The Wrong Kind of Love

"Tor, I'm coming right back." I remove her hand from my arm."Don't worry about me, doll," I say, taking her face in both hands and pressing my lips to hers.

Her fingers wrap around my wrists and hold me in place. The kiss is hard, desperate to keep me there, but I pry myself away. And damn, is that hard.

"You gotta let me go." I get out of the car, my eyes locked on hers. "I love you.” Then I shut the door.

Rio climbs out and Marney speeds off. "Now what?" Rio asks as he lights a cigarette.

"We hope to fucking God this guy's alone when he shows up."

We stand on the side of the road, guns in hand, and wait for the limousine to drive up. I've spent years imagining what the hell I will do when I finally get my hands on Tom Campbell, and now that I'm so close, I can’t feel a damn thing.

Headlights appear in the distance, and my heart drums into my throat.

"Alright, you check the back when he pulls up, okay?" I say to Rio.

Then I hear the click of his gun cock.

The car slows and veers onto the shoulder, dust flying up in the red taillights. I keep my finger on the trigger as I step back into the tall grass. Pointing the gun at the window, I reach for the passenger side door handle and open it. "You better be fucking alone," I say, staring in at Stan.

"Where's my daughter?"

Rio moves to the back and opens the door. "It's empty.”

"Roll the partition down," I order Stan before shutting the front door and getting into the back seat behind Rio.

"Where is my daughter?"

Ignoring Stan’s question, I press the barrel of the gun to the back of his seat. "I have a 45 Magnum buried in the seat behind you. You piss me off, I pull the trigger. And that bullet will rip right through your intestines. Do exactly as I say, or your daughter doesn't stand a chance. Got it?"

He doesn't say anything. "Got It?”

"Yes.”

"Good, now, drive.”

He puts the car into drive and pulls off. It's silent, only the low hum of the tires rolling over the pavement. This can't be so easy. If this guy said anything to Tom, tipped him off at all, this will not go as planned. And really, I don't expect it to. Nothing ever goes as planned in life. Nothing.

I play out various scenarios of what may happen. Thinking maybe we're being driven to some abandoned house where fifty of Joe's men are waiting on us. It's not that I'm scared to die, because I'm not. I'm afraid to leave her.

I don't want to leave her. I can't leave her... I promised.

Eventually, we pull up to a gate at the airport. And the second the limo comes to a stop, Rio shoves his gun into the waist of his jeans. He opens the door, flipping the bottom of his shirt over the handle of the pistol as he climbs out.

The limo navigates the airport drop offs.

"Don't do anything stupid," I say to Stan as I place myself in the corner of the limo so Tom won’t see me until he's inside.

The car comes to a complete stop, and my heart bursts into a full-on sprint. I glance through the window and locate Rio waiting on the sidewalk.

Then, I spot Tom exiting the doors. He's dressed in a black suit and red tie, briefcase in hand. My body heats the second I lay eyes on him. Each step he takes toward the car seems to be in slow motion. Rio makes his way toward the car, shadowing Tom.

CLICK.

The door opens, and Rio lunges, diving into the limo behind Tom.

Tom goes for his gun, but I point mine at his head with a resounding click.

"You fucking underestimated me," I say.

A sly smirk falls over his lips. "Did I?"

I use my free hand and tap the glass partition. "Drive," I tell Stan.

The limo pulls away from the curb, and Rio forces Tom’s hands behind his back, binding them with rope.

"So,” Tom says, smiling. “I hear congratulations are in order.” His smile deepens. "I so hope it’s a girl. I've already fucked her mother, which means I would have already fucked her while she was barely a thought in her mother's womb." White hot rage simmers beneath my skin, and my finger itches over the trigger. Tom leans forward. "I've fucked every woman you ever cared about.”

The car swerves as I pull the trigger. Tom grunts as the bullet that was meant for his heart rips through his shoulder.

"Drop it,” Rio shouts, panicked. "Drop it!"

BAM. Blood splatters the windshield, and Stan slumps forward against the steering wheel. Tires squeal, and we fishtail from side to side as the car veers off the road. The sudden jerk throws me against the side of the car, and my gun flies from my grasp. Metal bendS and glass shatters. The car flips over, tossing me around like a rag doll inside the cab as it rolls over and over, coming to a stop, upside down, at the bottom of an embankment.