Chapter 9 - THE MOUNTAIN ESCAPE
The SUV tore through the midnight rain.
Wind whipped against the windshield.
Dante drove with one hand, his injured shoulder stiff.
I sat in the passenger seat, wrapping a clean handkerchief around his arm.
"You're bleeding through your coat," I said.
"I'll live," Dante muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
"Why didn't my father—why didn't Salvatore tell me?"
"Because you were safe," Dante said.
"Safe? My restaurant burned down, and men shot at us in a bank!"
"That's safe compared to what would have happened if Moretti knew your true name."
I looked down at the leather ledger.
I opened it to the first page.
Names, dates, and financial transactions spanning decades.
And right at the bottom, a list of Moretti's illegal assets.
"This is why they want it," I said.
"This is Moretti's death sentence," Dante corrected.
"With this, we can dismantle his entire operation."
The road grew narrower and steeper.
We were climbing deep into the foggy mountain range.
Trees crowded the edges of the asphalt like silent spectators.
Suddenly, twin beams of light filled our rear-view mirror.
A massive truck roared around the bend behind us.
It had no headlights on.
"Hold on!" Dante shouted.
The truck slammed into our rear bumper.
The SUV fishtailed violently on the wet road.
"They're trying to run us off the cliff!" I screamed.
Dante downshifted, tires screeching as he fought for control.
The truck rammed us again.
Glass cracked in the back window.
"Open the glove compartment!" Dante ordered.
I popped it open.
Inside lay a heavy black shotgun.
"Load it!"
I fumbled with the shells, my hands shaking.
I shoved two shells into the chamber and snapped it shut.
"Roll down your window!"
I cranked the manual window down.
Wind and rain whipped inside the cabin.
I leaned out, bracing against the roaring wind.
The massive truck loomed inches from our rear bumper.
I aimed at the truck's front tire.
I pulled the trigger.
The kickback slammed into my shoulder.
The shotgun roar echoed through the mountains.
The truck's front tire exploded in a shower of sparks.
The driver lost control.
The massive vehicle swerved, crashed through the guardrail, and plunged into the abyss below.
Dante let out a long, ragged breath.
"Not bad for a waitress," he said grimly.
"I used to hunt with my grandfather," I replied, my hands still shaking.
We drove on into the dark mountains.
May you like
The safehouse was waiting.
And so was the final showdown.
