Chapter 53

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

TRISTAN

"Tristan." My name shakily trembles over Layla's quivering lower lip.

"Head down," I repeat myself sternly. The SUV behind us taps our bumper, and the car lurches forward. Layla shrieks as she's jostled in her seat when they slam into us again.

I run the traffic light at the next junction and make a hard left across four lanes of traffic. It momentarily places a little space between us.

But not near enough.

A gunshot booms over the zealous roar of my engine and squealing tires. The side view mirror on Layla's car shatters to pieces as the bullet causes it to explode. Scrunched into her seat, she shakes in fear as I continue to race toward help.

There are only four of them. It's a disadvantaged fight. One that I normally would not hesitate to take on because I know damn well I've been up against worse .

The rear window explodes with the bang of another gunshot, the lights of the dash going dark as the bullet buries to a stop inside it.

But Layla…

I won't risk her life.

"Call Conor," I instruct her as we're forced over the curb when they ram into us again. "Layla. Darling. I need you to call Conor."

Her hands shake as she opens the latch on her purse to pull out her phone. She struggles to key in her passcode with her wobbly grip.

"You can do this, mo cuishle ." I nudge her gently with my elbow. "Call Conor. Tell him where we are and that we're on our way to the club.

"C…Conor," her voice wavers, "Tris…We're on East 27th Street…and…um?—"

"Sixth Avenue," I shout loud enough for Conor to hear me.

"East 27th Street and Sixth Avenue," she repeats with her quavering voice. "There are men. We're coming to the club.

"Okay," she mutters into the phone before dropping it into her lap.

"You did so good." I glance at her. "So good for me."

My eyes linger on her a tad longer than they should to ensure she's okay, and I don't see it until it's too late. A black Audi pulls from a garage on our right and straight into our lane of traffic .

I slam on the brakes and crank the steering wheel to miss them, but we are going too fast, and they are too close. We crash into the driver's side with such force it crumples the front end of my Aston Martin. The airbags before us deploy with a bang, but all I hear are the bullets piercing the frame of the car.

Firmly grabbing Layla, I force her against the console between our seats and smother her with my body to protect her from the shots being fired at us.

I'll take all of them if I have to. For her, I'd take anything.

Even muffled beneath me, her shrill screams fill the small confines of the car, drowning out the ricochets. "I've got you, mo cuishle . I'll fucking die if it means I can save you." Squeezing her beneath me, I reassure her despite our situation.

The gunshots stop, and the silence is deafening. There is no hum of the bustling city street. The only sound is that of Layla's shaky breaths.

"Shhhh," I whisper against her as I reach my reach for the knife I keep stowed underneath my seat. Gripping it in my palm, I pull it into my lap and wait. "I need you to be still and stay quiet. No matter what, keep your head down and your eyes closed for me."

My fingers flex around the handle of my blade and I listen to the crunch of glass as they approach until the crackle against the pavement is immediately behind me. Firmly fisting the blade, I push myself off Layla and shove my knife through my now missing window, straight into the gut of the man standing at my car door .

A single grunt has barely pushed from him by the time I've withdrawn the blade and created two additional holes in his abdomen. Blood pools across his shirt as I shove open the door, forcing him to stumble backward when it slams against him.

Scrambling from the car, I push to my feet as another man rushes toward me, trying to replace the clip in his gun. I lunge toward him, closing the distance between us before he can reload. With a violent swing of my arm, I slice through his throat so hard that I can feel thud of the blade scraping across the bone of his spine. His blood sprays across me, and he claws at his throat, futilely trying to close the wound as he crumples to the ground.

I turn, looking for the two remaining men, only to find myself in the bear grip of one of them. His friend throws a fist into my gut, and I heave as it knocks the wind from me. He drives another fist into me before glancing into the car. Upon seeing Layla, a devilish glint flicks in his eyes, and I immediately see red.

Throwing my head back, I break the nose of the man ensnaring me, and he loosens his grip long enough to allow me the opportunity to plunge my knife into his thigh. He screams when my blade tears through his femoral artery. Ensuring he'll be dead in minutes.

I charge the final man, using my body to slam his into the side of the car. Using my knife to riddle him with holes, I rage, "You will all learn to stay the fuck away from her."

Tires squealing to a stop pull my attention, and I spin on my heel, ready to take on another car full of them. But instead, I find Conor and Liam racing toward me .

"Layla. Get Layla," I demand with a heavy breath before mumbling, "I don't want her to see me like this."