Page 62 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

I end the call, and then in a lightning-fast move, before either of them realizes I’m finished talking, I cock my arm back and swing on Russian number one. It’s a gamble that’s just as likely to end with my lifeless body riddled with bullet holes as anything else, but it’s all I’ve got.

My fist connects hard with the side of his head. He stumbles sideways and goes down like a sack of potatoes before Russian number two even catches up with what’s happening. He raises his gun, but I’m faster by about half a second, spinning and throwing a fist in his direction too. A loud pop echoes through the air, but it’s not enough to stop my momentum. The second one goes down just as hard as the first did, dropping to his knees, then flopping forward, unconscious.

The kids press themselves into a tighter mass, cowering as close to the wall as possible.

“It’s okay, I’m not here to hurt you.” I hold my hands up to prove it, but that only makes a few of the younger ones start to cry. Shit, I’m not even sure if any of them speak English, and I don’t have a hell of a lot of time to babysit. Keeping them safe in here is probably the best I can do.

There’s a hot feeling in the side of my stomach as I bend over to take the guns out of the unconscious men’s hands, tucking each one into my waistband. I dart my eyes between the two of them, then around the sparse room. There’s nothing to restrain them with in here, and fuck knows how long it will be before they come to.

The pop, pop, pop of gunshots resounding outside of the door is either promising or concerning, and I’m not in any position to guess which. If I were Elio, I would just shoot these men before they wake up. They’re going to die tonight one way or the other, so does it really matter if I’m the one to pull the trigger or if someone else does it?

Can I pull the trigger? In front of a bunch of kids, no less. It feels… unlikely. I chew on the inside of my cheek, frustration at myself rising. I’m here to protect them, and if I can’t do what needs to be done, we could all end up fucked. I look at the kids again—skinny, dirty, terrified. These men did that to them, and fuck knows how many other kids just like them. Fine, the Morettis are criminals in their own right, but they aren’t… this.

I reach back for one of the guns I just tucked away.

“Close your eyes.” I mime the action for the kids, and they seem to understand instantly, ducking their heads or putting their hands over their eyes.

Putting the barrel of the pistol to the back of each of the Russian’s heads and squeezing the trigger is surprisingly easy. Easier than I expected it would be. Easier than it probably should be. I don’t think I’ll lose a wink of sleep tonight over the world being short a few child traffickers.

The door flies open, and I raise the gun and step in front of the kids with the same quick reflexes that let me knock those fuckers out before they had a chance to blink. It takes me a few heart pounding seconds to realize that Elio’s smiling back at me from the open doorway. He looks down at the dead men and then back at me without missing a beat.

“Good work, Boss,” he says, then he frowns. “Holy shit, were you shot?”

ELIO

Orion looks a little dazed. He unbuttons the suit jacket and pulls it aside, and I gasp loudly at the crimson blood staining the shirt underneath.

“Fuck,” I mutter, taking a step closer and tearing his shirt open without pause so I can get a better look.

“I didn’t even feel it,” he grunts, looking down with his head cocked curiously.

I drop to my knees to get a better look, and his fingers slide instinctively through my hair. There are a dozen traumatized kids two feet away and my boyfriend is possibly bleeding out, but that move gets my dick hard anyway. And mine isn’t the only one. There’s a noticeable bulge in the silky slacks Orion is wearing. Adrenaline is a hell of a thing.

“You might want to save that blood flow for your more vital organs,” I murmur.

“That one feels pretty vital.” He chuckles.

I dab the blood away with his soaked shirt and breathe a sigh of relief. “It looks like it just grazed you.” I scramble back to my feet and push the unbuttoned shirt off of his shoulders, taking the jacket with it. He doesn’t fight me, just takes the wadded-up material when I hand it to him. “Keep pressure on it until we can get you stitches.”

“I’ll be fine.”

A crooked smile tugs at one side of my lips. “I know you will.”

“There you are.” Alessio appears in the doorway behind me. “Looks like we got them all.”

“The crew?” Orion croaks.

“They’re fine. A little shaken, but they were smart enough to duck and cover to avoid the crossfire,” he answers. “Our guys are piling up the rest of the bodies now, so they can sail this bitch right back to Nikandr with a message from the Morettis.”

“Try to run any more ‘merchandise’ through Wildcliff and he’ll lose a lot more than a single shipment and a dozen soldiers,” I say darkly, and Alessio nods.

“What happens to the kids?” Orion asks.

“We’ve got it covered,” I assure him.

Alessio turns to the kids and hunches down a little with his hands on his knees, doing his best impression of a kids’ show host. He says something to them in stilted Russian. I’m guessing it’s along the lines of “We’re here to help. Come with us.” Because they all start filing away from the wall.

“Come on.” I lead Orion out of the room with the kids behind us and Les bringing up the rear. We pass Mauro, one of my soldiers, dragging a body down the deck on our way off the ship. “There are two more in the storage room just down there.” I let him know.

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