Chapter 7 · Target on the Street

Chapter 7: Target on the Street

Luca's hand clamps the back of my neck and shoves me down into the footwell a half second before the windshield spiders into white frost.

"Stay down." His voice doesn't rise. That's the part that scares me.

Glass rains into my hair. Something cracks against the door panel—metal on metal, a hard wet sound I feel in my teeth. I'm folded over my own knees, my cheek pressed to leather that smells like gun oil and his cologne, and I can hear Marco up front screaming into a radio.

"Two cars, boss. East and west, boxing us."

"Punch through east." Luca's weight comes down over my back, his forearm braced across my spine like he's pinning something that might bolt. "June. Eyes closed."

I don't close them. I turn my head enough to see the window above me spider again, a second hole blooming an inch from where his shoulder just was.

A voice outside, close, amplified by the cracked glass like it's right against my ear.

"June! Hey, June Pell—Crowe, I mean. Does he know what his new wife's worth? Hundred grand a word, baby girl.