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Authors: Regina Cole

BOOK: GetOn
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Redmond dragged Mia backward toward the alley’s entrance,
where his pimped-out F-150 was waiting, engine idling. Garrett and Trent
followed at a distance, their guns trained on Redmond.

“Let her go right now, Redmond.” Garrett wasn’t sure how he
was managing to stay so calm. Inside, he was screaming with rage, ready to rip
this guy’s head off for daring to touch Mia. No matter how infuriating she was,
she was
his
, and she was in danger.

Never again. He’d sworn it. Never again.

“I won’t kill you this time,” Redmond said. “But come after
me again? We’re going to have problems, and
your
problem will be blood
running down the pavement. Yours, his, hers—you get me?”

He threw Mia aside and she hit the concrete block wall of
the building with force. Redmond jammed his gun into his pocket, leapt into his
truck and punched it down the alley and into the lot, tires squealing and
smoking.

Garrett yelled to Trent, “Take care of her!”

He sprinted to his Escalade, adrenaline thrumming through
his veins like angry fire. He jerked the door open and within seconds, he was
chasing after Redmond.

The trap had imploded. Redmond wasn’t going to lead them to
Ford. And more than that, the bastard knew Mia.

“Damn it!”

He glanced in the rearview mirror just before he peeled out
of the parking lot. Trent was quickly helping Mia to his car. He’d wanted to go
to her, pick her up, make sure she was okay, but he needed to follow Redmond
too.

Ford could do much worse to Mia than Redmond had. Much, much
worse.

Garrett gripped the steering wheel harder as he ran a red
light to keep up with the black pickup. This wasn’t about revenge anymore.

This was about protecting the life he wanted. The woman he
loved. The life that was fast becoming more important to him than his own.

He had to bring Ford down so he could start living. With
her. For her.

The engine roared as he floored it. “You’re not getting away
from me, asshole.” Garrett glared at the truck as it took a tight turn. He followed
it easily. Redmond would pay for laying a hand on Mia. And then he’d give
Garrett some information.

Whether or not Garrett had to beat it out of him, he didn’t
care. Redmond would talk, one way or the other. And then he’d apologize.

The second race was only twenty-eight hours away, and if
Garrett was right, someone was supposed to die there.

He couldn’t give up. Not now. He was too close.

And life was waiting on the other side.

Chapter Seventeen

 

Gravel ground into Mia’s kneecaps. Shock and pain flooded
her system as she tried like hell to figure out what had just happened.
Redmond’s tires squealed and from somewhere behind her, Garrett’s voice rang
out.

“Take care of her!”

Mia shoved off the ground, gasping as the pain in her
shoulder finally registered. That big redheaded asshole had thrown her right
into the wall.

She caught a glimpse of Garrett’s SUV as he tore out of the
parking lot. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow. And with the dark tinting on the
Escalade windows, she couldn’t even see him.

Trent was helping her into a classy but subtle BMW 645i. She
couldn’t really acknowledge him. She was too busy trying to process the fact
that Garrett had gone after Redmond alone.

“Mia, are you okay?” Trent looked her over, being careful of
her scraped knees and sore shoulder.

“No, I’m not okay,” Mia said, anger and anguish battling for
the upper hand. “He’s gone, Trent! Redmond is dangerous, and Garrett just
charged after him by himself.” She threw her hands in the air, frustrated. “I
don’t know what to do. I had a gun to my head and he
left
. And I can’t
help him, Trent, I can’t
do
anything. He should have stayed with us. Is
revenge really the most important thing to him? I’d thought…well, I’d hoped…”

Trent’s dark brows narrowed in concern. “It’s not like that,
Mia. You should know that. Garrett—”

“Garrett wants nothing in the world more than Art Ford. I
know that,
you
know that. And he wants Ford because of Priscilla.” Her
voice filled with tears, and she hated them. At the moment, she hated Garrett
for putting them there. “I know he cares about me. But he’d
still
rather
die for her than live for me.”

Trent didn’t answer, but from the way he looked blankly out
the window, Mia knew she was right. She hated that too.

“I’m sorry to ask you this,” Mia said, glancing out over the
nearly empty parking lot, “but I don’t want to be alone right now. I need to
get back to Garrett’s house and get my shit. Would you mind taking me?”

Trent nodded. “Of course. None of this is your fault.” He
gestured the way Garrett had gone. “I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking,
going after Redmond on his own, but there’s no way I’ll be able to catch them.”

He waited until she had buckled herself in before starting
the car. Once the electronic beep had sounded, signaling the ignition, Trent
looked over at her. “I’m going to be really honest with you here. This is bad.”

Mia winced. “I know, and it’s all my fault. I didn’t get
here fast enough to warn you.”

“I wasn’t talking about back there. I was talking about
Garrett.” Trent put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space.
“He’s been acting differently lately. Desperate. Rash. Almost as if he can’t
wait to throw himself at things.”

