Gunfire erupts all around, and within seconds, the two men are splattered in blood and slump down, unconscious, to the ground.
They were no match for our team.
The van door is half-open, revealing the girls, but they don’t move, frozen in fear or worried they’ll be shot.
The silence lasts merely seconds as more gunfire erupts in the distance.
Bullets whiz by, one of them slamming into the metal door of the van, and the brunette girl nearest the door hides farther back inside the van with the others.
They’re huddled together, terrified, cowering on the floor, afraid the bullets will penetrate the van.
So far, no one has shot the girls.
“We’re here to help,” I say, hoping they’ll trust us. I offer my hand, but the nearest girl shakes her head, unwilling to step outside.
Ashton is right beside me, his gun drawn. “See if the keys are in the ignition.” He shoots off a few rounds to keep us safe.
The van is parked beside the edge of a ravine. There’s no one stupid enough to hide down the mountainside, which grants me the opportunity to use the van as cover as I sneak around to the driver’s side door.
I try the doorknob and discover it’s unlocked. Opening it, there’s no sign of the van’s keys.
Bullets shatter through the window, forcing me to duck for cover.
Shit.
“No keys,” I shout at Ashton, hoping he has another brilliant plan, because this one isn’t it. “Do you know how to hotwire a car?”
I catch sight through the window of the passenger door of two of Massimo’s men moving in toward the van.
“Not while we’re getting shot at. We need to retreat.”
“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” I mutter and back the fuck up to get more cover.
One door at the back of the dirty white van remains open, peppered with bullet holes, but it still provides decent enough cover to keep from getting shot.
At least they’re not shooting at us while the girls are housed inside.
With our men shooting and momentarily gaining the upper hand, Halsey darts from behind the driver’s side door of his car to the van with us.
I’m expecting him to rattle off orders.
He glances into the vehicle, his expression grim. “Shit, there are a lot of them.” His gaze moves from the girls, slightly past the van’s back door, to the three other awaiting vehicles used for trafficking girls. “This is bigger than we anticipated.”
My mouth is dry. I don’t like hearing that the capo in charge is feeling like we’re not fully prepared for this fight.
“Please, help us,” one of the girl’s fragile voices echoes through the van.
Her voice reminds me of Harper, and it sends me reeling. We’re here to put an end to the DeLuca empire that’s risen and caused mayhem. Yet, I’ve seen no sign of the man behind the trafficking ring.
“Where the hell is Massimo?”
“If you find him, kill the bastard for me.” Halsey fires several more rounds before taking cover and changing the clip on his gun.
More gunfire fills the air, bullets hitting the van, and screams erupt from the girls as they cower and huddle together.
Their tears and cries for help are gut-wrenching.
How dare Massimo prey on innocent children, little girls, to run his sickening business.