Page 133 of Beautiful Beast

“Shit,” he mutters. She tries striking him again, but he pushes her back.

And then, there’s Nadia. She runs up behind Finn and stabs him in the side. He falls down with a grunt.

“Brother,” Aiden calls out, running right to his side. He looks at the women, then at Dante and me before shaking his head and helping his brother out of the house.

“Looks like they just left you,” I mock. “That’s what happens when you hire the help instead of inspiring loyalty in them.”

Dante’s face contorts into anger, and he begins to rain down punches onto my face. Every hit hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the knowledge that we have less than five minutes to get out of this house. If Anya dies inside, I know I’ll be devastated.

Anya runs over and stabs the knife into Dante’s back. He grunts and stands up, spinning around to face her.

And right before my eyes, he shoots her in the stomach. Everything goes silent for a long second.

Then, Anya gasps and collapses to the ground. Dante starts to inch toward the door, but I can’t let him leave.

I run over to him, shove him to the ground, and kick him in the head. His eyes flutter closed as he goes unconscious. As long as he’s inside when this place blows up, he won’t make it.

“Anya,” Nadia sobs, kneeling beside her sister.

I rush over to Anya’s side. Blood gushes from her abdomen. It’s deadly if she doesn’t get help fast.

I pick Anya and run outside, with Nadia following. As gently as I can, I place her in the car. Anya reaches out to me, gurgling and gagging.

“Don’t talk,” I order. “Nadia! Put pressure on Anya’s wound.”

Nadia scrambles into the backseat and does as I instruct. “What about my dad? Will the blast from the explosion kill him?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly as I start the car and drive away. Aiden and Finn are nowhere to be seen. They cut their losses when they realized they might not make it.

Dante hasn’t come out of the house yet. He has one minute left before he’s dead.

With no time to savor Dante’s death, I drive to my personal doctor, Dr. Bailey. He’ll fix Anya without asking questions.

But Anya has to survive making it to his hospital first.

“How’s she doing?” I ask, my voice ragged. I’ve never sounded so afraid before. I don’t think I’ve ever been this afraid before.

“She’s alive. But she’s bleeding faster. It’s not good, Erik. Hurry!”

I step on the gas. If any police officer tries to pull me over, I’m shooting him in the fucking face. I drive through redlights and take corners fast.

And then, there’s Dr. Bailey’s hospital before my eyes. He’s chief of the hospital and will make sure the cops aren’t involved in investigating Anya’s shooting.

I jump from the car so fast, I almost stumble, and then I pick Anya up and carry her inside. “I need help!”

A nurse runs over to me with a gurney. “Put her on.”

Anya grabs my jacket and shakes her head.

“It’s ok,” I whisper to her. “They’re going to save you, but you have to let go. You have to let them save you.”

Her fingers release my jacket.

The moment she’s on the gurney, the nurse calls for a team of nurses and doctors as they bring her into a private room of the ER.

“Stay back,” a different nurse tells me as the other doctors and nurses get started on cutting off Anya’s dress and attending to the gunshot. “We need room.”

“I’m her husband.”

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