Page 22 of 10 Days to Surrender

His scowl deepens. He opens his mouth to reply—but before he can, a thunderclap of distant motorcycles grabs all our attention.

In unison, all four of us look down the road. It’s a long, straight highway, so we can see a mile or so into the distance.

And in that distance, headlights shine bright.

More Serbians.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Sasha growls. He stomps away and yanks the car door open. The lights flick on and catch the scar around his throat, pulsing red as his jaw clenches. “You can argue, but you’re going to do it in a moving vehicle. Not standing on the side of the road like a sitting fucking duck.”

“Or what?” I jab a finger into his chest. His scarred, ruined chest. “You’ll drag me? Chain me to your bumper?”

“I’ll do what’s necessary to keep you safe.”

“Try it.”

He does.

One second, I’m glaring up at him; the next, I’m scooped up in his arms like a baby. He’s careful to keep my belly safe—but I have no intentions of treating him anywhere near as carefully.

“Put me down!” I beat his back. “You psychotic Neanderthal?—”

“Keep hitting me,” he interrupts calmly, striding toward the car. “You might fix all the shit that’s broken.”

Engines snarl in the distance. Closer. Too close.

Over Sasha’s shoulder, I see Jasmine and Kosti looking nervously at each other. Then, as the bark of acceleratingmotorcycles rings out again in the night, they both jump into the car.

Sasha dumps me into the passenger side, then slams the door and locks it before I can crawl my way out.

“Seatbelt,” he orders, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Go to hell.”

He reaches over and yanks the belt across me himself. As he does, his knuckles graze my belly—and we both freeze.

His eyes meet mine. It only lasts a second, but some seconds last centuries. This is one of them. I feel like I’m hallucinating as the last six months replay in my mind—only this time, Sasha is there for all of it.

Hugging me to his chest when I bring out a pregnancy test cradled in my palms. I can feel his proud grin without having to look.

The first scan—fingers interlaced with mine, patting me on the thigh. “It’s all gonna be okay. We get to meet our baby soon.”

The reveal of twins. Twice the amount of love to give and share. Not shock, but pride and joy doubling, just when we thought we’d already maxed out on both emotions.

Sasha doting. Sasha guarding. Sasha loving. Sashathere.

I see all of that in his eyes. I don’t know what he sees in mine, and I don’t want to ask. I’d rather just rip my gaze away so these visions I didn’t want disappear.

The engines roar louder.

“Sasha,” Kosti warns.

He snaps the belt into place. Peels out before I can breathe.

Tires screech. The car lurches forward, throwing me back against the seat. Behind us, headlights swarm—motorcycles, four, five, six, more—charging down the one-lane highway like a horde of wasps.

We’ve got a hundred yards on them, maybe less, and this rental car isn’t exactlyNeed for Speedmaterial. Sasha guns it even harder.

“You’re going to kill us!” I scream.

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