Page 97 of Cruel Honor

Dimitri pulls up to Dr. Wilson’s clinic. I remember coming here for an MRI.

“Keep an eye out,” he says, “in case Abram somehow followed us.”

We hurry inside, and a shocked receptionist looks at us with wide eyes.

“Tell the good doc that Dimitri Ivanov is here to see him.”

She blinks then picks up the phone. After a moment, Dr. Wilson arrives. “What’s the matter.”

“I was shot,” Katya says, stepping forward and showing him her arm.

“Let’s get that looked at.”

“You go,” Dimitri tells her. “I’m going to stay in here.” To keep an eye out, I realize.

I want to stay with Dimitri, but Katya grabs my hand, pulling me along with her. Dimitri and I share a look before I walk down the hallway, and he disappears from my view.

It doesn’t take long for the doctor to take the bullet out in Katya’s arm. I remain by her side while she cusses and moans the entire time. Then he stitches her up, gives her medicine to help infection, and tells her she’ll be all right.

“You’ll just have a scar.”

Katya gasps. “A scar?” You’d think that was the worst thing to ever happen to her.

We walk back out to Dimitri, who tells us it’s safe to leave.

“But we have to find a new place to go to and fast,” he says.

“The beach house?” I suggest. We just drove hours going to and from there, but if it means our lives, the drive is worth it.

“No. Too many of my people know about it. Abram will be able to find it.”

“You don’t have a safehouse we can go to?” Katya asks.

He shrugs. “I never thought I would need one. Before I fucked up and fucked Tatiana, I thought I was invincible.”

“That’s just great, Dimitri,” Katya says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“Can you get a new safehouse?” I ask.

“Yes. But we’ll need to change cars. Abram will be able to track it and find us. Let’s go.”

We hurry outside, keeping our eyes and ears peeled for Abram.

What I’m not expecting to see is Detective Johnson coming our way.

It’s clear from the surprise in his face that he wasn’t expecting to see me either.

“Evie?” he asks then stops when he sees Dimitri next to me.

“Detective. What are you doing here?”

He nods at Dr. Wilson’s clinic. “I always go here. What are you doing? You seem like you’re in a hurry.”

“We are,” Dimitri growls, grabbing my hand.

Johnson stares at him for a beat before extending his hand. “Detective Johnson. You’re Dimitri Ivanov.”

“I am. How do you know that? And how do you know my wife?”

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