Chapter 161: Bad Odds

Naomi sat upright. "I can’t."

Tessa sighed. "You’re overthinking everything."

"And you’re not helping. I’ll call you tomorrow. Cramps are after my life." She tossed her phone onto the bed, undressed and made her way back toward the hot tub, her mind clouded for the rest of the night.

*****

Dorian was already on his way back from the venue.

The delivery had gone smoothly.

Naomi’s food had arrived intact, the client had been pleased and the empty insulating bag was now folded neatly across his back seat.

Not bad for a criminal lawyer.

He was almost home.

Just turning onto his street, one hand resting on the wheel while the fingers of the other tapped lightly against it to the rhythm of the music playing through the car.

He felt relaxed.

Then a car slammed into him from the side.

Metal screamed.

His body jerked hard against the seat belt as the Mercedes spun slightly, and the airbag exploded in front of him.

For several seconds, Dorian couldn’t hear properly.

Only ringing.

His chest hurt where the belt had caught him, and his head felt like someone had kicked it from the inside. "What the fuck..." He blinked rapidly, trying to get his bearings.

At first, he assumed it was an accident. Then, through the haze of the deployed airbag and fractured glass, he saw the other vehicle.

Two doors opened and two men stepped out. This was no accident. The warning from Marco hit him immediately.

The men started toward him.

His hand shot toward the glove compartment. He jerked it open, grabbed the firearm inside and shoved the damaged door outward.

Dorian stepped out, still disoriented but steady enough. He raised the gun. His arms locked into position and he aimed squarely at one of them.

Both men stopped immediately.

They had the lower halves of their faces covered, but Dorian could still see the surprise in their eyes.

Apparently, whoever had sent them had forgotten to mention that their target might not be defenseless.

Dorian kept the gun trained steadily on the man closest to him. "Give me one reason...Just one."

Neither man moved.

Because Dorian’s head was still spinning from the collision, his ears were ringing and his chest hurt like hell from the seat belt. He was in absolutely no mood to mince words with idiots tonight.

"Now, I’m going to ask you boys to calmly get back into your vehicle because you’re not collecting that bounty tonight. Do we understand each other?" Dorian tightened his grip. "You take one step forward and I’m dropping someone. Who will it be?"

Whoever hired these men had simply expected some arrogant lawyer in an expensive suit who would panic the second things became physical.

Unfortunately for them, Dorian had spent years sitting across from men who killed people for significantly less than whatever bounty had been placed on his head.

He knew how useful a gun could be.

What Dorian failed to do was scan his surroundings.

His mind was still trying to catch up after the impact. His vision wasn’t completely steady, and the constant ringing in his ears made it difficult to concentrate.

Normally, he would have checked every possible blind spot.

He had learned enough over the years to know better.

Tonight, he didn’t.

Dorian only realized his mistake when the man directly in front of him looked slightly past his shoulder.

His eyes shifted.

Just for a second.

Dorian caught it.

Fuck.

He swung around but it was too late.

A baseball bat came down hard against his hand. Pain exploded through his fingers. The gun flew from his grip and skidded across the pavement.

"Fuck!" Dorian stumbled sideways, clutching his hand as agony shot all the way up his arm.

Something in his fingers had definitely cracked. To be fair, he was a lawyer, not a frigging assassin.

Unfortunately, that excuse wasn’t going to help him much when there were suddenly three men instead of two.

The third man had clearly been waiting out of sight.

Dorian barely had time to register him before the first punch landed. His head snapped to the side.

Another fist drove into his stomach.

Dorian swung back instinctively and connected with someone’s jaw, but there wasn’t enough time to properly recover before the three of them came at him together.

A kick slammed into his thigh. Another caught his ribs.

He staggered backward against the damaged Mercedes.

One of the men grabbed at him, and Dorian drove his elbow backward hard enough to hear a grunt.

"Get the fuck off me!" He managed another punch but caught another hit him from the side. His vision blurred.

The man carrying the bat stepped forward.

Dorian saw the weapon rise before coming down and connecting with his stomach.

Pain tore through him.

He doubled over, and another blow landed across his back. Dorian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright even as the ringing in his ears grew louder.

Whoever had paid these men wanted him alive enough to understand the message.

Dorian lifted his arms, protecting his head as another kick connected with his stomach. He hit the ground hard. He was aware of almost nothing except pain. His side throbbed where the bat had landed, his fingers felt like they had been crushed in a door and the ringing in his ears had become so loud that it blurred everything else around him.

Then a gunshot cracked through the night.

One of the men attacking him dropped immediately, clutching his leg and screaming.

Another shot followed.

The remaining men scattered.

Dorian tried to lift his head, but his body had reached its limit. His vision swam badly enough that the streetlights doubled in front of him.

Voices broke through the haze. There were men shouting. Commands being barked.

Dorian frowned weakly as he listened. He could hear the Italian accents in the men’s voices. "Fucking mafia..." he muttered.

It was the last thing he managed before his eyes closed and everything disappeared.

*****

Naomi jerked awake to the sound of her phone blaring beside her. She had deliberately turned the ringtone almost painfully loud before falling asleep because she was waiting for Dorian to call.

He had never come home.

The logistics company had confirmed the food arrived safely. The client was happy. Everything had gone perfectly.

Except Dorian had vanished somewhere between delivering the order and coming home.

Naomi had called him several times. She had sent messages. She tried to stay calm.

Maybe he had gotten another mystery client. That had happened before.

Naomi had eventually gone downstairs and curled up on the living-room sofa because she wanted to hear the garage door the moment he returned.

At some point, exhaustion had taken over. Now her phone was screaming beside her.

Naomi grabbed it immediately. "Hello?"