Chapter 11 - Marco's Move|
Before the masked man could swing, Marco slammed his foot on the brake.
The heavy armored SUV groaned as it slowed down instantly, causing the trailing black sedan to overshoot us by twenty feet. Marco whipped the steering wheel hard to the right, crashing our heavy front bumper straight into the sedan's rear quarter panel.
CRASH.
Metal shrieked against metal. Sparks flew into the rainy night air as the black sedan spun violently out of control, hitting the concrete median and coming to a dead stop with its front wheels crushed.
Marco didn't stop to admire his work. He hit the gas again, speeding down a side street toward a secluded residential neighborhood.
"Is everyone alright back there?" Marco called out, looking in the mirror.
I pushed myself up from the floor, checking on Rosa. The old woman was remarkably calm, adjusting her silver hairpins as if we had just hit a minor pothole.
"I'm fine, Marco," Rosa said smoothly. "Though your driving leaves a bit to be desired."
Marco let out a brief, rare chuckle. "Sorry, Mama Rosa."
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the hidden driveway of a quiet, gated brick house surrounded by high oak trees. Two armed guards stepped out from the shadows, recognizing the vehicle and opening the garage doors immediately.
We parked inside, safe behind reinforced steel doors.
Marco hopped out and opened our door. "We're secure here. Mr. Moretti is already on his way."
I helped Rosa out of the car, guiding her into the warm living room inside. My hands were still shaking from the adrenaline.
"You did well, Emma," Rosa murmured, patting my arm gently. "You didn't panic."
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"I was terrified," I admitted honestly.
"Bravery isn't about not feeling fear," Rosa said softly, setting her purse on the coffee table. "It's about doing what needs to be done anyway."
