by Zoe Blake
Vaska nodded to the Escalade parked about twenty-five yards from the stable entrance. “As soon as you reach the crest, I’ll start laying down suppression fire. When you’re close enough, I’ll hit the gas tank. So watch for the big boom.”
Dimitri tossed me a red bandana. We each tied one around our necks. I tucked an extra one into my back pocket.
I instructed, “After we breach the stable, take out anyone who goes in or out.”
Vaska winked. “Just make sure those bandanas are visible.”
Since both Dimitri and I were wearing black, as was Yelena, it would be difficult during a fire fight to differentiate us from Santiago’s men who were also in dark fatigues. The red bandanas would alert him.
Dimitri clapped Vaska on the back. “See you on the other side my friend.”
“Try not to die today. Emma would never forgive me. She looks sweet, but she’s hell on wheels when she’s angry.”
Dimitri laughed. “And we both know what Damien’s girl is like when she gets pissed.”
They, of course, had both learned from Gregor about the knife wound and the brick to the head, which only made them love Yelena before they had even met her.
“You cannot fault the girl for doing what we’ve all fantasized doing ourselves,” Dimitri taunted.
Vaska placed his hand on my shoulder. “She may not be officially Russian, but she is Russian in spirit. Do not worry, my friend. Chances are that piece of shit Santiago is the one who needs rescuing from her!”
His smile was strained. We both knew that wasn’t true. The Columbians were ruthless bastards who’d rip a child from a mother’s breast and kill it if it suited their purpose. If Yelena was still alive, there was no telling what condition I might find her in. There was no way to prepare myself mentally for that kind of situation other than to know deep in my gut that I loved her, and if she were alive, the rest we could tackle together.
I just needed her to be alive.
Hang on, babygirl. I’m coming for you.
Vaska pulled out his flask. He held it high. “Chtoby stoly lomalis' ot izobiliya, a krovati ot lyubvi.” After wishing us a classic Russian toast of tables that break with abundance and beds that break from love, he then drank deeply and handed it to me.
“Za nashu druzhby.” To our friendship. I took a swig and passed it to Dimitri.
“Za uspekh.” To success, Dimitri toasted before doing the same. He grimaced and shook his head. “Damn you, Vaska, and your cheap taste in vodka.”
“This is man’s work. You need a man’s vodka!” Vaska protested before he took another swig and returned the flask to a side pocket.
Dimitri and I met gazes. After a nod, we started down the hill, keeping to the tree line. Within minutes, we were crossing the open field area. The stable was still about three hundred yards off. All was quiet. Vaska, who was watching through his scope up on the ridge, would wait until he saw signs we were spotted before he fired. The closer we got to the stable, the better.
Keeping our bodies as low as possible, we hurried across the field.
By the time we heard the first cry of alarm, it was too late for the man. A bright burst of crimson exploded from his chest as Vaska fired.
Since we’d been spotted, there was no point in being coy. Dimitri and I both started running at full speed toward our target.
“Right. Two o’clock!” Dimitri shouted.
Lifting my right arm, I took out the assailant with a head shot over a hundred-fifty yards away.
Suppression fire popped behind us. Vaska mowed down three of Santiago’s men before they even had a chance to raise their M16 automatic rifles.
We were within fifty yards of the stable. The Escalade parked nearby suddenly rocked. I knew that meant Vaska had hit it, and within half a second, it would blow.
“Get down!” I shouted.
Dimitri and I both hit the ground and covered our heads.
The luxury SUV exploded in a ball of fire, sending burning shards of metal and glass flying.
Looking up, I saw one man who had taken cover behind a tractor start to rise to his feet. Closing one eye, I aimed and fired, hitting his ankle from between the massive tires. He hit the ground. I fired a second time, taking him out.
A Jeep came roaring up from around the corner. It stopped in front of the stable doors, blocking them. A man jumped into the back while another positioned a machine gun on the roof.
