Flesh and Blood (Dixie Mafia Series Book 1) by Cynthia Rayne

Author:Cynthia Rayne [Rayne, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Snippy and Snarky Ink
Published: 2016-08-24T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Quickly, Belle threw the lock in place then scrambled across the bench seat to lock the other door. When she turned around, David was gone. Belle glanced in the rearview mirror, hoping he’d fled the scene, but his van was still there.

The window smashed to jagged smithereens. David swung a tire iron over his shoulder and reached inside to unlock the vehicle.

She dove for the passenger door, but he snagged her ankle. Belle kicked with her other foot, but he grasped both ankles and hauled her across the seat, the broken glass biting into her legs even through the denim.

“Who are you? What do you want with me?”

He chuckled darkly. “I’ll tell you in the van, baby.”

Oh, hell no. Belle knew if she got into his vehicle, he’d drive off with her, and she’d never be seen again. Hissing in pain, she grasped the console, trying to hold on to something.

He kept tugging, yanking her further away from safety.

A shot rang out.

David glanced up, and Belle peeked over the seat to see Rebel approaching the truck with a handgun. He fired again, and David released her, then raced to his vehicle and jumped in. Tires squealing, he took off down the highway. Rebel got off another shot at the van, shattering the rear windshield, but it didn’t slow David down.

“You okay?” Rebel stepped up to the window.

Belle started to shake—she really wasn’t.

***

Thirty minutes later, Belle sat in a chair in Dix’s foyer while Ten patched her up. He’d introduced himself before he started working on her legs, but she hadn’t paid much attention.

Belle was in a daze.

Her knees still felt like jelly, and she wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and pull the covers over her head as if it’d somehow protect her. Belle wondered if she’d ever feel safe again. Her childhood had been hell, but she’d never experienced anything quite like this.

Byron and Dix were in his office; she couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but their voices sounded angry and loud. Every now and again, she recognized a word but couldn’t quite focus on the conversation. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Rebel informed Dix about what’d happened on the drive back to Crimson Creek, and when she’d arrived, he’d already been in a meeting with Beauregard. He hadn’t asked about her injuries, just ordered Ten to help her.

“The cuts are superficial.”

Belle focused on the Mafioso nearest her.

Ten was a handsome man, if strange. He stood well over six feet tall with a long, lean build. Ten had thick, dark hair and sported a pair of sunglasses—indoors, at night. Weird. Like the rest of the mafia men, he wore an expensive suit, though Ten had scruffy hair covering his chin and cheeks.

After he’d handed her a robe to wear, Ten picked the glass out of her legs with tweezers and cleaned the wounds with soap and water. Then he slathered the skin with antibiotic ointment and placed bandages over the cuts.

“What’s going on in there?” She nodded to the office.

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