"Shoot to stop her, not kill!" Garrett's growl echoed through the woods, followed by whistling sound of bullets which whooshed past like mosquitoes.
I sucked in a sharp breath and continued forward, praying none of the sporadic bullets would reach me. The densely growing trees shielded me, but I knew this luck wouldn't last forever. I pushed myself to the limit, and beyond, ignoring my raw, bare feet, the torn skin of my wrists and my throbbing head.
I didn't know where I was running to. I could barely see anything in the gathering darkness but they couldn't see much either. The problem was, outrunning them all seemed impossible and stopping meant a slow, horrible death. I was still an infant in the world of mafia, but I knew well enough that a death which would "send the right message" most likely meant a slow, horrible death.
"These woods go for miles, princess. Don't think you can escape all of us," Jackson's voice came out in a loud sneer.