Mia looked into her lap, rubbing at the spots on her white
shorts. Must have happened when she fell. “When did this start?”

Trent gave her a glance before pulling out onto Lipscombe
Road. “Right after he met you.”

Her mouth opened in shock. “Then it
is
my fault,
right?”

“That’s not what I mean. You didn’t know Garrett before. He
used to be like that. Eager, motivated, kind of daring even. Then Priscilla got
killed, and ever since then, he went about things completely differently. He
was cold, detached, not emotionally invested in anyone or anything. He cares
about me and the guys, of course, but even friendship didn’t touch him.” Trent
blew through a yellow light, speeding up a little on the straightaway. The
powerful engine thrummed beneath her. “And now, it’s almost like he’s been
woken up. He’s making some mistakes, but even so, seeing him actually feeling,
actually living? It’s a good thing. But he’s not thinking clearly, and that’s
dangerous.”

“Living won’t be such a good thing if he gets his ass
killed,” Mia muttered as she stared out the window. Damn, the trees were moving
past them faster and faster. She looked at Trent. His face was dead serious and
his gaze kept flicking to the rearview mirror.

“Trent, what’s going on?”

“We’re being followed,” Trent said calmly as he kicked the
car into a higher gear. “Hold on.”

At the next intersection, Trent jerked the wheel right,
barely braking enough to take the turn. Mia held on for dear life as the car
careened on two wheels. Her heart in her throat, she looked back.

A black sedan was gaining on them.

“Trent, you’d better punch it,” Mia said, a warning note in
her voice. “They’re getting closer.”

“I know, I know,” he said through gritted teeth.

On a back road now, the BMW took the tight curves like a
dream, but the car behind them was obviously as well equipped under the hood.
Mia gripped the door handle for dear life, looking from mirror to Trent to
behind them and back, wondering what the fuck was going on.

“They must have been with Redmond,” she said aloud.

“Definitely.” Trent took another unexpected turn, throwing
Mia against the door, injured shoulder first. She cried out as pain blossomed
down her arm and across her back.

“Sorry.”

Mia gritted her teeth. “It’s okay. Just drive. We need to
get away from these assholes.”

Trent drove like a bat out of hell for the next half hour,
winding through subdivisions, lonely back roads, even hitting the interstate a
time or two. But the sedan was never far behind. Eventually, an SUV joined it.
And then another.

“It’s like the goddamn St. Patty’s Day parade,” Mia yelled
in frustration as yet another vehicle joined. “What the hell do they want from
us?”

“Hang on, Mia. We’re about to find out.” Trent nodded
straight ahead then slammed on the brakes.

Mia was thrown against the seat belt and back as the car
instantly responded to Trent’s command. She winced, rubbing at the soreness
between her breasts, but that wasn’t her biggest problem.

They’d run into a makeshift roadblock. Four SUVs crossed the
country road, all of them black. And there, in front of them, stood a white man
of medium height, with frosted tips in his perfectly styled blond hair. He was
too thin, smiling a toothpaste-ad grin and wearing clothes that were obviously
designer.

Mia hated the little weasel on sight, and that’s not just
because she was certain she was looking at the guy responsible for Garrett’s
pain.

“Well hey,” Ford called out, smiling even bigger, voice
carrying through Trent’s partially opened window. “Why don’t you guys get out
of the car and we can have a little chat?”

“Mia, listen to me,” Trent whispered, unbuckling his seat belt.
“This guy is lethal. Do what he says, okay? I’ll do my best to protect you.”

“Thanks, Trent,” Mia said with a quick toss of her hair.
“For everything.”

“Be careful,” he admonished, and they both got out of the
car.

“Hey yourself, Ford,” Mia called, bumping the BMW’s door
closed with one hip. “Nice to finally meet you.”

And as she walked toward the man responsible for Garrett’s
anguish, she plotted all the ways she’d like to kill this little turd.

If, of course, he didn’t kill her first.

* * * * *

Even though Redmond’s truck went through red lights, darted
around corners, went in circles, Garrett knew where this little chase would end
up. He’d been tracking Redmond for a long time now, and his hideout in Little
Five Points would almost definitely be their final destination.

Garrett flicked a glance at the SUV’s in-dash clock. It was
after seven now. The sun would be going down in just over an hour, and he
wanted to get to Redmond before then. Darkness wouldn’t be his friend in this
instance.

Making a quick decision, Garrett slammed on the brakes and
let the F150 take off without him. Slipping into a parking space on Smith
Street, Garrett pulled his cell from his pocket.

He needed to give Redmond the chance to relax, let himself
believe that Garrett had really stopped following him. And then? Garrett would
follow the rat right down into his hole. But since he had time, he’d call and
check on Mia.

Guilt clamped around the back of his neck as he turned on
his phone and dialed Trent’s cell. She was going to be pissed as hell that he’d
taken off after Redmond and left her. He prayed that she hadn’t been hurt too
badly. Even though he was now doing this to make sure they had a safe, long
life together, he very much doubted she’d see it that way.

