Raven barely suppressed her grin as Dante's expression soured at her whispered confession. Came on my scooty. Need a ride? The idea of this six-foot-something, brooding nightmare of a man clinging onto the back of her bright pink scooter was the most entertainment she'd had in days.
Dante's stare was flat and unimpressed, his jaw ticking with restraint. "I'd rather get shot."
A gunshot rang out, pinging off the crate next to them.
"Guess what? You're getting on the scooty," Raven said sweetly.
Dante's nostrils flared, but the sound of approaching footsteps yanked them both back to the present. The goons were getting closer.
They needed to move. Fast.
Raven's eyes darted around the warehouse, searching for any viable escape route. The main doors were a death trap. The men clogged all available entries, the beams of their flashlights lighting over crates and machinery, scouring for action. Then she saw it—abandoned maintenance ladder affixed to the wall in the far distance, stretching to a dilapidated catwalk. It crossed the warehouse, cutting in between discarded beams and crumbling stacks. It was nothing, really, but more than sitting to wait to get arrested.
She pushed Dante aside and pointed. He glanced in the direction she was pointing and gave her a barely perceptible nod.
Go.
Raven moved first, rushing out from behind the crate and running low. She could feel Dante's thudding footsteps behind her, matching her pace. The ladder creaked beneath her as she ascended, each groan making her fear it would betray them. As she pulled herself onto the catwalk, a shout came from below.
"There! On the ladder!"
"Well. That was fast," she muttered.
The men sprang into action, one of them raising a gun. A shot rang out, sparking against the metal rung inches from Dante's boot. He swore and scrambled up the last few steps, pulling himself onto the catwalk just as another bullet whizzed past his shoulder.
"We're sitting ducks up here," Raven whispered, heart pounding.
"No shit," Dante growled. "Move."
They ran along the catwalk, the rusty metal creaking beneath their feet. Additional bullets banged against the beams, reverberating through the warehouse. Raven peered over the side—if they fell, it wouldn't be a pretty sight. She could spot stacks of crates below, some sturdy, others fragile-looking at best.
A plan crystallized in her mind. A stupid, reckless plan. But those were her specialty.
She pushed an unsteady-looking crate and pushed it off the ledge. It came crashing down on the floor below with a resounding boom, kicking up a cloud of dust and splintered wood. More importantly, it distracted their pursuers long enough for them to make it to the emergency exit door on the next level.
Dante shoved his bulk against it, and the hinges, clogged with rust, let out a protest of squeals before ultimately collapsing. A wave of chill night air slammed into them as they staggered out onto a flimsy metal staircase down to the alley.
"We have to run," Dante instructed curtly.
"No need," Raven said with a self-satisfied smirk, already walking towards her scooty, parked just out of view behind a pile of shipping containers.
Dante gazed. "No. Not on your life."
"You've got a better plan, hotshot?" she goaded, kicking up the stand.
He looked over his shoulder at the warehouse doors, which were beginning to creak open as the goons flooded out. His nostrils flared, and with a look that shouted I hate everything about this, he swung a leg over the back.
"I swear to god, if you crash—"
"Hold on, big guy."
She revved the throttle.
The scooty jerked up and forward, its little engine groaning in protest as it bore two passengers—one of whom was decidedly not designed for it—through the alley. Dante, with all his bluster, had no option but to cling to her, his arms wrapped around her waist tightly as they shot onto the main street.
Behind them, their pursuers were piling into their own cars. A black van squealed onto the road, tires screaming as it took off after them.
"Faster," Dante growled.
"I am going faster! Do you see what I'm riding?" Raven retorted, the scooty's speedometer quivering at a heroic 35 miles per hour.
Dante exhaled slowly. "We're gonna die on a pink scooter."
Raven smiled. "What a way to go, huh?"
Dante cursed under his breath, looking back over his shoulder. The van was closing the gap. They'd be roadkill unless they lost them soon.
Raven acted on instinct. She turned hard, squeezing through a tight alleyway barely large enough for the scooty. Dante dodged just in time to avoid being clotheslined by a suspended fire escape. The van attempted to pursue, but the driver overestimated—the alley was too tight. Metal shrieked as the vehicle wedged itself between the brick walls, essentially removing itself from the pursuit.
Raven let out a whoop of exhilaration. "And that's how you make an exit!"
Dante wasn't impressed. "Drive. Faster."
They sped through the city streets, dodging parked automobiles and pedestrians until they finally arrived at an empty lot on the edge of town. Raven brought the scooty to a stop behind a decrepit warehouse, shutting off the engine. The sudden quiet was almost ringing.
Dante got down first, his movements stiff. He looked at her, his face unreadable. Then, without comment, he took hold of the bridge of his nose and blew out slowly, as if attempting to blow the last five minutes out of his head.
Raven, however, was smiling like a madwoman.
"That was incredible," she said, shaking out her arms. "We should do that more often.
Dante gave her a level stare. "I am never—ever—getting on that thing again."
She frowned. "Aww, c'mon, you looked so cute hugging me for dear life."
He stalked off, grumbling something about living in regret over all his life choices. "Next time, I'm driving."
"Next time? So you do wanna ride with me again."
Dante rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."
Before Raven could taunt him further, she felt the locket in her pocket. The rush of excitement dissipated, replaced by something more substantial.
She took it out, opening it. The small, creased photograph within glared at her. Valeria, smiling. Arm around a woman Raven didn't know.
Dante saw. His eyes narrowed. "That her?"
Raven nodded slowly. "Yeah."