Page 49 of Rami

At the thought of him, warmth spread through her, tingling her skin and promising to carry her from this hell. But she didn’t want that. Didn’t want to leave with the image of Rami when she could stay and have the flesh of him.

She let out a roar and fought—bucking and swinging until strands of her hair ripped from their fiery beds. She turned and sunk her teeth into his thigh, biting down with the ferocity of a pit bull, making her jaw ache. Obscenities rained down on her.

Whack!

His fist connected with her face and forced her back a few inches. He aimed the gun at her nose and she dove again, this time headbutting him in the groin.

He gasped and clutched himself, but before she could get to her feet, he caught her throat in his grip and fell on top of her. Every inch of his heavy body covered hers, and he squeezed his hand until the tendons in her neck threatened to snap.

Stars popped in front of her vision. Her head swam, spinning her on a violent roller coaster. Each gasp that left her lungs wasn’t replenished. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight. Her arms, legs, and torso were pinned to the ground. Her killer lay on top of her, bleeding out. His blood was hot on her abdomen, burning through her dress like lava. He let out a grunt, seemingly using the last of his strength to haul her with him to hell.

Her eyes flickered and a scream lay dying in her throat.

Wham!

The crunch of metal on bone cracked in the air. Blood oozed from her attacker’s split head. His mouth went slack and his soul left his eyes.

Her brain grappled to stay conscious and find out what had hit him. Then the hand around her neck loosened and oxygen rushed into her body.

Someone dragged the limp body off her. Rami stood over her, chest heaving and molten rage in his eyes. He bunched his fists as if it took great effort to rein in his fury.

Her dark angel.

CHAPTER 14

Rami vibrated as he shoved his gun into his waistband and bent to slip his hand beneath Ivy’s head. He lifted her a few inches from the pavement. Her cheeks were as red as apples, her hair wild. Stark fear clouded her eyes, and her lips trembled as she reached for him.

“Don’t get up.” He pressed a palm to her belly and fear paralyzed him. Blood drenched the front of her dress. He carefully moved his hand around her abdomen in search of a stab wound or bullet hole.

“It’s his blood. I-I’m fine.”

Her faint words made him whisper a silent prayer of thanks. But he couldn’t say more. Not yet. If he opened his mouth to acknowledge how grateful he was that she was unharmed, he’d have a damn breakdown. Despite her words, he slowly moved his hand over her body, continuing to search for wounds.

Cuts and scrapes littered her legs and forearms. Her chin was chewed up and bloody. The bastard had dragged her across the parking lot.

Rami glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop himself from yelling. Ivy’s hand clamped his wrist, and she pulled herself to a sitting position. “I’m fine.” She sent a terrified gaze to the man slumped a couple of feet away and scooted back, pulling her feet toward her.

“He’s dead.” Rami pointed to the guy’s glassy stare. The pool of blood pouring from his head soaked the parking lot.

He cupped her cheek, stealing her attention from the scene. “Look at me.” The command came out firmer than he’d intended. He couldn’t help it. It’d take hours for the adrenaline and anger to dissipate from his cells. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathed.

After Rami had told her to run, another guy had ambushed him in the lobby and gotten the upper hand long enough for one of the men to make off. By the time Rami had broken the other cocksucker’s neck, he didn’t know where to look.

He’d almost walked right by the parking lot. But Ivy’s scream had alerted him. Thank god.

“You saved me,” she whispered.

“Barely.” The heat of the sun rivaled the flames inside his body. He needed to run, to scream, to hit something—or just fucking kill again.

Ivy’s small hand wiggled into his palm, and he exhaled the stale air in his chest. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” It was a stupid question. Of course she was hurt. Wounds deeper than the superficial abrasions undoubtedly marred her psyche.

“Just a few scrapes.” She touched her chin.

He grunted because he couldn’t say anything reasonable. He caught her waist and hauled her to her feet. “We need to get out of here before more of them come.” And dammit, he’d parked at the front of the building. Walking all the way around would not only be difficult for Ivy, but it’d open them up to another attack if other cartel members were close.

“Can you walk?”

She kept her hand firmly in his and nodded. Despite the redness of her face, her lips were pale. She swiped her hand across her forehead, plastering more hair to her damp skin.

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