Page 95 of Her Silver Fox Mountain Men

“What if this plan of yours fails, huh? Do you have any idea what Lev will do to all of you if he stays in charge?”

My last hurrah.

Piotr takes out his gun.

“Wait, Igor, hold on.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Igor blurts out. He clearly did not see this coming.

POP-POP.

Piotr’s head explodes.

I scream as he falls to the ground, limp and bloody. The other two scramble to get their guns out.

POP-POP-POP.

Several more rounds are fired.

“Fuck!” Igor snarls while the rest of his men fall, joining Piotr in cold, quiet death. “Who’s there?”

I’m on my knees, huddled and shaking, praying that none of the bullets hit me. My heart rumbles in my chest, and I hold my breath as time seems to stop. I can almost see the projectile bolting through the cool November air, ripping through a cluster of pine needles, shards of green flying everywhere before it lodges in Igor’s shoulder.

He cries out in sheer agony, falling backward and landing with a heavy thud. The gun skitters away from him.

I hear heavy footsteps approaching. Everything is hazy but I recognize them.

James. Oliver. Roman. They’re clad in their tactical gear, assault rifles with sniper scopes in their hands. They scan the entire area as they approach, searching for me. Behind them stands Lev, unmoving. Watching. His heart breaking. Shadows mar his tired features with disgust, misery, and shame.

“Elise!” I hear James call out for me.

Red and blue lights flash somewhere down the mountain, an ambulance wails.

“Move, move, move!” someone shouts.

Roman points his rifle at Igor, still on the ground. “Don’t even think about it,” he says.

“That’s enough!” Lev raises his voice. “You got your pound of flesh, gentlemen.”

“The road’s too treacherous for the ambulance,” a deputy tells Sheriff Van Pelt. “We’re going to need gurneys to carry the injured down ourselves.”

“Only one injured,” Oliver replies as he checks the pulse on each of Igor’s goons. “These three are dead.”

Igor cries out, unable to move as blood pools around him, seeping through his clothes into the layer of dry leaves and cold dirt beneath him. “You son of a bitch.”

“Be thankful I didn’t kill you,” Roman hisses.

James climbs into the backseat of the car, wrapping me in his strong, comforting arms as I become conscious of what just happened. It didn’t take long for the rest of the cavalry to catch up with us, from what I can tell.

“Thank you for finding me,” I mumble, my head resting on James’s chest. He sits beside me, still holding me close, determined not to let me go.

“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” he soothes.

I look up and smile at Roman, then Oliver before turning to look back at James. “I knew that as soon as I saw the three of you.”

“You were whip-smart to turn that earpiece back on,” Roman says. “I doubt we would’ve found you in time otherwise.”

“Ditching Kirby was a crazy, stupid thing to do,” Oliver tells her with a furrowed brow. “But we’ll discuss that later.”

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