And then Tommy said, “Is he dead?”
“I shot him three times.”
It wasn’t a yes. Grace might not have known Rick as long as she had Tommy, but he was a good man. Tommy gave the order to Boone to get rid of Rick. Whatever happened—and she was damn grateful for it—there was no denying that Rick got the upper hand. That didn’t mean he actually killed Boone.
But Tommy didn’t know that.
After thinking over Rick’s offer for a second, he finally nodded. He stepped aside, gesturing for Grace to get up. Bottom-heavy and awkward, she nearly toppled over in her haste to escape the car.
Tommy spun, reaching out to grab her by the upper arm. It might seem like he was just steadying her. Not so much. Squeezing so hard he’d definitely leave a bruise, he lowered his head until there was barely an inch separating them.
“Don’t get comfortable, Grace,” he whispered in her ear. “I told you. You’re mine.”
Her heart pounding, she waited until he let go of her arm before she hefted the gown up high and started to sprint across the cobbles toward Rick.
He opened his arms. She flew right into them.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, you’re alright. It’s okay.”
“Rick, oh my god, you’re really here.”
“I am, and I’m going to get you out of here. Leave Mathers to me. Everything is gonna be just fine. I promise.”
As much as she needed to hear that from him, she hadn’t forgotten about Tommy. Her ears were quirked toward any sound coming from behind her, coming from him. When she heard the soft click of the Jaguar's door being shut, followed by the purr of the engine, she knew he was making his escape. He wasn’t going to stick around for Sly to show up with Ethan and Natalie in tow. Abandoning Boone, Tommy was getting the hell out of there.
Then she heard him revving up the car. Grace’s attention snapped over her shoulder.
A mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake. What was she thinking? Taking her eyes off of Tommy for even a second was the biggest fucking mistake she could’ve ever made. Because he wasn’t retreating. If he was turning to leave with his tail tucked between his legs, Tommy wouldn’t need to rev his engine until he was back on the highway.
She turned in Rick’s arms, squinting against the blinding headlights. Tommy had flicked them on, illuminating the pair of them. The Jaguar was facing them straight. She had one thought—he wouldn’t—before Tommy slammed his foot on the gas and the Jaguar headed straight for her and Rick.
Rick realized his intent at the same time. With a rough toss, he threw her as far away from him as he could. “Stay down,” he commanded.
Her landing was hard. The thick ruffle of the wedding gown protected her hip, her thigh, her leg, but her shoulder slammed into the road, sending a jolt of pain screaming down her side. Her neck snapped up in a desperate bid to protect her face. She sucked in a breath before clamping her teeth together so hard, she bit her tongue.
Don’t scream, she told herself. It would only distract Rick. Don’t scream!
It was all happening so fast. Grace had no time to process it, no time to think, torn between wanting to heed Rick’s order to stay down and crawling as far away from the cobbled road as she could. The only thing she was sure of was that Rick was doing what he’d always wanted to do: he was protecting her.
The car was fast. But Rick? In tight quarters, he was faster. Already flat-out sprinting, he managed to get behind it before Tommy spun around. He emptied the Beretta’s clip in the Jaguar’s rear tires. They didn’t pop, but Grace prayed that he did something to slow Tommy down. It had to have been worth it. The gun was useless now.
That wasn’t the only thing that was useless, either. How could any type of self-defense technique defend them from a maniac intent on running them down?
The tires squealed as Tommy threw the car into reverse. He backed up about ten feet, then changed gears so quickly, the air was rent with loud grinding. His tires spun, throwing up dirt and gravel, and he lurched forward again.
Too late. Rick already dodged the strike, diving to the rough road and rolling away before Tommy even realized he was gone. Grace’s heart leaped in her throat when she saw how close he was dancing to the mouth of the gulley. He was too, too close.
Tommy must have figured that out, too. He sliced his car near Rick, but it didn’t seem like he was trying to hit the other man this time. Instead, he brushed him back, forcing Rick to the fringe before he flew past him and sped off into the night.
Surprise kept Grace grounded. Was that… was that it? Did Tommy realize that he was acting crazy? Rick gave him the opportunity to go, and if he was telling the truth about back-up, Sly would be there soon. No way he could take on both of them. Tommy was shrewd enough to know that.
When he was thinking clearly. Right now? Not a chance.
Grace had to move. She had to get to Rick, had to get out of there. Tommy would come back—
Tommy was coming back.
The Jaguar was always so quiet. But Grace had spent months driving around inside of it, then even longer trying to avoid it. Even without the loud rev cutting through the night, she picked up on the tell-tale hum a split second before the air shifted and she realized that he’d returned.