Page 24 of Till Death Saves Me

12

GINNY

Istep out of the boutique, my arms laden with shopping bags, feeling a bit guilty about the amount I've spent. But hey, if Ivan's going to keep me cooped up in his house, I might as well look fabulous doing it.

And I might have bought a few more of those tiny bikinis he's been eyeing…

As I make my way down the bustling sidewalk, a prickle of unease crawls up my spine. I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of a man in a dark jacket about twenty feet behind me. He's probably just another shopper, right?

I pick up my pace, weaving through the crowd. My heart starts to race as I realize the man is matching my speed. Shit. Where's Dmitry? Ivan's guy was supposed to be tailing me, but I can't spot him anywhere.

I duck into a nearby department store, hoping to lose my shadow in the maze of clothing racks. My palms are sweating as I navigate through the store, constantly checking behind me. There he is again, pretending to browse but his eyes never leave me.

Panic claws at my throat. I head for the exit, bursting back onto the street. My eyes dart around, searching desperately for Dmitry's familiar face. Nothing.

I spot an alley up ahead and make a split-second decision. Ducking into it, I press myself against the brick wall, trying to steady my breathing. The sound of footsteps grows closer. My whole body tenses.

A shadow falls across the alley entrance. I hold my breath, my heart pounding so loud I'm sure he can hear it. The shadow lingers for what feels like an eternity before finally moving on.

I let out a shaky exhale, but I know I'm not safe yet. I need to get back to the main street, find Dmitry, or call Ivan. God, I never thought I'd be so desperate to see my husband's scowling face.

Clutching my bags close, I peer out of the alley. The coast seems clear, but as I step out, a hand clamps down on my shoulder.

I whirl around, a scream caught in my throat. The man's grip tightens, his eyes cold and calculating. My heart pounds so hard I think it might burst out of my chest.

Suddenly, a blur of motion catches my eye. Before I can process what's happening, Ivan materializes like the devil himself. His face is carved from stone, eyes blazing with a fury I've never seen before.

In one fluid motion, Ivan grabs the attacker's wrist, twisting it at an unnatural angle. The man howls in pain, releasing me. I stumble back, watching in shock as Ivan moves with lethal grace.

The attacker swings wildly, but Ivan dodges effortlessly. His fist connects with the man's jaw, the crack echoing in the alley. Blood sprays from the guy's mouth as he staggers.

Ivan doesn't let up. He drives his knee into the man's stomach, then slams his elbow into the back of his neck. The attacker crumples to the ground, gasping for air.

The whole time shoppers move around us like it's a casual occurrence, side stepping the body on the ground and looking annoyed about it. Just how sheltered was I that I feel so shocked by it all?

"Virginia, are you hurt?" Ivan's voice is tight, controlled, but I can hear the underlying rage.

I shake my head, unable to form words. My whole body is trembling.

Ivan's attention snaps back to the groaning man at his feet. He grabs a fistful of the attacker's hair, yanking his head back. "Who sent you?" he snarls, his accent thicker than I've ever heard it.

The man spits blood, refusing to answer. Ivan's eyes narrow dangerously. He twists the man's arm behind his back, pushing it to its breaking point. "I won't ask again."

Just then, Dmitry appears, looking perfectly calm. I wonder how close he was the whole time since he looks so unruffled. "You want me to take him?"

"Yes," Ivan snarls, his voice like ice. "Make him talk."

Dmitry nods, grabbing the semiconscious attacker and dragging him away. I watch, still frozen in place, as Ivan turns to me. His eyes sweep over me, checking for injuries.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" he asks again, his voice softer now but still edged with tension.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me shaky and weak-kneed. Ivan steps closer, his hand hovering near my arm, not quite touching.

"It's okay," he murmurs. "You're safe now."

I can't stop shaking as Ivan's hands move over me, checking for injuries. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence I just witnessed. My heart races, but I'm not sure if it's from the lingering fear or something else entirely.

"I'm fine," I manage to whisper, my voice trembling. "Just... shaken up."

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