Chapter 2 - Don’t Shoot the Waitress
“MOVE!”
I pulled.
Dante tried to push himself through the shattered window, but something caught his jacket.
“Stop,” he grunted.
“What?”
“My seat belt.”
I reached inside.
The car shifted again.
“Cara.”
“I know.”
“Get away from the car.”
“Not happening.”
I found the release.
It wouldn’t move.
“Damn it.”
“Cara.”
“Stop saying my name like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to die!”
His eyes locked on mine.
Even injured, Dante Moretti had an unnerving calmness.
“Knife.”
“What?”
“Inside my coat.”
I hesitated.
His mouth almost formed a smile.
“If I intended to hurt you, this would be a very inconvenient moment.”
I reached inside his jacket.
Found a folding knife.
Cut the belt.
“Now!”
Dante pushed.
I pulled.
He came through the window just as the tree snapped.
We rolled into the mud.
The wreck disappeared into the ravine.
For several seconds, there was only rain.
Dante lay on his back.
I was beside him, breathing like I had run ten miles.
He turned his head.
“You followed me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Headlights appeared above us.
One.
Then three.
Then five.
Black SUVs stopped across the road.
Doors opened.
Men rushed toward the broken guardrail.
“Boss!”
Dante tried to sit up.
I put a hand against his chest.
“Don’t move.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Did you just order me around?”
“You nearly fell off a mountain.”
“Fair point.”
Men climbed toward us.
The first one saw Dante.
Then saw me.
Then saw the blood on my hands.
His gun came up.
“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”
I froze.
Another gun appeared.
Then another.
Dante’s hand closed around my wrist.
“Don’t shoot her.”
Every weapon stopped.
A broad man with a shaved head reached us first.
“Boss.”
“Marco.”
“What happened?”
“Car.”
Marco stared toward the ravine.
“Where’s Luis?”
“My driver?”
Dante’s expression changed.
I hadn’t even thought about the driver.
Dante looked toward the wreck below.
His jaw tightened.
“We’ll find him.”
Then his eyes returned to me.
“First, I want an answer.”
The men surrounded us.
Rain ran down Dante’s face.
“Tell me, waitress.”
His grip remained around my wrist.
“How did you know my brakes were going to fail?”
I swallowed.
“Your wife.”
Nobody moved.
Marco’s expression hardened.
Dante released my wrist.
“What did you say?”
“I heard Vanessa talking to a man at Bellini’s.”
“About what?”
“About killing you.”
One of the guards muttered something under his breath.
Dante ignored him.
“Exact words.”
“She asked if the brakes were done.”
“And?”
“He said they were cut just enough to fail on the mountain road.”
Dante stared at me.
I continued.
“She said that by midnight she’d be a grieving widow.”
Marco looked toward Dante.
“Boss, we need to get you out of here.”
Dante kept watching me.
“Who was the man?”
“I don’t know.”
“Describe him.”
“Mid-thirties. Brown hair. Gray suit. Gold watch.”
Marco went still.
Dante noticed.
“You know him.”
Marco hesitated.
“Maybe.”
“Name.”
“Evan Rourke.”
Dante’s face became unreadable.
“Vanessa’s financial adviser.”
My stomach dropped.
“That sounds bad.”
Dante gave a humorless laugh.
“You have no idea.”
Sirens echoed in the distance.
Marco stepped closer.
“We need to move.”
Dante nodded.
Then pointed at me.
“She comes with us.”
I backed away.
“No.”
Every man looked at me.
Dante frowned.
“No?”
“I saved you. I called the police. My part is finished.”
“You heard two people discussing my murder.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
Marco looked as if nobody had spoken to Dante that way in years.
Dante stared at me.
Then, incredibly, he smiled.
Only slightly.
“You think you can go home?”
“Yes.”
“Vanessa saw you.”
My confidence disappeared.
Dante continued.
“And Rourke saw you.”
I remembered the question.
What did you hear?
Dante lowered his voice.
“If they realize I survived, who do you think they’ll assume warned me?”
I said nothing.
“You’re not safe, Cara.”
I looked toward my Honda.
Then toward the armed men.
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“I have work tomorrow.”
Dante glanced at my ruined uniform.
“I suspect you’re calling in.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Marco helped Dante stand.
Dante winced.
Then he looked at me.
“You saved my life.”
“I didn’t do it so you could own mine.”
Something shifted in his expression.
“Good.”
“What?”
“I don’t want people around me who can be owned.”
He nodded toward the SUV.
“But tonight, you stay where I can protect you.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow we prove who tried to kill me.”
His gaze hardened.
May you like
“And then my wife learns I survived.”
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