Guess I’m over my inhibitions, then.
Survival was everything, and these goons still had hold of Pantera and Eric. She saw the next in line, disappearing up ahead — a large Russian pulling Pantera along by the scruff of his jacket. The older man was bleeding profusely and limping, looking like he’d been beaten. Cassidy sprinted, catching up rapidly. The big Russian heard her and let go of Pantera, who sank to his knees. Cassidy hit the Russian with the butt of her rifle, once, then twice across the temple. His head barely moved. The skin split and blood leaked into his eyes, making him blink. Cassidy saw his gun coming up and punched it down, centering on nerve clusters now, because she realized that these meat machines appeared to feel no pain.
The gun kept rising. Cassidy struck as hard as she could, dropping her own weapon in the process. The man’s eyes registered nothing at all, no pain, no fear, no acknowledgment that he fought for his life. A gun went off, the bullet passing Cassidy’s midriff with barely an inch to spare and continuing down the hallway. Bodie flung Steph aside in case there were more. Cassidy resorted to a knee in the groin and a punch to the throat.
Nothing. This wasn’t a man she was fighting — just a slab of unfeeling, unwitting muscle and bone. And all the time, the four other Russians with Eric were getting away.
She found herself forced back against the wall, the mountain pushing her with the bulk of his body, his knee pressing into her stomach, his chest against hers. His gun was wedged between them and she couldn’t move anything but her hands, which she used to pummel and break bone.
The breath was being forced out of her.
Fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this before.
They had been foolish to think they could take the Bratva head-on, that was clear now, but what other choice did they have? She was weakening, and even several point-blank eye punches had barely moved her opponent. He couldn’t see, he could barely breathe, but still he crushed.
Bodie was coming up fast behind, but it was Pantera in his desperation who saved her. Staying on his knees, shuffling across the hall, he located and withdrew the big Russian’s small but wickedly sharp, curved blade and sliced him across the kidneys.
Cassidy saw the strength leave him. She kicked and pushed him away then ran headlong down the now empty corridor, Bodie at her back. She could hear Pantera struggling to climb to his feet and Steph screaming at him as she ran by.
She halted before the ruined front door, instincts kicking in. A bullet grazed the frame as she pulled up, showing at least one man was out there waiting for her. Sirens wailed in the distance.
Now what?
Pantera grabbed her gun and ran out into the open. He didn’t care about the gunfire. He was focused on one goaclass="underline" Eric.
A bullet passed Pantera, barely a hairsbreadth from his neck, but Pantera just stood there and fired back. Surprisingly, the dense bush his opponent sheltered behind did nothing to stop the deadly lead from entering and rifling his body. Pantera turned the gun toward the rest of the Russians.
“No.” Cassidy pulled it away from him. “Too risky.”
The main group was already at the cars, helping the beaten-up drivers and throwing them behind the wheel. They were six strong now, but they carried Eric between them, the crying child the main focus of everyone involved in the battle.
“Don’t let them take him!” Steph screamed, her voice breaking.
Pantera stumbled down the path, fully exposed.
Cassidy shook her head, then grabbed and flung him to the ground for his own safety, feeling more than a moment’s satisfaction when he grunted painfully. The asshole had brought this on everyone — from the moment he accepted the statue job and didn’t check its provenance properly, to letting the Bratva control him without asking for help.
Now Eric was bundled into the car. Cassidy saw guns being shoved out of the windows.
“No!” Steph saw what was happening.
Cassidy only had one option: a beautiful Dodge Challenger in a driveway to their left. Even in the darkness its bodywork gleamed an incandescent orange. She glanced around at Bodie. “You up for a car chase, bud?”
“Anything,” Bodie panted. “What did you have in mind?”
“That.” She was already running as the Russians fired up their engines.
“You can hot-wire something like that?”
Cassidy didn’t even respond. The leader of her group knew her background as a young adult on the street, as a hustler, as a struggling actress and a cage fighter. He knew where she came from.
“I guess it’s older than it looks,” Bodie then said to cover his mistake.
She broke the window, then climbed in, brushing the glass to the carpeted floor. The Russians were squealing away. Cassidy looped the wires and started the car, hearing the deep-voiced and beautiful V8 engine explode to life.
“Get in, Bodie,” she said as she swung out of the driveway. “And buckle up.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The night skies over central Florida glittered with stars as Bodie fastened his seatbelt and tried to hang on. Cassidy squealed the tires and set off in pursuit of the Bratva. Pantera and his wife were wedged into the back, entirely too close to each other at that moment and possibly for the rest of their lives. Pantera was glum and Steph was fraught, neither of them risking a glance at the other for fear of anger or tears, and both sat with lips so tight they appeared to be thin white lines.
Bodie had never been entirely happy with someone else at the wheel. Most times he explained it away as motion sickness but the truth was somewhat different — he preferred to be in control.
“Steady,” he whispered as Cassidy almost clipped the curb. “Steady… big wheels and rims on this thing.”
She took a moment to tear her eyes from the road while accelerating. “Are you questioning my driving skills?”
“I can’t remember ever seeing you drive before, Cass.”
“You kidding me? On the film sets I was a legend. Even replaced a racing stunt double after he broke an ankle.”
“Shit, that was almost a decade ago.”
“Excuse me?” She negotiated a bend, keeping the SUVs in sight as they sped along a tree-lined boulevard.
“I’m not questioning your age, Cass. Lighten up.”
“But you are questioning my driving skills, right?”
“I question everyone’s driving skills except mine.”
She shook her head. “Asshole.”
Bodie closed his mouth, hanging on. Cassidy gave him a sly look.
“Don’t shut your mouth. It’s still dark out there and we’re gonna need the light from those teeth.”
“Bollocks.”
Cassidy revved the engine, the deep, sonorous growl of the Challenger’s supercharged Hemi V8 filling their heads and pounding their chests. Bodie stayed practical and sneaked a look at the fuel gauge. Half full. Shit, that’s not as good as it sounds.
Cassidy smashed her foot to the floor, turning more fuel into fire. The car lurched and howled and negotiated another corner, gaining on the SUVs. Bodie could see one man in the back and carefully prepared the semiauto he’d taken back at the house.
“We ready?”
“Navigation shows a half mile straight up ahead,” Cassidy said. “I’m going for it.”
He lowered the window. Pantera did the same on his side. “Eric’s in the front vehicle, but still…”
“Not taking any chances,” Pantera muttered.
They leaned out either side of the car. Cassidy used the Challenger’s power to pull up behind the SUV and then whip out until she raced alongside it. Windows were already down in the other car, guns pointing.