There’s a massive graze over my leg and both elbows are going to hurt for a while, but apart from that, I’m perfectly fine. Maybe a little in shock, but as long as Noah is here and he’s still breathing, I’m going to be ok.
“I’m fine,” I rush out, sinking into him and holding him as hard as I can while tears spring from my eyes. “He was going to shoot you.”
“I know, Spitfire,” he soothes, running a hand down my hair. “It’s ok. He didn’t. I’m fine.”
“But-”
“No buts,” he tells me. “We’re both fine. Though, you realize you’re a crazy fool and will be speaking to a professional about your need to run into situations like that?”
I gape up at him. How can he possibly be making a joke right now? “He was going to shoot you,” I repeat.
“I know, babe,” he says. “And without you to stop him, he probably would have.”
I shake my head, the tears becoming too much. “Don’t put that image in my head.”
He wipes the tears off my face. “I’m sorry, but you started it when you jumped on a guy’s back who was holding a gun.”
At the mention of Anton, I can’t help but turn to look at him. “What are we going to do?” I ask, checking to see if he’s breathing. I mean, all hell is going to rein down on Noah if he killed the mob boss. “He’s not dead, is he?”
“Nah, just knocked out cold. Possibly a fractured skull.”
“Shit. Are we going to get in trouble for this?”
Noah scoffs. “Unlikely. What’s he going to do? Go to the cops and tell them I kicked his ass while he was trying to shoot me.”
“Good point,” I tell him before pointing down at Anton. “What are we going to do about that?”
He shrugs again. “Not our business. I’ll call his guy to get him off the street and hopefully away from my place and then we’ll hand that gun to the cops. Hopefully, they’ll be able to get a little information off it and tie him to something.”
Damn, that’s not a bad plan.
I let out a deep breath as Noah pulls his phone from his pocket to make his call. I listen in, a little terrified of just how easy Noah fits into this life. Whoever he’s calling must pick up as Noah doesn’t waste a second with his threats. “Your boss is lying unconscious in the street. You have three seconds to get your ass away from my home and scrape him off the fucking road or you’ll be next.”
With that, he ends the call and takes my hand. We start walking towards Noah’s Camaro, wanting to be far away from Anton if he decides to join the world again when the gun appears at my feet. I look down at it, hating all the pain and suffering this stupid little thing could have brought.
The only good that will come of this is Noah handing it to the cops. Hopefully, they’ll be able to find something to pin on Anton to keep him locked up.
I go to pick it up when Noah yanks back on my arm, nearly pulling it right out of the socket. “Don’t,” he yells, pulling me as far from the gun as possible. “Haven’t you ever watched those crime shows? Fingerprints.”
With that, he pulls off his shirt and wraps it around his hand before picking the gun up off the road. He wraps the shirt around it and walks to his car before shoving it deep under his seat and looking over at me. “Come on, babe,” he says. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Chapter 7
We sit out the front of my house, Noah on one side and Tully on the other, contemplating what the fuck we’ve just done and how the hell we’re going to save our asses.
One. We knocked out the mob boss and possibly fractured his skull. I mean, I’ve never met Anton before this but from the movies I’ve seen, that’s not exactly something mob bosses are fond of.
Two. Tully evaded them and made a fool of Anton’s muscle guy. Probably something that’s going to cause a few heads to roll.
Three. Noah stood his ground and quit working for him when no one gets that pleasure. It’s been rumored that the people who have tried…well, they’re no longer with us. You know ‘accidents happen’.
Four. We handed Anton’s gun to the police. This one speaks for itself. When Anton finds out the cops have that, he’s going to know it was Noah who did it and something tells me that’s not exactly a forgivable offense.
We’re fucked. So fucking fucked.
Tully leans forward on her knees and stares at the ground ahead. “He’s coming for us, isn’t he?”
Noah lets out a sigh and reaches around me to squeeze his sister’s knee. “Yeah,” he tells her. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. He’s after me, not you two. You can get out now, be safe, and I’ll face this on my own. I’m not about to let my mistake hurt you.”