Page 76 of The Wicked
“Okay, sure, what’s the plan? Walking up to him and asking to borrow his car because we have to run away from him?”
Elio’s form stilled for about three seconds before he suddenly stood upright, turning to me as his head tilted to the side, eyeing me from head to toe.
I took a step back. “Whatever you’re thinking? It’s a bad idea.”
“Scream,” he commanded.
“What?”
“Scream. Now.”
“I’m not just gonna fucking—”
His hand wrapped around my throat, and he slammed my body into one of the cars, causing an instinctive shriek from me.
His body pressed to mine, all rugged ridges over my soft curves as he whispered to my face, “Now, was that so hard?” His hand gripped my ponytail, pulling off the wig and removing the wig cap. My hair fell free, and then he was gone, disappearingbehind cars. It all happened within seconds, and I didn’t have time to catch myself or to hear the footsteps before they reached me; the man who’d been guarding the car was standing there, gun in hand, confusion on his face as he stared at me, holding the painting for dear life.
“Um…” My voice shook. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I was asked to deliver this, and then people were shooting, and now there are too many cars and too many dead people”—something shifted behind the man—“and I just wanna go home because I’m so scared”—fake crying—“I didn’t plan to do this, but my fucking boyfriend said it would be quick, but now it’s messed up. One minute I was dressed up for our date together”—fake heave—“and the next, he gives me this ugly painting and tells me his friend Marcus would be here, and then he had a bullet in his head, and then the gunshots and I don’t wanna die because I have college and fashion school and my whole future.” Fake sob.
“Miss—” He couldn’t complete his statement because Elio was bashing his head in with a—a stone potted plant that shattered on impact. The man fell with a dull thud to the ground.
My stare was blank. “A potted plant, really?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, maybe because you have a silencer in your hand?”
“I told you I wasn’t in the mood to kill anyone tonight.” Then he bent and searched the man’s pockets, got the SUV keys, and walked in its direction silently; I followed behind him as he unlocked the car.
We got in, locking the doors softly. “I don’t get you. One minute you’re a psychopath who kills innocent people, and the next, you’re not?”
His jaw clenched as he turned sharply towards me. “What do you want from me, Sport? Should I get out of the car and go back to kill him, take his wallet and find his ID card and then hunt down his wife and children and put a bullet through their heads?”
I swallowed, blinking. “Now that I think about it, the potted plant was more creative.”
“Good.”
“Can I at least get your phone? I need to let Street know that I’m still alive.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
I stopped short, blinking at him. “Who doesn’t have a phone?”
“Me. Are you slow?”
“How do we contact help?”
“In some situations, you must be all the help you need.”
He shoved the key into the ignition, and the moment the engine roared to life, we heard a shout. “Hey!Kto vy?”Who are you?
I froze. My blood ran cold, and shivers flowed down my spine in waves as my gaze locked with Elio’s.
“Russians?” we said at the same time.
“Ya nashel ikh!”I found them!
“Shit! Go, go, go, go!” I was practically jumping on the seat as the men fell back from shooting the boat people, rushing towards us and firing at the car.
