Page 73 of Phantom Mine

What the fuckis she doing?

“Valentina!”

She’s frozen. Her eyes are wide and glassy. Distant. Even from where I’m standing, I can tell she’s not present. She’s trapped somewhere deep inside her own body.

Another shot rings out.

The lightbulb above my head shatters, raining glass down on my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Enzo moving towards the two shooters.

“What the fuck, Valentina!” I roar, distress mangling my windpipe. “Get down!”

It all happens in less than ten seconds, but it feels like it stretches on for hours. She still doesn’t fuckingmove. She stands there like a goddamn statue. The thought that the next bullet could bury itself inside her twists my insides painfully. The emotion has no name, but it feels like someone is shredding my organs with a cheese grater.

I lunge, my body reacting viscerally as I trample over people laying on the floor covering their heads, my feet urgently seeking purchase, my gaze desperately stuck on hers, my mind willing my body to move faster, fuckingfaster.

Her eyes find mine and an anguishing tangle of emotions crashes through me. Fear dances in her gaze, alive and real. With one haunted look, she communicates more than she has in all our conversations put together. I get a deep glimpse ather, at the broken, sad part of her, and I want it.

Desperately.

Like an injured bird, I want to cradle her in my palms, take her home and heal her until she’s better.

Why am I so fucking far away?

When less than five meters separate us, another shot rings out. The wall just off to the side of her explodes. She flinches. My heart slams into my throat. The shots are getting closer to her.

Her shoulders huddle protectively together, but she still doesn’t fucking duck.

I throw myself across the remaining distance and tackle her to the ground just as another shot rings out.

There’s a loud, explosive crack as the bullet erupts from the chamber and travels through the air, and then there’s a sharp pain as it rips through my upper arm.

We hit the floor together and roll. I stay on top, covering her body protectively with mine. Dull pain throbs in my arm but I ignore it, too worried by the fact that Valentina is caught in the middle of this Armenian shitstorm.

When I glance at her, Valentina seems to have finally emerged from her torpor. She blinks up at me for a second, confused, and then her eyes drop to the growing stain on my right bicep and widen.

“Did you… did you getshot?”

“Looks like it,” I grimace.

She surprises me as she seems to always do, and doesn’t freak out. Instead, she reaches down and rips my belt off me. She ties it around my arm and cinches it tightly, earning a snarl from me.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m only trying to stop the bleeding.”

“I know what you’re doing,” I retort. “Why doyouknow what you’re doing?”

She blinks again. “I watch a lot of TV.”

“I’m not sure I buy that, but we can table that conversation for later.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Enzo and Guido have seized and disarmed the two men. Enzo nods at me, communicating that the guns are dealt with and we’re safe.

She’ssafe.

I realize my heartbeat is thrashing in my ears.

“Nobody fucking move,” I announce. “Everyone stay down until I say you can leave.”

I peel myself off Valentina and stand.

---