Page 82 of Rami

Moments passed. Rami heard a creek trickling. It grew louder.

Voices followed.

“Shhh.” Rami snagged August’s shoulder, pulling him to a crouched position. “There,” he said, pointing twenty feet straight in front of them. The gentle crunch of leaves at Rami’s back told him Toth knelt behind him.

“Ahhh! My fucking eyes!” A man’s gurgling scream, pathetic and enraged, carried over the trees.

Rami inched closer to August’s side, his gun ready and heavy in his palm. August lay the tablet at his feet and trained his weapon on the scene ahead.

A form scrambled from the ground, dark hair disheveled and footsteps unsteady. Ivy. She stumbled forward, her hands grappling with the air as if she couldn’t see. Rami surged to his feet and broke into a run.

“Dude, wait!” August shouted.

But Rami didn’t slow. Her name churned in the back of his throat but he didn’t dare scream and alert the men pursuing her to his presence. Not when one bullet could end her. Rami pumped his legs and kept his gun trained on the targets beyond Ivy’s head. If his hand were steadier and his heart weren’t on the fucking line, he’d shoot.

He couldn’t risk it. Not until he reached Ivy.

She faltered again. Now that he was closer, he could see that her eyes were glazed over. Her knees sunk to the ground.

No!

Had she been shot? Fear scrambled his senses and he let out a roar. “Ivy!”

The men behind her jumped and locked their weapons on him, but Rami was quick.

Crack, crack!

Each bullet hit its target. One in the head, one in the neck. Both men went down. August’s yells sounded behind Rami but none of the words registered.

He approached Ivy’s body, curled on the forest floor. Skidding over tree roots and rocks, he placed his gun on the dirt and then swept his hand under the back of her neck. His other ran over her body, searching for injury. The Kevlar’s bumpy material still covered her chest and torso. No blood.

Her eyes lolled in her head as she seemingly fought to hang on.

“Baby, I’m here.” He didn’t recognize his own voice. All his strength left him as he stared at Ivy’s dazed eyes and slack body.

She blinked, and her hand reached for his face then flopped to his chest.

Emotion clogged his throat. He gripped her fingers, willing her to stay with him. “Ivy, tell me where you’re hurt, honey.”

She brought her shaking hand to the back of her head. He swept his fingers over her scalp and felt sticky blood and a large lump. Her condition suddenly made sense. “You’re bleeding. Probably got a concussion. Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she said weakly, tears in her voice.

“Get away from her! That fucking bitch is mine.” The man staggering to his feet held a hand over his eye. Blood ran down his cheek.

Rami’s brain worked rapidly. He thought of the photo he’d seen of Ivy’s kidnappers. Wayne. He was supposed to be dead.

At the sound of Wayne’s voice, Ivy recoiled in his arms. Wayne lifted his gun and aimed it at Rami’s head. Rami inched his fingers toward the weapon nestled near his knee.

“Back away from her.”

“Over my dead body,” Rami growled. Yanking his Glock from the waistband at his back, Rami fired. Another shot went off.

Wayne dropped like a stone.

Confusion whipped through Rami—the other shot. Panic assailed him as he brought his focus back to Ivy, searching to ensure Wayne’s bullet hadn’t hit her.

But clarity returned to her eyes, and she slowly turned her gaze to Wayne’s dead form. “You killed him.” Relief filled her voice.

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