Page 69 of Inked Adonis

For my business. For my safety.

For us.

24

NOVA

Only when I see Samuil standing in the doorway do I realize how terrified I was that he wouldn’t come back. The gunshot still echoes in my head. His takedown of the shooter plays on repeat behind my eyelids like a horror movie clip.

I throw myself at him, burying my face in his chest. It takes me a moment to register that his arms aren’t wrapping around me.

Stepping back, I scan his face, then his body, searching for injuries—scrapes, bruises, bullet holes. My breath catches when I meet his eyes. I’ve never seen them this dark, this stormy. Like gathering thunderclouds about to break.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” The words tear from his throat.

I replay the last few minutes—the man with slicked-back hair, the metallic gleam of the gun, the sharp crack of the shot. Samuil’s the one who tackled an armed man, but he’s mad at me?

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You jumped in front of a fucking gun, Nova.” He stalks toward me, then away, his rage a physical force in the room. “You jumped in front of a goddamn gun for a goddamn dog!”

Rufus lets out a pathetic whimper and attempts to tunnel under my bed. He’s too big to fit, so his head vanishes while his back end flops sadly onto the floor.

“You just hurt his feelings,” I whisper, my voice small.

“You know what really hurts? A fucking gunshot.” His hand clamps around my arm as he yanks me against his chest. His teeth grind together like he’s trying to crush granite. “You are never to put yourself in front of a gun again.”

“Samuil,” I rasp, “you’re hurting me.”

He drops my wrist like it’s scorched him. The sight of angry red fingerprints blooming on my skin seems to crack through his rage.

He spins away, raking fingers through his hair. “Blyat’.”

This can’t just be about me. The man—whoever he was—wanted to hurt Rufus. Wanted to kill him. I won’t apologize for preventing that.

“Only a coward aims a gun at a helpless animal,” I say softly. “I don’t regret what I did.”

He whirls back to me, silver eyes blazing. “A gun isn’t a fucking toy, Nova!”

“I figured that out after the first dozen times one was pointed at me, Sam!”

He freezes, going preternaturally still. “What?”

I chew the inside of my cheek raw. “I told you already: my father was a cop. He had a temper and access to a gun. So, yeah, I’m familiar with what it feels like to be on the wrong side of one.”

Samuil’s eyes flare, but his mouth stays locked shut. Taking advantage of his silence, I give him another once-over.

“Are you hurt? I wasn’t sure...”

“You’re askingmeifI’mhurt?”

“I already know I’m not. And Rufus is fine, too. I checked.” Under the bed, Rufus’s butt wiggles as he probably destroys one of my shoes, but after the afternoon we just had, he can demolish my entire closet for all I care. “Although I can’t speak for his mental health.”

Sam snatches my hand and drags me close, yanking my attention from the dog. “I want to know ifyouare okay, Nova.”

I’m not sure if it’s the surprise of being close to him or the soft way he whispers my name, but suddenly, tears well in my eyes.

And I was doing so well.

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