Page 2 of Savage Escape

Muscles: still spasming and day-old-kitten weak. Fucking shit.

Weapons: nil. Her sharp wit and deadly good looks would be of no use in this situation.

Baldy was on her like a bag of bricks. Hands and tongue everywhere. Trying to pull off her clothes at the same time he was trying to grope all the good bits—counterproductive, really.

Caden fought the urge to insult him and his mother in all the languages she knew, but only because her voice box was shot from all the torture-induced screaming. So instead, the Hitter willed her arms and the trembling digits connected to them to obey and focused on first locating that loose bit of stone on her right and then gripping it.

Her shirt and bra were ripped to hell by the time she got the rock in her hand. Cold hands were bruising and rough. Controlled rage helped to still her spasming muscles. Now all she had to do was wait for an opening.

One good jab to the neck and he’d bleed out.

And there went the remainder of her shirt and bra.

Bashed in the temple would send him to hell flat out.

He was alternating between rubbing himself and pawing at her naked torso.

His own nose stabbing into his brain would be instant and not near as painful as she’d like.

He was concentrated on her jeans now, trying to find the button and zipper under all the mud and blood. Then he was wrenching them down. Smirking like a bastard, he moved to pull at her breasts again.

Brachial artery it was.

Caden steeled her muscles, shot her arm forward as his arm moved within reach, and slashed with all her strength.

For a second he faltered, blinked in surprise, and then smirked before he went back to bruising her boobs. A thread of fear started pulsing in her mind. She’d missed it. She was going to get raped by this scum-fuck and could do nothing about it but continue to convulse. But then his eyes got wide. That fearful, oh-fuck-I’m-wounded wide and he was scrambling to stop theflow of blood. Caden let her arm fall back and chose to ignore the fact that he was bleeding out on top of her. She had won, and he was dead or getting close to it anyhow.

Losing six liters of blood a minute was not conducive to staying alive. The scumbag would be dead in a matter of seconds.

Caden watched as horror morphed his features. He knew he was dead.

Then the rage—the rage at her being the one to kill him had him lunging for her head. His fist connected with her jaw, but the blood loss coupled with weeks of torture and malnutrition softened the blow.

Panic sank in as he forgot about her and remembered that he was alive and why exactly he liked that state of being.

Four heartbeats later, he slumped.

Two more heartbeats and he was dead weight on top of her.

Dead.

Eyes glazed.

Still pumping out what little was left in his veins.

Fucker.

2

NATHAN

Nathan Savage was out of the game.

He’d been out of the game for years.Twoyears, approximately.

But obviously, the seedy underbelly of Moscow didn’t check duty rosters.

Which had been his very first thought when he ventured out of Badgers Pub and waltzed right into the small but organized army. He was out of the game and it just wasn’t fair. But it only took a moment to think and another to get over it and then try to dodge the fists aimed for his torso.

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