Page 206 of Teacher's Pet

That’s my fucking girl.

Tears spill from my eyes, my throat locking up as I hold her tighter.

"God, Ana, I was so fucking scared I lost you," I whisper, my hands cupping her face, my thumb brushing over a fresh cut.

I press my forehead to hers, my breath shaky.

"I love you so fucking much."

Her lips tremble, barely parting, but she finds the strength to kiss me—weak, soft, but there.

Her breath grazes my skin as she whispers, "Please… take me home."

I scoop her up, cradling her battered body against my chest.

She feels weightless.

Too light. Too fragile.

A sharp pang shoots through me as I register just how many wounds cover her. Cuts, bruises, dried blood, evidence of every moment she fought to survive.

She shouldn’t have had to fight.

I run.

Every step sends fire through my legs, but I don’t stop. I won’t stop.

The cold air whips against my face, the night pressing in around us, but I let the flashing ambulance lights guide me forward.

One step. Then another.

Toward safety.

Toward life.

Toward a future I refuse to lose.

Chapter 39

Anastasia

"Watch it," Noah hisses beside me, glaring daggers at the EMT every time I flinch. His fists clench, barely restrained fury simmering beneath the surface.

Perched in the back of the ambulance, Roman speaks in hushed tones to the responding officers as they haul away the bodies. He slides one of them his card, just a brief flash of black and silver, and, like clockwork, both officers immediately shut their mouths and tuck away their notepads. Business as usual.

"He's just doing his job," I whisper, patting Noah’s chest in an attempt to soothe him. The wound in my leg is finally being mended, the sharp sting of antiseptic fading into a dull ache.

"You’ll still need to go to the hospital," the EMT warns, his voice matter-of-fact. "You're lucky a major artery wasn’t nicked."

I nod, exhaling slowly. Lucky. Sure.

"Just let us clear this mess and give you a clear path," the EMT continues, barely sparing us a glance. "Then you and your husband will be on your way."

Noah doesn’t correct him. Instead, he just grins like a drunken fool, his lips twitching with amusement but offering no objection.

Across the road, Noah’s men haul Jake out of the woods, his limp legs dragging through dirt and gravel, leaving a faint trail of blood in his wake. Roman strolls over with his usual easy confidence, sparing Jake only a cursory glance before his men shove him into one of their waiting cars. The cops turn a blind eye, too preoccupied with securing the area, handling the bodies of Walker and Cole like discarded trash.

Roman crouches slightly, voice dipping low as he studies me. "How are you feeling?"

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