Collateral Blood

16

Sloan sat in the passenger seat of the black SUV as they began the long drive back to the warehouse. The tension from the call with Zayn still lingered in the air, but the morning sun filtering through the windows provided a false sense of calm. Sloan couldn't help but steal glances at Harry as he drove. His jaw was tense, muscles tight with focus. She traced the sharp lines of his features with her eyes—the strong jawline, the tousled brown hair that fell over his forehead, and the striking green eyes that seemed to catch every detail on the road ahead.

She hated that she noticed these things. This man kidnapped you, she reminded herself. He's dangerous. But no matter how much she tried to focus on that, her thoughts kept drifting back to the moments of vulnerability she'd seen beneath his hard exterior. The contradiction between the ruthless criminal and the man she now found herself inexplicably drawn to was maddening.

Her mind was still wrestling with those conflicting emotions when she noticed something in the rearview mirror. A vehicle—a black sedan—had been following them for several miles. At first, she thought it was just a coincidence, but the car never overtook them, never made any moves to change lanes or turn off the road.

"Harry," Sloan said, her voice edged with concern. "That car behind us... I think it's following us."

Harry's gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, and his expression darkened. "Good catch. You're right. They've been tailing us for a while now."

Sloan's pulse quickened. "What do we do?"

Harry's eyes remained fixed on the road, his voice steady but urgent. "There's no room for panic, Sloan. This is where you need to prove yourself."

Sloan felt her stomach drop as Harry continued, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. "Reach behind me and get the gun from my waistband."

She froze, her hands trembling at the thought. "I-I can't... Harry, I've never—"

"You said you wanted to help in any way you can," Harry interrupted sharply. "If you can't do this, you lose your privileges. You go back to being a hostage—no freedom, no input. This is your chance to prove you're serious about being on my side."

His words hit her like a slap in the face. She'd made a choice, hadn't she? To turn against her father and side with Harry. But the thought of holding a gun, of using it, terrified her. She wasn't made for this world—she was just a server at a restaurant, not someone who could wield violence.

Sloan stared at him, heart pounding, trying to gather her courage. "I... I don't know if I can."

Harry's gaze flicked to her for a split second, his eyes hard. "If you want to be useful to me, you'll find a way."

Be useful to him, she repeated in her mind. This is your way in. This is your revenge.

Sloan let out a shaky breath and reached behind him, her fingers brushing the waistband of his jeans. The contact with his skin sent a flush of warmth through her that she immediately tried to ignore. She was close enough to feel the heat of his body, to catch a faint whiff of his cologne—earthy and clean. It made her head spin, but she pushed the thought away. This wasn't the time for distractions.

Her fingers found the grip of the gun, cold and heavy against her palm. She hesitated for a moment, then pulled it free, feeling the weight of it settle in her hands. The reality of what she was holding sent a wave of nausea through her.

"Good," Harry said, his voice low but approving. "Now, listen carefully. I need you to lean out the window and aim for the front wheel of the car following us."

Sloan's eyes widened. "You want me to shoot at them?"

"Exactly," Harry said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You don't need to hit anyone. Just aim for the front wheel. Take out their tire, and they won't be able to follow us anymore."

Her heart raced as she turned in her seat, staring at the car behind them. Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold the gun steady.

"I can't... I'm going to miss, Harry," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"You won't miss," he said firmly. "Just aim and pull the trigger. Do it, Sloan, or we're both in trouble."

Sloan took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She rolled down the window, the rush of wind filling the car. Her hands shook as she gripped the gun tighter, aiming it out of the window. The car was gaining on them, and she knew this was her only chance.

"Now," Harry urged. "Do it now!"

With a burst of adrenaline, Sloan squeezed the trigger. The sound of the gunshot echoed in her ears, deafening in the small space of the SUV. She missed. The bullet hit the road, sparking against the pavement. Panic surged through her, and she gritted her teeth.

"Again!" Harry commanded, his voice hard. "You've got this. Focus."

Sloan steadied her hand, closed one eye, and aimed again. She pulled the trigger, and this time, the bullet hit its mark. The front tire of the sedan exploded, and the car swerved violently before veering off the road.

She dropped the gun into her lap, her entire body trembling from the shock of what she'd just done. Harry glanced over at her, a look of approval crossing his face.

"Well done," he said, his voice calm but laced with satisfaction. "You've just saved us both."

Sloan didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified. She had just fired a gun for the first time in her life, and though she hadn't hurt anyone, the knowledge that she'd been capable of such violence weighed heavily on her. She felt a mix of fear, pride, and an odd sense of exhilaration.

Harry reached over and took the gun from her lap, sliding it back into his waistband. "You did good, Sloan. This is what it means to be part of this world. You handled yourself well."

Sloan leaned back against the seat, her heart still racing. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this."

"You will be," Harry said with a quiet confidence. "You've taken your first step. There's no turning back now."

As they drove on, the tension began to ease, but Sloan couldn't shake the image of the car swerving off the road, couldn't forget the weight of the gun in her hands. She had chosen this path, and now she was in it, whether she was ready or not.