritted out.
I focused my sole attention on the wing mirror, waiting for the perfect moment. I waited with bated breath as the second SUV weaved through cars and drew closer until they were far enough for what I’d planned.
“Now,” I shouted and Noah did as I’d told him.
The driver hadn’t expected me to be this close range and didn’t pull away fast enough before I raised my weapon and fired two bullets—one for his head and the other for his companion.
The driver slumped forward, his head lolling as it collided with the steering wheel, the sudden impact causing the horn to blare and join the symphony of the chaos already ensuing outside.
Their vehicle veered off across the lanes, cars behind honking and doing their best to avoid it. It kept its course until it collided with a street lamp post, the airbags deploying.
Noah muttered something unintelligible under his breath, pulling my attention back to him. Before I could register anything, the car lurched forward as something rammed into us from behind, almost sending us careening into the truck in front of us.
As Noah regained control, they struck again, the impact sending shockwaves through the vehicle. I peered over my shoulder, noting movement in the front seats, the gleam of a rifle being loaded.
Police and paramedic sirens cut through the air. We were about ten minutes away from the expressway and we had to both get rid of the car before we reached it and evade the authorities’ radar. The last thing either one of us needed was to end up in a prison cell, only to then be sent back to Barrera.
Using the sleeve of my leather jacket, I wiped at the broken glass on the windowsill. Then I unfastened my seat belt, tightly gripped the grab handle, and leaned the upper half of my body out.
I fired once but missed when a hand tugged me back.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he shouted, his voice sharp with urgency as he yanked me back to my seat.
I whipped around, my frustration boiling over at the fact that he made me waste a perfectly good shot. I tilted my head. “Would you rather do it?”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “As you can see, my hands are a little occupied at the moment,” he gritted out just as a bullet ricocheted against the back bumper.
“Then let me do this,” I said and moved for the window again.
He tugged me back down to my seat, his hand gripping my thigh. “No. I’m not risking you dying because you wanted to play the hero.”
My irritation spilled over, ravaging a path through my veins. “I’m not playing the fucking hero,” I bit out. “I’m trying to make sure we don’t end up fucking dead or worse back at Barrera’s. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be held captive as a traitor.”
The truck previously in front of us changed lanes and Noah sped up.
“Come here,” he said.
“What?”
“I said, come. Over. Here,” he repeated, reaching under his seat with one hand and adjusting his seat back.
I finally realized what he meant, my eyes widening in comprehension.
“Absolutely not.”