It was an M134 GAU-17 Gatling gun. It was nicknamed the Vulcan cannon; it was a six-barreled machine gun capable of firing as many as six thousand rounds per minute. It was usually only used in military aircraft for suppression fire that needed increased range and projectile lethality.
I motioned to the left, then Dimitri and I both took cover behind the smoldering metal frame of what was left of the Escalade.
Dimitri cursed. “Who the fuck was dumb enough to sell these assholes a goddamn Vulcan?”
Replacing the empty magazine in one of my Glocks, I ground out, “When this is all over, I’m going to find the bastard and beat the crap out of him.”
We may have been illegal arms dealers, but there was a certain code among the better ones. You didn’t sell big guns to little boys. In the end, it wasn’t worth the trouble. They invariably caused problems and kicked up messes that caught the attention of the authorities, which increased the chances of heat on our operation. I had no problem selling guns and bombs to dictators, despots, and drug kingpins. It was all just business to me. But selling a gun that was too much firepower to someone who didn’t know how to use it was dangerous. There was no fucking reason why some thug like Santiago and his crew, who mainly ran racetrack, drug, and kidnapping schemes, needed an anti-aircraft Gatling gun in the middle of Farmville USA.
If they fired it in the direction of Vaska up on the ridge, they could be over twenty-five yards off the mark and still kill him.
“You ready?” asked Dimitri.
I nodded. “Yeah, cover me.”
Dimitri stayed low, spraying the Jeep with distraction fire as I went high. Taking the extra half second, I took aim and fired. The bullet went straight through the left eye of the man standing behind the gun. A sickening burst of brain matter, bone, and blood burst from behind his head.
We both ducked behind the remnants of the truck.
“One more?”
“Yeah.”
Dimitri fired again.
This time, I aimed down the barrel of the gun, the only way to disable the gun from a distance without matching it in firepower. Breathing out slow and steady to calm my heartbeat, I closed my eye, aimed, and fired. Less than a quarter of a second later, the gun exploded.
Dimitri laughed. “You motherfucker. We’ll never hear the end of it now.”
He was right. When we got out of this mess, I would make sure to remind them as often as possible of the impossible kill shot I'd just gotten off. This beat the time Gregor took out a moving target in Uzbekistan at over eight hundred yards with only a second-generation model Glock.
The stable yard fell silent.
Before Santiago’s men had a chance to regroup, Dimitri and I ran for the stable doors and braced ourselves on either side. I raised an arm and fired at the padlock and chain keeping the doors closed. We paused. Then with a shared nod, we each grabbed a handle and pulled the doors open along the track. The ten-foot-tall doors easily slid back along the stable wall. We waited again. Nothing.
We knew this was not the only entrance to the stable. There was a good chance there were more men inside guarding Yelena.
Hopefully Santiago himself.
My jaw tightened.
Him, I would personally kill.
Slowly.
“On three,” Dimitri mouthed.
I nodded.
One. Two… three.
We swung into the doorway. The interior was dark and shaded. It took a moment for our eyes to adjust. We heard movement to the right and both swung. Arms raised. Guns at the ready. With the sun gla
re, we didn’t see him in time. He got off several rounds, one of them striking Dimitri in the thigh.
He stumbled but caught himself against the door frame.
I turned and fired. Killing the man.
Keeping my eyes trained on the interior for any movements in the shadows, I called out, “Dimitri? You okay?”
He groaned. “Yeah. Just a flesh wound.”
Hazarding a glance over my shoulder, I looked at his leg. Fresh blood had already soaked his pant leg. Grabbing the red bandana from my back pocket, I tossed it to him. He caught it with one hand. “Tie it off.”
That was supposed to be for Yelena. I would just have to make sure she was close to my side and Vaska’s aim was true when we made a run for it.
When Dimitri was ready, we took our first few steps down the wide, dirt-packed aisle. Agitated horses stomped and shook their heads in stalls to the right and left of us.
“Yelena!” I called out.
No answer.
“Yelena, answer me!”
Nothing.
My heart seized.
Chapter 32
Yelena
The barrel of the gun pressed harder against my temple.