He stared down the empty street as the cell rang in his ear.
Hmm.
The call dumped into voicemail. That wasn’t like Trent. Garrett
left a message anyway.

“T, it’s me. I’m following Redmond into his hideout, and
I’ll get the information from him one way or another. Please let me know that
Mia is all right. She probably wants to kill me right now, but all I care about
is getting her out of danger.” Garrett cleared his throat, a mysterious
thickness having somehow lodged there. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

Garrett cut the call and glanced at the clock again. Close
enough. Redmond would still be looking, but he wouldn’t be on high alert
anymore. This wasn’t exactly the subtle trap Garrett had in mind, but it’d have
to do.

Information was his, one way or another.

Two blocks away from Redmond’s hideout, Garrett ducked
behind an abandoned gas station. He cut the engine and checked the stash in his
vehicle.

He might be reckless at times, but he sure as hell wasn’t
stupid.

Bulletproof vest, Glock 22 Cut, Colt AR-15. He was loaded
and ready. Exiting the SUV, Garrett hoped like hell he didn’t have to kill
anyone today. It was too much damn trouble.

In the distance, horns honked, engines rumbled, voices
called. It was as if the usual hubbub of Little Five Points was there, but all
going on just far enough from this small, desolate patch of abandoned earth.
Gravel crunched under Garrett’s boots as he carefully made his way toward the
empty storefront Redmond had called his own for about six months now. Sweeping
his gaze back and forth, he made a careful study of the area. The last thing he
needed was another surprise. He needed to get in there, grab Redmond and get
him to talk, fast. Speed and silence were of the absolute essence.

Inwardly thanking himself for doing such a thorough case of
this place weeks ago, Garrett crept through a broken side window in the store
connected to Redmond’s. Shattered glass littered the scratched floor, empty
shelving units were stacked haphazardly against the walls. Being careful to
step along the edges of the room to avoid hitting any squeaking boards, Garrett
crossed the space.

Redmond’s voice was easy to pick out, his Southern accent
unmistakable. Garrett pressed his ear against the paper-thin wall. There was no
other voice answering Redmond’s. He was on the phone.

Chances were, he was alone. But he wouldn’t be for long.
Garrett would be joining him in just a moment.

Garrett unlocked the back door of the old shop and pulled
his gun before slowly, carefully pushing it open and entering the alley. The
small alley behind held Redmond’s truck, parked crookedly in a space meant for
delivery trucks. The other store’s back window still retained its glass, but it
was open a good six inches. Garrett flattened himself against the shop’s back
wall until he reached it. Ducking beneath, Garrett listened, then rose slightly
to get a visual.

This store was a little cleaner than the one next door, but
not by much. The carpeting had been ripped up, big ragged chunks piled by the
back door. A paint-splattered desk sat in the center of the rectangular room,
black plastic covering the plate-glass windows at the front of the store. And
there, with his back to Garrett, sat Redmond, still on the phone.

“…telling you, he looked familiar to me too. Yeah.”

Making use of Redmond’s distraction, Garrett worked to raise
the window as quickly and silently as possible.

“I roughed her up a little.” Redmond’s laugh sent a bolt of
pure rage right through Garrett’s body.

Keep cool, Garrett. You’ll make him pay, but not if you
spook him first.

“Okay. Sure, I think I could find him again.”

Garrett’s boots hit the floor without a sound. Keeping his
gun by his side, Garrett picked his way toward Redmond. Only feet separated
them now.

“Sure. Yeah, I’ll be there when I’ve got something for you.
Thanks, boss.”

The instant Redmond cut the call, Garrett’s arm wrapped
around his throat and his Glock went straight to Redmond’s temple.

“Nice to see you again,” Garrett said calmly, not sparing
any pressure on Redmond’s throat. The guy gagged, but Garrett wasn’t about to
let go. “How about you give me some information, and I won’t give this desk a
nice new coat of organic red paint?”

“I knew it,” Redmond hacked. “I knew you were a goddamn
front! Who are you working for? Ramirez?”

“I don’t work for anyone but myself. Who’s Ramirez? What
does Ford want with him?” Garrett growled the questions, pressing the gun hard
enough to Redmond’s temple that he was sure it’d leave a bruise. He deserved
that, and so much more, for laying a hand on Mia.

“You’ve got bigger problems than that, man,” Redmond
laughed, a wheezing, pathetic attempt thanks to his lack of oxygen. “I was just
on the phone with Ford. He killed your boy and he’s got your girl.”

“Don’t you
fucking
lie to me,” Garrett roared,
cocking the pistol. His hands were steady, even though his insides were
churning at the words.

“I’m telling the truth! I wasn’t there alone. My boys
followed your friend and the girl and they got ’em. Killed the guy, took the
girl hostage, and all because you’re messing where you shouldn’t be.” Redmond
relaxed against Garrett, and he tightened his forearm in response to the extra
weight.

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