Damaged Prince: A Dark Mafia Romance (Koalistia Bratva Book 1) by Autumn Reign

Author:Autumn Reign [Reign, Autumn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

6

Dmitry

“Cocksucker,” I yelled, crouching behind the stone wall that I had been forced to crash my car into. These fucking Americans and their need to build everywhere had made it impossible for me to lead him into the park. The smoke still poured thickly out of my crumpled hood and into the sky as another round of bullets ricocheted off the wall in front of me and into the grass before it.

He had an apparently never-ending supply of ammunition. The fucking pig. He’d chased me halfway across the city, ramming into my bumper at every opportunity until I had finally taken to driving down the backroads. Once there, he’d only delighted in shooting at my fucking car.

I’d been too quick to jump the gun, turning off where I thought I remembered it leading to another series of backroads . . . and instead ending up in this nature park or whatever the fuck it was. The trees around us stretched to the fucking heavens. There was the occasional trail, but these were so poorly taken care of that they guaranteed the absence of any company.

Who the fuck put a half-wall in the middle of fucking nowhere?

I had been hoping to pull up to the trees for cover, taking him out before he even got close enough to start this shit again. But here we were. And I was sorely unprepared, my own ammunition stores regrettably low due to my change in station. I had told my father taking me off from being a torpedo was a bad fucking idea.

The sound of his reloading reminded me to check my own clip, and I all but threw my gun in frustration. Somewhere along the way I had miscounted. There wasn’t a single fucking bullet left inside that clip, and it was the last one I had.

“Give it up, Koalitsia,” the ragged voice called from the other side of the wall. “Come out and die like a man, if you think you’re deserving of even that!”

“You kiss your whore mother with that mouth?” I tossed back, closing my eyes and breathing heavily as he opened fire on the wall again. I was counting the bullets now—counting how many he had left until he was forced to reload. Each bullet against the stone proved he was coming closer, with each shot sounding more and more likely to break through. . . . “Idi na hui, big man with your big guns. . . . Is that why you were part of a snitch ring? And not a very good one at that.

I could hear the frustration in his grunt, the sound of his clip hitting the ground only heard at all because of his break in shooting.

The hitch in my breath was much quieter, as was my sudden springing into action. I wasn’t waiting for him to run out of bullets or praying that he would before he reached me. I wasn’t relying on luck. I ran out from behind where I had been

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