I glared up at Santiago. He placed a finger against his lips as he gave me a wink.
My stomach churned.
On the other side of the stable, Damien continued to call out my name. Each time there was a loud crash then the sound of splintering wood. If I had to guess, he was kicking open each of the empty stall doors, looking for me. It was only a matter of time before he reached us.
My heart raced. My fingers were curled into fists so tight my nails dug painfully into my palms. I didn’t know what to do. If I called out, Santiago would kill me. If I didn’t call out, he was probably going to kill me anyway.
My decision was made.
Either way, Damien would be warned and that was all that mattered.
I took a deep breath, then screamed with all my might: “He’s got a gun!”
Santiago raised his gun and struck me with the edge of the handle.
Pain exploded in my head, momentarily blinding me with a white flash. A small trickle of blood oozed over my right eye. I swiped at it with my free left hand.
The wooden gate to my stall crashed open. Damien stood there looking like a vengeful god… or better yet, a vengeful demon. He was dressed all in black. His front was covered in dirt and mud. Even though it had only been a few hours since I had been captured, he looked like he had aged twenty years. There were shadows around his eyes and deep lines of tension around his mouth. I had never seen him look so filthy and tired… and handsome as hell. Never in my life would I think any other man was as beautiful or sexy as Damien Ivanov was in this very moment.
He had come for me.
For me!
Unwanted and unloved Yelena Nikitina. Me.
There had never been a doubt in my mind that he would come. My wonderfully stubborn Scorpio.
His dark eyes practically glittered with malice as he looked first at Santiago then me. I was kneeling prone at Santiago’s feet, my right hand still handcuffed to the iron ring. I could tell the moment Damien saw the blood matted in my hair and running down my cheek.
“I’m fine,” I mouthed. I didn’t want him to get so upset he lost focus. There would be time to worry about my injury later.
“I’m going to get you out of this, babygirl,” he said, his voice low and gruff with emotion.
My eyes filled with tears. I could only nod, afraid to speak.
Santiago taunted him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Damien took a step forward as he raised his gun.
Behind him, I could see a second large figure who kept his back to us, watching for any more of Santiago’s men. He looked like Vaska, but I couldn’t tell with him turned away. All I did know was he was roughly Damien’s size and equally as muscled and tattooed.
Santiago grabbed my ponytail and wrenched my body up. He placed the gun barrel against my temple again. This time pressing into the fresh wound. I cringed and hissed air through my teeth as my body braced against the pain.
Damien let out a low growl.
Santiago cocked his head to the side. “Careful. You wouldn’t want me to blow her pretty head off now, would you?”
Forced to lower his gun, Damien’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a dead man.”
Santiago laughed. “I do not think so. I have more men on their way. It is you who will die today.”
“Let her go. This is between you and me.”
“It was between you and me. Imagine my delight when I learned that the pretty woman who had been causing me such an annoyance over these last few years was the very same woman you yourself were trying to track down. Fate… she smiled on me that day.”
My body started to tremble with fear. I clenched my jaw as I tightened my abdominal muscles, trying to still the tremors. I needed to appear calm so Damien could focus on Santiago. The last thing I wanted was him worried or distracted over me.
I also didn’t want to draw any attention to myself as I slowly shifted my left arm behind me. Using my fingernails, I continued to scrape and scratch at the small flat head of a slightly loose nail. Finally, I felt the edge lift from the wood plank floorboard. Getting my fingernail under it, I pinched the top with my thumb and forefinger and pried it loose. Rolling the thin cylinder between my fingers, I realized I was in luck. The iron nail should be just thin enough to work. It wasn’t as good as a bobby pin, but I had left that behind in Damien’s safe house apartment when I'd gotten out of the pair of handcuffs yesterday.
Never in a million years did I think I would be grateful that my loser stepfather used to lock me up on a daily basis. It seemed my lock picking skills were coming in very handy lately.
