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My passenger door opened, and I was pulled from the leather seat. Gripping my arm very tightly, Jacopo chuckled and whispered, “Time to pay, bitch.” Then he pulled me to a sidewalk, placing me in front of him while guiding me toward the boardwalk.
He was right. There was no avoiding the terror to come.
Lorenzo’s nostrils flared as he walked down a plank toward us. “Did you really think I wouldn’t retrieve my property? My fucking investment?”
I could barely draw in a breath. I had never seen him so positively deranged. Dark circles under his beady eyes were a warning of how sleep-deprived he was. It was no wonder why Jacopo was so frustrated with me.
“Elle,” demanded Lorenzo, “you answer me now.”
From behind me, Jacopo gripped my hair and gave a shake, demanding I answer faster.
Gasping for air, I didn’t dare deny him or Lorenzo, so I tried to speak, but the whisp sound followed by a tap-thunk had me freezing. I recognized the sound of a silenced bullet flying through the air. I also knew what it sounded like when hitting a body.
Jacopo’s fingers slipped from my hair as his body dropped to the sidewalk.
Before Lorenzo could finish looking down to see where his favorite guard now lay, whisp tap-thunk rang out twice more. Both of his other guards crumbled to the ground. Never to move again.
Gritting his teeth, Lorenzo reached out to grab me, but a glaring sharp light flicking on had us both wincing while facing it. It was one lonely motorcycle headlight in the middle of the dark parking lot.
Lynx? Shielding my eyes, I studied the shadow of the man on the bike, but he had very short hair. He was lowering the gun that had been pointed toward us.
Lorenzo laughed at him. “Giving up before we get started? Big mistake.” More of his men came running off the boat, guns aimed, all at the biker.
I cried out, “No,” not wanting any leathered man harmed, but never got to finish begging.
Like flies hit with a swatter in midflight, every guard dropped after more whisp tap-thunks, yet the biker hadn’t even lifted his gun.
Lorenzo’s smile faded as he scanned the large field beyond the parking lot. I did, too, but saw nothing and no one—
Forced off-kilter, my high heels scraped along the concrete as Lorenzo hauled my back to his chest, a gun to my head. “Stay back!” he demanded.
Two words came from the only biker I could see. “Lorenzo Giordano.”
Lynx! That voice. That grumbling voice. And he was using the initials I had seen on Lorenzo’s gold necklace.
Giordano must have been correct because Lorenzo hissed in my ear, pressing the gun’s barrel hard against my temple.
Lynx warned, “Let her go, or your family finds out everything.” Lynx had found out about who we suspected was in Italy. Lynx added, “And Elleora’s.”
W-What?
Redirecting the gun to point it at Lynx, Lorenzo threatened, “Not if I kill you first.”
Ready to scream again and fight Lorenzo for the gun, Lynx unexpectedly turned off his headlight. Then, on cue, many more turned on. From the far end of the parking lot and field behind it, headlights burned in the night, all shining on Lynx.
In awe, absolute awe, I stared at the sight—this lone biker was not alone at all.
I had been right. My leathered angel had wings.
I just didn’t know they were made of brothers.
There were so many headlights, I couldn’t count them all. Must have been over two hundred bikers sitting in the dark, waiting for a threat they would never permit.
My mouth fell open.
No longer needing a headlight of his own, Lynx sounded different. “Let me make this very clear, Lorenzo.” He sounded… grounded. “You are manhandling a Stallion treasure.”
Mammy…
