Exposed : My Mountain Man Protector(26)

When we finally collapsed to the pavement, panting with shock and horror, I saw him. Angelo.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





He was striding toward us, his gun drawn. His smile was clown-like, his eyes glittering.



My husband.



“Blake,” I hissed, but he was already drawing his gun.



“Don’t come any farther,” he told Angelo.



Angelo stopped, his jeering gaze sliding to me.



“Claire, Claire, Claire, when will you learn? It’s not a good idea to turn on your phone when you’re on the run from your mafia husband, honey.”



I said nothing. I still couldn’t believe it was him. Angelo. The man with a gun pointed at me. My husband.



His laugh was a chilling, high sound.



“Knew you wouldn’t be able to stay off your beloved smartphone for long,” he said with a cocky shake of his curly-haired head. “I tracked it easy. Haven’t you heard of geo-tracking? Following you this whole time has been child’s play, and now I’m going to end it like an adult.”



He took another step forward. “Tell your boyfriend to lower the gun, or I’ll blow his head off.”



I glared at him and asked, “If you’re going to kill us either way, then what’s the point?”



Angelo shrugged. Clearly he hadn’t thought that far ahead.



I glanced from Blake to him. Neither looked ready to lower their gun.



My whole body was shaking. It couldn’t end like this, a showdown between the man who had saved me and the one who was trying to kill me, a fight to the death where I could lose everything.



I advanced toward Angelo, my arms raised. “Don’t hurt him, Angelo. It’s me you want.”



“Claire, what are you doing?” Blake demanded, fear in his voice.



I turned to him and mouthed “trust me” with a wink.



“Get beside me,” Angelo growled, and I did. I stopped beside his wifebeater- and tight-jean-clad form.



My husband’s black, hateful gaze was still on Blake.



“Not surprised Claire tried to replace me as soon as she could either,” he sneered. “Though I have to ask, man, what’s it like to sleep with another guy’s wife?”



Blake cocked his gun. “Shut your mouth. You’re not even worthy of talking about Claire.”



More ugly laughter slithered out of Angelo’s lips.



“Cute, really.” He turned to me. “You got yourself a little guard dog. One who doesn’t really know you at all, but that’s probably half the point, right?”



“Shut up, Angelo,” I growled, and he pointed the gun at me.



“Baby, baby. You should just be careful is all. I mean, soon you’ll be dead, so it doesn’t really matter, but this guy doesn’t even know you.”



“I probably know her better than you do,” Blake fired back.



“Oh?” Angelo said innocently, pointing his gun back at Blake. “So she probably told you about how she maxed out our credit card? How she spent whole days in front of the TV with every season of The Bachelor on repeat? How she had a nervous breakdown just a few months ago?”



Blake said nothing. I hung my head in shame.



“But you probably knew all that already. Who am I kidding?” Angelo said with a chuckle. “You could probably already tell by how down-to-earth Claire is.”



Neither of us said anything. I didn’t dare look at Blake, too afraid of what I’d see.



“But enough chitchat,” Angelo said, his voice going hard. “Lower your gun.”



Blake didn’t move.



“Lower your gun,” Angelo snarled. “I won’t ask again.”



His knuckles on the gun were white, his eyes narrowed in hate. All his concentration was on Blake, which was good for what I was about to do.



Angelo cocked the gun, and I ripped the pepper spray out of my pocket and sprayed him in the eyes. Shrieking, Angelo fired his gun off. Blake ducked, and I rushed back to him.



“Wait here,” he said as he rushed by, diving at Angelo.



The two men struggled in a ball of fists, grunts, and Angelo’s curses until, on top of Angelo, Blake slugged him in the face. Angelo’s head flopped back and then up again, and he furiously spat blood. Even as more of Blake’s blows descend upon him, still Angelo wouldn’t give up, his head jolting back every time like a jack-in-the-box. He laughed, letting out a horrible gargling sound.



“You’re lucky I trained her good for you,” he spat, and Blake punched him once more.



“You don’t deserve to even talk about her,” Blake growled. “Now do I have to punch you some more, or are you going to cooperate?”