Page 269 of Lorenzo

“Lorenzo.”

“I know.”

We can't stay beside the car. Our SUV is finished. The front end sits crookedly in the ditch, and one wheel is twisted at an angle that tells me we are not going anywhere in it even if the engine still runs.

The road gives us almost no cover.

I sweep my gaze across the surrounding area, taking in what little the darkness and scattered lighting reveal. We are on a narrow stretch of wet road bordered by closed shops and parking lots.

It's not a particularly bad area of town, considering it's between my house and Mario's, but it is completely empty.

A few of the storefronts sit close enough together to give us options, but one catches my attention first. The windows are dark, the sign above the door unlit, and the narrow awning stretches far enough over the sidewalk to give us some cover from both the rain and the road.

I point toward it. “There.”

Donna follows my line of sight. “You think we can get inside?”

“I think standing here is worse.”

Her eyes move over the building, then back to the road behind us. “Unless that’s where they want us.”

“What if that is where they want us?”

I have already considered it.

For one unpleasant second, I imagine the entire ambush being designed to force us toward that building, where more men might be waiting.

Then I dismiss it.

If kidnapping us is the goal, keeping us at the exact location where we disappeared longer than necessary would be absurdly foolish. Mario knows the route we took from his house, and we’re not too far out. Our vehicles are tracked. The security detail behind us knows precisely where the attack happened, assuming enough of them are still able to report it.

Even if whoever planned this managed to disrupt communications, my brothers will realize almost immediately that something has gone wrong.

The first place they will search is here.

Anyone competent enough to organize this attack would want us moved away from the scene as quickly as possible, not hidden fifty yards from the wrecked SUV.

“They wouldn’t keep us here,” I tell her. “This is the first place everyone will come looking. If they intended to take us, they’d move us somewhere else as quickly as possible.”

Donna nods once, accepting the logic.

Mocha’s deep bark gets Donna’s attention.

“Mocha, attack!” she says.

Mocha launches himself without thought.

He hits the man coming at us from behind with enough force to knock him sideways, and both of them go down hard on the wet pavement. The man shouts and tries to wrench himself free while Mocha locks onto his arm and holds like a vice.

Donna keeps her weapon trained on him.

“Out!”

Mocha releases immediately and backs toward her, still positioned between Donna and the man as he curls around his injured arm.

I don't give him time to recover. One shot is all I need.

Another exchange of gunfire erupts behind us, and I turn toward the sound briefly. The second SUV has stopped at an angle farther back with one door hanging open, and I can make out one of my people firing from behind the vehicle, but the others are obscured by darkness, rain, and the position of the cars.