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“We’re on. Get them moving, and I’ll let you know where,” he said to Enzo before answering.
His uncle nodded and barked orders at the other cars they had prepped to go. They were already near the warehouse.
As the call connected, the sound of pinging against metal made the swirl inside of him tighten. “You there, Vespa?”
“Fucking shit fuck!” was the response, along with more metal sounds and screeching tires this time.
Antonio’s lips twitched as he listened to more cussing as well as an adrenaline-fueled laugh. “I need a location,” he said into the phone. “I’m assuming it won’t be the warehouse.”
“Yeah, no, I—hold on!” More cussing followed as metal crunched. “Fucking assholes. Sorry, Carla, but you’re the best girl ever.” Vespa made what sounded like kissy noises.
This new side of Vespa sent more warmth through his chest than the moment warranted. “Did you just apologize to your car?”
“You should see her! Took that turn like a dream, but—fuck off!” She screamed at someone before grunting, and more crunching metal filtered through the line. “Shit, I hate this,” she muttered, sounding out of breath.
“I’m still waiting on a location,” Antonio reminded her.
“I got cut off from the turn to the warehouse. Went right instead.” He heard more tire squeals as she wheezed out a laugh. “Well, right and left. I’m weaving them through as far as I can. There’s a nice dead-end down here if I’m remembering right.”
Antonio recalled the layout. It’d be perfect. He shouted instructions to Enzo, hating that he had to wait for his uncle to repeat them and scramble into the driver’s side. Enzo was a crazy driver, but crazy was fine in this instance, and Antonio still had the cast on.
“We’ll block them in if you can get them there,” he said to Vespa on the phone.
Her tone dropped. “I’ll get them there.”
Antonio wished he was driving. Anything that would get his adrenaline to taper off some. He and Vespa didn’t talk, but she kept the line open like he asked. He listened to her cuss and whimper apologies to ‘Carla’ for long minutes as they raced to catch up.
Her energy slid inside him, feeding his own. He felt like he was in that car with her, and the idea of it centered him. He and Vespa together were a force that was unstoppable, for as long as it lasted.
“There it is,” she muttered, and he could almost smell the burning rubber from the sounds coming through the phone.
Enzo managed to get the alley in their sights just in time to provide them a perfect view of the once-pretty Carla flipping, with Vespa still inside.
With the Di Salvo cavalry arriving so soon, it wasn’t much of a shootout. Vespa tried to wriggle out of her metal prison as she shouted instructions to take them alive. Her ears rang with the sound of bullets by the time she managed it, and she couldn’t tell if they’d taken her orders to heart yet. She leaned against what was left of Carla, gun out, getting her bearings to see who she could shoot.
Enzo Di Salvo made it to her crouching position first. He gave her a cursory onceover before gazing back over the car. “Almost done,” he murmured, taking a shot.
“Guess I’ll have to use all this energy on the torture then.” Her voice shook a little as she popped up. Only one enemy remained upright, and she took pleasure shooting him in the damn leg. They’d likely ruined poor Carla for good.
Enzo had been right. It was pretty much over. When no more shots rang out, Vespa tucked her gun back into her shoulder holster. The world spun when she straightened, and Enzo’s hand on her arm grounded her.
“I only see one scratch from that impressive crash,” he said, gesturing toward her forehead.
Vespa sighed. “What can I say? I know how to keep my body loose.” She nodded toward his steadying hand. “I’m good now.”
Enzo released her as Antonio came into view. His fake smile was in place as he studied her. She nodded toward the phone in his hand. “Can you ring me up? It’s a long shot, but setting up a new phone is a pain.”
Their call had ended when poor Carla had given up the ghost.
Antonio sighed, but at least he wasn’t rushing over to hug her or anything. “Don’t you always keep your phone on silent?” he asked distractedly, even as he did as she’d requested. “You said you hated the sounds phones made.”
Vespa frowned. She didn’t remember telling him that. It was a simple thing, but that he’d thought of it made her vertigo worse instead of better. “It might vibrate or something.”
“I think you’ll have to accept that—” A nearby rattle interrupted his words. He bent, fishing her phone out from under the remains of the passenger door. “Well, look at that.” He smirked as he turned the screen toward her. His contact name held steady on the screen before he ended the call.
“What?” She scowled at him, waiting for the jibe back for labeling him an asshole on her phone. At least fighting with him would take her adrenaline down a notch or two.
He didn’t argue or fight, though. He simply tucked her phone inside her jacket, right where she normally kept it.
