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Prologue.
Dana
“Come on,” I urged, glancing in my mirror.
London was supposed to be coming; he’d promised. But it had been five minutes since my phone disconnected and I’d knocked it to the floor. I couldn’t pull over due to the six bikers chasing me.
I was closer to the office, but not close enough.
A bike revved, followed by a second, and I gasped as I spotted two more begin to move nearer to me. Fear pounded in my heart, and my hands grew sweaty. I could see their patch on the front of their cut.
Venomous Fangs.
Oh my God.
As I turned a corner, blasting through a red light and swerving to miss an oncoming car, the bikes stayed with me. Tears were forming in my eyes, and I couldn’t afford to lose my vision now.
The two bikes moved to either side of me, and with a horrified cry, I saw a weapon in one of the rider’s hands.
Instinct took over, and I swerved into one and made him fall off.
Panicked gasps came from me as I hit the brakes, and the second biker sped past me. Seconds later, I hit the accelerator again and slammed into his bike with the side of my car.
A gun fired, and glass shattered.
But I didn’t hesitate and took another corner literally on two wheels.
A black SUV shot out from a side street, and I gasped as I spied the plate.
It was London!
Behind him was a second car, and I recognised Max’s 1969 Dodge Charger R/T. London immediately hit the brakes and fell behind the remaining four bikes as Max moved up close to me. Quick glances in my mirror showed Niko hanging out of the passenger window and firing at my attackers.
From behind the bikers, I saw Booth leaning out of London’s SUV and shooting a tyre out from one of the bikes. The bike wobbled and went down.
When the remaining three bikers realised I was no longer alone, they rode off down a side street.
Quickly overtaking London, Davies’s sleek black Camaro took off after them, and I spotted someone in the passenger seat.
I didn’t care who because I was now two streets away from the offices. My foot still heavy on the pedal, I flew around the last turn and hit the remote to open the gates to the underground parking. Easing up a little, I slowed enough not to smash my car and sped inside.
I skidded to a stop, leapt out, and dashed into Max’s arms.
They folded around me and held me tightly as one hand rubbed my back. He stepped backwards, bent, placed one arm under my knees, the other around my shoulders, picked me up, and ran towards the open elevator.
Dylan held it open with a harsh look on his face, and as soon as we were inside, London and Niko covering us, Dylan hit the close button.
I panted and clung to Max even as Dylan rubbed my leg. My mind hadn’t yet caught up to what had happened.
The doors opened into my reception area, and Max carried me to my chair as Dylan headed towards the very expensive coffee machine we had.
Max kept murmuring soothing words as Dylan made me my favourite cinnamon latte.
“You’re safe, Dana,” Dylan said, carrying it over to me.
“For how long?” I asked.
“Forever,” Dylan promised, murder and mayhem in his eyes.
