Page 37 of Savage Escape

“Okay.” Her hands were shaking now and her eyes would roll in her head if she turned her head too quickly. She was low on energy. “Let’s get you in the car.”

“I may faint on ya, Caden.” His eyes were closed, and he looked even paler and green now. He was sweating and swallowing like he was going to puke.

“I got ya.” Caden stood and put their weapons on the floor of the car. “Just maybe try not to puke all over me.”

There were still people dying around them, but the cover of the SUV provided a barrier between the two. It was almost like they were in their own little bloody, horrible world. Caden took a moment to catch her breath and attempt to still her shakinglimbs before she reached down and helped drag Nathan to a sitting position.

“No promises—will you still love me if I yak on your new shoes?” He got to his feet and swayed. Caden caught him and wedged her shoulder under his. They took the two steps to the SUV together. He swayed again, and then suddenly he was dead weight.

“Holy fucking Christ.” Grunting and shoving and pulling and cursing, Caden finally got his heavy ass into the back seat. “What are you like, seven hundred pounds?”

The world spun when she righted herself, but Caden swallowed the urge to vomit and closed her eyes. Ignoring the white-hot pain coming in waves from just about everywhere on her, she felt for his pulse.

It was quick but steady. He’d only passed out.

She got to work digging through the dead men’s pockets for cash and credit cards. She got lucky and found a bag of Skittles in one pocket and a granola bar in another. Finally, she plucked a couple of guns and knives off the corpses and returned to Nathan.

“We’re leaving Nathan—we’re gonna get you back to your family and those brothers. You’re gonna be just fine.” Talking helped to fight off the nausea and the dizziness. “You’re gonna be alright.”

She popped a handful of Skittles into her mouth and all but drowned in the saliva that magically appeared under her tongue. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and the thief experienced an ‘ah fuck’ moment while she was trying to chew the mouthful of candy. She twisted to get the enemy in her sights, but it was too late.

The man was a good three feet away, pointing a Beretta at her chest and shaking his head at her movements.

“Toss it.” His voice was low and gruff, but she heard him in through the din of gunfire.

Caden complied with a growl.

“Move away.” It took a moment for her to understand that he meant to move away from Nathan. “Now.” Again, she had no choice but to comply. If only he’d step closer, she could make a grab for his gun. Caden made an effort to look soft and female and anything but a threat. “Further.”

He spoke English, though they were in Moscow, with a drawl so she could safely assume that he was an American. He was tall and lean. Narrowed blue eyes above high, prominent cheekbones made for an attractive face. Dressed in all black, a belt laden with all manner of weapons, a bulletproof vest protecting his chest, and cargo pants completed the gun-for-hire look. What the fuck were American soldiers doing invading Kyott’s compound?

When she was a good three feet from the SUV, he moved closer, not towards her, but towards the SUV. The man, clearly thinking she wasn’t too much of a threat, took his eyes off her and looked towards Nathan. A frown pulled at his face and he moved in for a closer look, gun still pointed at her chest.

Mine.

The thought resonated in her bones, sent a lightning bolt down her spine and rage ignited in her gut.

Taking advantage of his diverted attention, Caden took the three long steps into his personal bubble, aimed for kidneys, and hit Kevlar—fuck.

Shit, she knew better than that. Of course, he’d be sporting armor. She had to focus. Had to get her attention on taking the fucker down and not on Savage and the two bullets he’d taken.

A closed fist rammed into her already busted ribs, sending a shockwave of pain through her and making fuzzy dots pop up in her vision. Before she could recover, an arm snaked around herneck and secured her in a chokehold. Caden turned to shove her elbow into his stomach, but he caught it and twisted it up behind her, effectively taking one appendage out of the fray.

Fuck that. She could function with one arm—she’d done it before. But fuck, it was going to hurt. She braced for pain, gripped the fingers of the arm that was locking her in a chokehold, and felt him tense behind her.

“Don’t—”

Too late. The mercenary pushed away and turned at the same time, a twist of white-hot pain and the snap of her own bone cracking under the pressure put her left arm out of commission, effectively popping her arm out of its socket and possibly even breaking it. She’d broken at least two of his fingers and darted out of his now slackened hold. She spun round to face him and shoved the heel of her palm into his nose.

He turned his head just enough to keep from getting brained by his own nose. It snapped under her hand with a spurt of red. He stumbled back in an attempt to get out of her reach, but Caden kept on him. She tore the gun out of his hand and then lost her grip on the goddamn thing. It went skittering to the left, but she remained focused on taking out the threat instead of following the weapon.

Using her good arm to keep him off balance and in a haze of pain with a barrage of pressure point hits, she backed him up until he’d tripped over a fallen body and hit the ground. She broke in her new shoes by breaking a couple of his ribs with a few swift kicks (just to make sure he stayed down) and then hopped over his fetal-positioned body to get back to Nathan.

Caden all but flew into the driver’s seat, put the thing in gear, and only allowed herself to scream out the pent-up hurt when the compound and all the gunfire was in her rearview mirror.

They’d made it past the gate.

Now all they had to do was make it out of Russia, get some kind of medical help that didn’t include any kind of police reports, and not die while they were at it.

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