Free Inside Danger (Outside The Ropes Book 2) by Ashley Claudy

towards me. “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Probably speed things up. I’ll take you to the house and then figure out.” He flicked his barely smoked cigarette out the window as the light turned green.
    We turned onto the back road that led to Rusnak’s compound. The roar of motorcycle engines drowned out the heavy metal that Demetri listened to.
    Turning around, three black bikes popped into view directly behind us, out of nowhere.
    “Fuck.” Demetri leaned forward, pulled a gun from under the seat and gave it to me. “Take the wheel.”
    He twisted back before I even responded. I grabbed the wheel as the car started to veer off the road.
    One of the motorcycles broke from the pack and sped to our side. The helmeted rider reached one arm into his leather jacket. I jerked the wheel, hitting the motorcycle before the man removed his hand.
    The car ricocheted off the bike. I dropped the gun to grip the wheel with two hands and right us on the road, the impact vibrating through me. The bike, empty of the rider, skidded on its side off the road into the grassy ditch. The other two bikes were still behind us.
    The back window shattered and I ducked low, but kept both hands on the wheel as Demetri accelerated the car, aiming a shotgun out the back.
    I took everything in at once. The road in front of me, empty. Only one bike left behind us, but the rider had a gun aimed at our car.
    Demetri fired, just as the gun in the motorcyclist’s hand sparked. In an instant, the rider fell off his bike, rolling as it tipped over and flipped into the ditch. Demetri grabbed the wheel, whipping the car in a tight u-turn that forced me to grip the seat and ceiling to stay put, a hurricane of adrenaline tearing through me.
    The car picked up speed as we approached the only human mass on the road, our headlights spotlighted on the man as he raised himself up on his elbows. Then he was under the car, a sick thump and squishy crack as the wheels rolled over him—front then back.
    The car screeched as Demetri hit the brakes, slamming us to a stop. My arms were out, bracing the dashboard to keep from smashing into it, but not enough to keep me from whiplash.
    He backed the car up and stopped, stepping out into the night with a gun in hand. He walked over to the body and shot once, it barely made a sound. Then he walked down the road and fired the gun into a ditch too deep for me to see in.
    Sliding back into the driver’s seat, he said, “One more, there.”
    He drove slow to the first driver, the one I had hit with the car. He didn’t get out, but extended his arm out the window and shot down the embankment. The body jerked as the bullet hit the exposed neck, blood exploding from the spot. But the way the body was twisted, especially the angle of the head, made me think the bullet useless. He was already dead.
    “Get out. Help me lift,” Demetri said, exiting the car.
    My adrenaline didn’t leave much room for thought, it whipped through me, keeping me alert and steady.
    He opened the trunk as I rounded the back of the car and handed me gloves and a box of trash bags. Opening the one in his hands, he lined the trunk then taped it down with masking tape. The fact that Demetri drove around with this stuff in his trunk gave me an odd sense of comfort.
    Following his lead, we worked together to line the entire space with three layers of trash bags. Then we approached the body and Demetri checked the pockets and pulled out a wallet, sliding it into his own coat.
    I held my breath as Demetri grabbed his arms and I grabbed his legs. We lifted the stiff body into the trunk and I forced my thoughts down, knowing I couldn’t handle any of this if I paused to think. We did the same with the other two men, Demetri pausing to take their wallets as well. We tossed our gloves on top of them before closing the trunk.
    Wiping his hands on his pants, he turned to me. “We’ll come back for the rest later.” He spoke as if we were talking about