Pretending to swipe at the blood at my eye, I transferred the nail to my right hand. This would be extremely difficult. My hand was hanging higher than my shoulder and at an awkward angle. If at any point Santiago turned in my direction, he would clearly see what I was doing. Still, I had to try.
Santiago sneered. “You thought you were such a big man, insulting me in front of my men, but I am the big man now.”
Damien fired back. “Kidnapping a defenseless female makes you a big man?”
My mouth twisted at the word defenseless. Damien cast me a quick apologetic look.
Santiago pressed the gun harder against my temple. “You! You are the idiot now! I’m the one who bested the great Ivanovs. It was so easy to take your woman from you. Like candy from a little baby.”
Damien’s shoulders tensed as he planted his feet more firmly. He adjusted his grip on his guns. “So what now, Santiago? If you are such a big man, what is your big plan now?”
The tip of the nail was inside the lock. I rolled it between my fingers, trying to feel for the pin.
Santiago’s voice rose a few pitches, showing his fear. “My men will be here any minute, and then I’m going to see you strung up by your thumbs. I’m going to force you to watch while I fuck your woman.”
He pulled on my hair as he made the threat. The sudden jerk to my head made me let go of the nail. My heart stopped. Thank God the shaft was far enough in the handcuff lock it didn’t drop to the floor. Gripping the small flat head, I continued to shift it around, waiting for the click.
Santiago continued to taunt Damien. “She will finally know what it feels like to have a real man between her legs.”
Inwardly, I shook my head, knowing I was staring up at a dead man. I knew the only reason why Damien hadn’t already killed him was because he was holding a gun to my head. If I could just get out of these cuffs, I could lunge free of him.
I caught Damien’s gaze and very deliberately shifted my gaze to the handcuffs. His nod was almost imperceptible to anyone but me.
Damien’s brow furrowed. “And who will that real man be?”
Santiago took the bait. Shifting the gun away from my head, he pointed at his chest. “Me
, asshole! I’m the real man!”
The handcuffs clicked.
The latch opened.
I slipped my wrist through and launched myself backward till I hit the far side of the stall.
Damien raised his arm and fired, hitting Santiago in the shoulder. He fired again, hitting him in the chest. Santiago fell backward. His body slumped down the wall, leaving a crimson streak along the cement column.
Damien fell to his knees before me. Dropping his guns to the side, his hands spanned my jaw as he tilted my head back. Before I could say a word, his mouth claimed mine. I melted into his embrace, drawing on the strength of his arms, needing it like my last breath.
He rested his forehead against mine. “My God, I don’t know what I would have done if I'd lost you.”
“Damien. I need to tell you….”
He smoothed my hair as his gaze rested on the wound along my hairline. His eyes hardened, and his lips thinned. “First, I need to get you out of this hellhole and to a doctor.”
I clasped his upper arms. “No! It can’t wait. I… I… I’m… I’m sorry about the knife… and the brick.”
“That is what couldn’t wait? You’re sorry about the brick?”
I bit my lip. I had wanted to say I love you but suddenly felt foolish. What would he think if I just blurted out those words?
Words I had never said to anyone.
Words I hadn’t heard anyone say to me since my mother died.
He’d think I was some silly stupid girl traumatized by the moment. After all, I hadn’t laid eyes on the man in three years. We had only been together for less than forty-eight hours, in the span of which I had run from him twice and tried to kill him several times.
How could he possibly believe that I loved him?
How could he possibly even want my love?
How could I make him understand that I had been a little in love with him since I was ten and he'd caught me stealing that silly tube of lipstick. That I had collected little Happy Meal toys ever since because they reminded me of the one moment in my life when someone seemed to care… when someone had stood up and tried to protect me.
How could I possibly put into words how he'd made me feel that night at Nadia’s party? When he was so gruff and overbearing and controlling but also protective and sweet. Would he think it silly if he knew that tucked into that backpack filled with money and jewels was the Hello Kitty toy and the I Heart Washington, D.C. t-shirt he'd bought me? Would he laugh if he knew I’d worn that t-shirt to bed practically every night for the last three years?