Harlow looked out the window and gasped. “Easton, cable car!”

He gunned it, speeding through the intersection, just in front of the cable car.

They raced down the hill.

Her heart was hammering like a drum. She looked back and couldn’t see the SUV anymore.

She let out a shaky breath.

Suddenly, another SUV shot out a side street ahead of them.

“Look out!”

He slammed on the brakes and swerved. The Aston cut across the street and slammed into a parked car.

Harlow screamed. Metal crunched and glass shattered. There was a loud thump and she was violently thrown forward, face hitting the airbag.

Then suddenly, everything was still. Her ears were ringing, and her chest hurt where the belt had dug in. She blinked, trying to clear her head. She shoved the airbag out of her way.

“Easton?” She swallowed and turned her head.

He was slumped forward, not moving.

“Easton.” Oh God, blood was running down the side of his head. The windshield was smashed, and bits of glass glinted in his black hair.

“Please, be okay.” Frantically, she unclipped her belt and reached for him. Her hands were shaking. “God, Easton.”

He had blood over half his face. She touched his cheek and he moaned. Relief shot through her. He was alive.

“Easton—”

Her door was yanked open. Gasping, she spun in her seat.

A man reached in, gripped her arm, and dragged her out.

“Let me go!”

He was a big guy, stone-faced, with a bald head and a thick beard. He yanked her away from the car. Fear was slick and oily inside her, and she tried to pull away from him.

With a grunt, the man smacked her in the side of her head.

She saw stars and staggered. Jesus. She fought to think through the pain.

Then anger hit her. Easton was hurt. These assholes had chased them and made them crash. And they’d shot at them.

With a cry, she kicked the man in the leg.

He cursed.

Harlow kicked again, this time aiming between his legs.

She got lucky, with perfect aim, and she felt something squish. Ew.

The man made a strangled sound and bent over.

Harlow backed up. The man straightened and pulled a gun from under his jacket.

She froze. Oh, shit. Her heartbeat was a roar in her head.

“You’re coming with me, even if I have to put a bullet in you,” he growled.

“Who the hell are you?” she cried.

“Shut up.”

Car tires screeched nearby. She heard shouts.

Gunshots echoed through the night.

With a cry, Harlow ducked. The man threatening her shouted and clutched his chest. He crashed to the ground.

She spun.

And saw Antoine’s creepy cousin, Hugo, walking toward her, gun in hand and a smirk on his face.

Fuck. She took a step back.

Hugo fired.

The bullet whizzed past her. Her chest was too tight for her to scream.