Devil's Advocate: A Dark Mafia Romance (Devil's Playground Book 1) by Vivi Paige (learn to read activity book TXT) 📕

gun-bearing hands exposed. I ain’t no trick shot, so I didn’t hit nothing but metal. I did make them duck out of sight and stop trying to kill me for a minute, though.

Unfortunately, they had backup. The van doors opened and three more mooks piled out. I knew these guys, street soldiers on the Loggia payroll. One of them had a friggin’ Uzi, which sent a profusion of sparks all around me as he squeezed off a long burst.

I fired back when I could, but I was getting low on ammo. The fire escape only provided so much cover, and I cringed when I saw the two guys who’d originally been on my tail running around the front of the building.

They were going to try and work their way inside to the fire escape, and pinch me between themselves and their Loggia buddies. I remember thinking I was probably on my way out. I couldn’t get up and flee on account of the three guys blasting at me from the alley.

Another shot rang out, and I heard the sound of broken glass. I risked a peek at the alley and saw the Loggia goons ducking behind their van, which now had a spiderweb crack in its windshield.

Someone was backing me up. And they were a lousy, lousy shot. Another shot rang off the fire escape, and a third flattened the van’s tire.

But you know what they say about never underestimating the value of a well-timed distraction. I took aim and popped a shot at Mr. Uzi. He fell over, with a nice new third eye bleeding out of his forehead. His fellows tried to get a shot at me, but it was too late. I stood up and gunned them both down.

The smoke hadn’t finished curling from my barrels when I peered down the alley and spotted my savior.

I about shit myself when I saw who it was.

Sophie.

What the hell is she doing, trying to get herself killed?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Indro

I thrust my pistols into my pockets and stared out toward the end of the alley, my face contorted with rage.

“Sophie!”

She looked up at me, her eyes growing wide. The gun in her hands drifted down until the barrel pointed at the pavement.

“Indro, are you all right?”

“All right? No, I’m not all right! Have you been following me?”

My anger at Sophie for putting herself in danger overwhelmed any gratitude I should have felt. I remember being surprised at how angry I really was. I mean, if she was just another skirt, albeit one hell of a lay, why was I so upset?

Sophie made as if to walk into the alley. I shook my head.

“No, stay put. Don’t you fucking move. I’m coming down.”

Sophie froze as I swung my legs over the rail and stepped onto the spring-loaded ladder. It trundled down with a rattle to deposit me in the alley. I turned around and stalked toward her.

“Indro…” she said when I was about twenty feet away. I’ll never know what she was going to say next, because a ratty-looking white van screeched to a halt behind her.

Sophie spun around as the two mooks who’d disappeared earlier burst out of the rear of the van. She managed to squeeze off a round before they nabbed her, but it went wide and shattered the cover of a streetlight. The pieces clattered to the ground as I tore toward the van at a dead run.

I hauled out one of the Berettas, but I didn’t dare fire for fear of hitting Sophie. They dragged her into the back and slid the door shut. I ran into the street as they laid down some rubber.

“Damn it,” I snarled. “Fuck!”

What could I do? There was an empty van with the engine running back down the alley, but it had a flat tire. By the time I reached it, the thugs would be long gone with Sophie anyway.

Fortune smiled on my good-looking ass. Some guy overcompensating for something—probably a tiny dick—rumbled his green and white crotch rocket to a halt across the street. I pulled my scarf up over the lower half of my face and trotted toward him. He hadn’t even turned the engine off when I ran up and jammed my gun in his face.

The guy may or may not have had a small dick, but at least he wasn’t stupid. He gave me no trouble, getting off the bike and putting his hands in the air. I leaped onto the back, hoping it functioned similar to a Harley, which I’d ridden before.

To my delight, the throttle setup was almost identical, though the shifter was on the handlebars. Good enough, I could manage.

“Thanks for the wheels,” I snapped before opening up the throttle. The van disappeared around a corner as I shot off like a bat out of hell.

I underestimated the power of the Japanese bike. I laid the damn thing down when I took the corner and slid along the pavement to slam into a parked car. I cursed up a storm as I righted the bike, ignoring the road raspberry on my shin as I did so.

I shot off after the van, grimacing as it raced through an intersection just as the light changed from yellow to red. I had no choice but to follow. The crotch rocket propelled me into the intersection as a massive truck bore down on me. I watched my reflection grow larger in its grill but just made it past without being pulped.

My heart hammered in my chest. Sophie, they had Sophie. I had to get her back, no matter what. I wasn’t even thinking about what would happen to my murder trial without her. I was solely focused on getting her back.

I saw the rear window of the van shatter. A pistol thrust out from the newly open window and jumped, spitting fire and smoke. A sharp crack, and I lost my sideview mirror. It fell to the pavement and shattered into a million pieces.

Seven years of bad