Page 24 of Wraith
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure, I do.”
Amelia said nothing. She didn’t have time. Cuzo reported they were almost there and we should strap in again. Wraith sighed and did as Cuzo said.
The plane landed in Toronto along a back road, two miles from Pearson without incident. Cuzo handed over the keys to a vehicle and explained Tex asked him to prepare it for them. Wraith handed the keys to Amelia and Cuzo explained the location, which was just off to the side of the road where they had landed.
Wraith gave the inside of the plane the same cleaning he’d done to the van earlier then allowed Cuzo to showed them to their car. He helped Amelia in before closing the door and hurrying over to the plane where Cuzo was busy kicking at one of the landing gears.
“Are you sure about this?” Cuzo asked. “I didn’t want to say nothin’ in front of your lady, but you’ve been out of this game a while.”
“She’s not my lady.” Wraith glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was still in the car. “And I really don’t have a choice at this point.”
“Watch your back, eh? If what Tex told me is true, this is not going to end well.”
Wraith nodded. “Trust me. I know—.”
A bullet missed his head by mere inches and fastened into the side of Cuzo’s plane. Wraith ducked expecting his friend to do the same.
“Son of a bitch!” Cuzo yelled, reaching for the hole where the projectile was lodged. “I’ll never be able to get…”
Bang!
This time, the shooter missed the plane. Cuzo gasped, went silent before slumping to his knees. He then slammed into the ground, face first. Wraith didn’t have to feel for a pulse—there was a gaping hole in the back of Cuzo’s head.
He felt sick to his stomach as he reached for his gun and rolled underneath the plane to put a shield between himself and the unseen shooter.
“Liam!”
“Stay put! Keep your head down!”
Taking a breath, he fired a shot in the air, then peered around the flying contraption. True to form, the unseen assailant, returned fire. The flash of the muzzle gave his attacker away.
Sneaking around to the other side, Wraith used the plane to steady his aim and fired. He heard the sound of bullet piercing through flesh then a groan. Though he had no idea how many there was in the dark, he hunched down low and headed for the car. Someone else began shooting at him as he went. Bullets ricochet off the asphalt. There was nothing to hide behind so he kept running. The engine of their ride gunned to life and he arched a brow.
“Get in!” Amelia screamed.
“Stay down!”
“Stop telling me what to do and get in!”
He did as she said by tossing himself into the backseat. Even before he had the door closed, Amelia already had the car turned and heading, full speed, toward the airport. A few bullets hit the side of the car but nothing too dangerous. When they were at a safe distance away, Wraith climbed between the seats to the front passenger one.
“Cuzo?” Amelia asked.
“Dead.”
“Oh my God. Wraith, I’m sorry.”
“Stop.” Wraith shook his head. He’d said it a little too gruffly and he knew it. Still, he didn’t apologize. Ever since the day he decided to join the military, people had been apologizing to him. He was tired of it.
Them being sorry would not bring back people he cared about. It won’t make his ex love him or want him. So, what was the point of wasting breath on sorry?
“Make a right at the next light. We need to get to terminal one.”
Chapter 7
Never in her life did Amelia think she’d get shot at. She’d lived in a way as to not upset people, walking on the careful side of her existence. Then in less than a week, her home was broken into, she was shot at, attacked in a parking lot, watched a man get shot to death—what was happening?
