Page 12 of Ruthless Bonds

Run, Alora. Grab Dylan and run.

My breath came out in tiny pants as I kneeled. With trembling fingers, I reached for his neck, checking for a pulse. I couldn’t be certain, but it seemed there was a faint one. Maybe it was the fear or the adrenaline. Nothing made sense anymore. I ripped my mask off and leaned over him, trying to hear if he was breathing.

Warm breath brushed against my ear, and I jerked my head up just as his eyes snapped open. I screamed when he reached for me.

His face twisted in confusion as he stared at me, like he was seeing me, but not really seeing me.

“Predatel’! Predatel’!”

More words tumbled from his lips, urgent and confusing. Russian, I realized, although I couldn’t understand anything he was saying.

He gripped my wrist with a surprising amount of strength. I tried to yank free, but it was no use.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I don’t understand.”

His other hand fumbled into his pocket and pulled out a coin that glinted in the moonlight. He pressed the coin into my palm, closing my fingers around it.

“Predatel’,” he whispered, his eyes boring into mine, desperate for me to understand.

Unsure of what to do, I nodded and repeated the word back to him. “OK. OK.Predatel’,” I whispered.

He glanced over my shoulder, his breath coming out ragged. “Run… run.”

As quickly as it had come, his strength left him. His hand dropped from mine to the ground. There was an emptiness in his eyes that left my heart pounding.

“Alora!” Dylan barreled into the room. “Alora?”He rounded the corner of the desk, his eyes widening at the man dead in front of me. “We need to move now; the house is on fucking fire.” He grabbed me by the shoulders and tugged me up. “Is he…?”

“Yeah.” I shoved the coin into my pocket.

Dylan’s eyes lit up when he saw the opened safe. He rushed over and rummaged through the contents. It didn’t sound like jewelry and, based on the frustrated groan he let out, it wasn’t. He threw some small bundles into his duffel bag and slammed the lid shut. “Let’s go.” He gripped my hand and dragged me up the stairs.

Holy shit.

There was smoke everywhere. It looked like it was coming from the second floor. Panic gripped me as I realized the police could show up at any minute. I covered my mouth and nose with my forearm, the smoke heavy in my chest as we rushed out the back door.

Dylan threw the duffel bag over the fence and boosted me over next. Once on the other side, he grabbed the bag and my hand, and we ran back the same way we had come. No lights were popping on in any neighbors’ homes, nor did we hear any police sirens as we ran.

Once inside my car, I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t over yet, though. We still had to get off the island and home without getting caught. Now was not the time to panic and get pulled over for speeding.

“What was in the safe?” I asked as I tugged on my seatbelt.

Dylan closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “Don’t freak out, OK?”

Obviously, when someone tells you not to freakout, you’re going to freak out.

He unzipped the bag and my eyes widened. There had to be at least eight white bundles in there, all with gray tape around them. It didn’t take a genius to know what the hell that was.

“Did we just rob a drug dealer?” I looked from him to the bundle in his hand. “Did we just steal someone’s drugs?” My voice rose with each word.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head and zipped the bag back up. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I swear I didn’t know, Alora. He said it was jewelry.”

“That’s real convenient, Dylan.” I wanted to believe him. But after all the lies he’d been telling lately, I didn’t know if I could.

My knuckles were white as I gripped the steering wheel and pulled off onto the road.

Let’s just get home safely, and we can deal with this.

We’d barely made it a hundred feet before a deafening boom rang out so loud we both flinched. I stopped the car and we both turned around as the sky lit up with a massive fireball.

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