Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,99
up and back, landing hard in the dirt. His legs kicked out, and his powerful shoulders threw up more dirt.
I screamed and fought, but the blade dug into my neck. Pain centered me. “Aiden,” I yelled.
Saber grabbed him by the legs and pulled him around the truck. He left indents in the dirt.
“Let me go.” I shoved back and tried not to impale myself on the blade. “I have to see if he’s okay. Let me go.” I freaked out, trying to see around the truck. More pain lashed through my neck.
Pucci pulled me around the truck and shoved me inside, grabbing the money bags and tossing them in the back. He jumped in and started the engine. I scrambled for the other door, but he manacled my hair and yanked my head to the steering wheel as he punched the gas and the truck lurched forward. My forehead hit the steering wheel, and agony exploded throughout my skull.
The truck bumped over rocks, and my body fell to the floor while he kept ahold of my hair with his hand on the steering wheel, so I was half on the seat and half off. My temple was attached to the damn steering wheel, and there was nothing I could do to get him to release me. My ribs protested, and my breathing was so off I could barely concentrate. The gunfire kept going outside.
Was Aiden dead? I hadn’t seen any blood, but he’d fallen so fast I hadn’t seen anything. Who was fighting out there? Was it the police or a rival gang or something? “Let me go, Pucci.”
“Shut up.” He punched the gas. Hard.
I gasped in air as tears flowed down my face. Think. Breathe and think. Angling my shoulder into the radio and pressing my knees against the floor, I twisted and punched him right in the groin. My hand glanced off.
He smacked me on top of the head with his free hand.
Agony shot from my head right down my spine, and I screamed. Then I struggled, panicking, hitting him with the hand that could reach him. He hit me again, and everything went dark. I fought to stay conscious.
“Stay still,” he said. “Or I will shoot you.” His words came from very far away.
The truck bumped and jerked, and water splashed inside his open window. He turned and drove down the shallow river, each river rock making him tighten his hand on the steering wheel as well as my hair. My whole head screamed in pain at this point. Bile burbled in my stomach and tickled up my throat, burning me. I blinked away tears and tried to clear my vision. In that position, I could see the bottom of his jeans and his boots.
I reached up and tried to pry his fingers out of my hair. He tightened his hold.
We went over a small embankment and both bounced. I flew up and then back down, more agony ripping through my skull.
The side of my face landed on the steering wheel this time. I whimpered and went limp, trying to stay alive.
“That’s better. Just hold on.” He turned the steering wheel, wrenching my neck, and we bounded over something hard, sending us flying again. Then we were clumping along a very rough area, but no more water splashed inside. Were we on the other side of the river? He swore and viciously twisted the wheel, nearly pulling my hair out. I bit my lip against the incredible pain. “Let me go, you asshole.”
“I swear to God I am going to shoot you. Hold still,” he barked.
Branches scraped the side of the truck, and we drove up and then down, then up and the truck bottomed out with a loud protest. Something scraped against the bottom of the vehicle, and we bottomed out again. If he didn’t stop, maybe the truck would just break or flood.
My right arm fell to the floor on his foot. I looked at the brake. If I pushed on it, he’d just shatter my hand with his boot. I scrambled to get balance, my hand sliding beneath the seat. Something smushy was down there, but nothing that would help me balance.
He turned again, and water splashed through the passenger side window and spread across the seat. Were we back on the river? He twisted and my head twisted with him, once again putting me in a position to be looking at his boots.