Page 34 of Captivated By the Bratva

I saw them all, and the result was the same. Nadia and I were outnumbered in both people and weapons. I had two guns and one knife. She had… nothing.

“We’re going to go this way,” I mouthed to her, indicating that she should head toward the west wall.

She nodded, ever so slightly, and I was grateful she wasn’t a foolish woman prone to hysterics. And why would she be? She told me that she’d been on the run for years. According to her, she’d been running and trying her best to hide and evade Lev Avilov since she was fifteen. That was far too young for a girl to be so mature and need to strategize how to stay off the grid or lie low. But her skills and competence were a huge benefit now.

Sticking to my side, she stepped carefully and slowly, marking the placement of her feet to avoid making any sound. She was fully aware of the dangers too close for comfort. As such, she moved gingerly, like tiptoeing near a ready-to-blow detonation device.

I grabbed her forearm, slowing her. When she looked up at me, I pointed at her bare feet. Then I aimed my finger at the sandals I’d found in the closet. More gifts or loans from the previous renters.

Again, she nodded slightly. Detouring toward the wall to slip on the footwear, she clung to my hand. I wasn’t sure if it was for support as she put the sandals on or if she just wanted to maintain contact with me. When she had both on her feet, she didn’t let go. I had my answer. She was scared, even if she didn’t outwardly let me see it.

Knowing she was intimidated motivated me to do all I could to protect her. I liked that she saw me as a source of safety. Of security. Deep down, I wished I could really be her hero. I fleetingly entertained the idea that I could be the good guy to rescue her, not the villain expediting her trip home so she could marry that old fucker.

Slowly and cautiously, we crept toward the door. When she slept in this morning, looking like an angel I wanted to dirty up again, I scoped out the building. This door had a slight lean-to framed around it. It wasn’t much for coverage, but I felt like it was the best we could hope for in terms of a transition of shelter to run out of here.

Once we reached the door, she plastered herself to the wall and let me take the lead. I noticed how her worried gaze followed me, and she frowned more when she reached my arm. Yes, I waswounded. But there was no time to spare to slow down and look at it.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

Her soft, concerned tone tricked me into thinking she really cared. Going down that route of thinking would be too damn dangerous. Nadia wasn’t supposed to matter. She wasn’t supposed to get under my skin and impact me. I’d been madly attracted to her from the moment I saw her, and I acted on that. I figured the insane need to have her would’ve faded by now, but it seemed like the opposite was happening.

I was only getting in deeper with her, touched that she’d be bothered about my injury.

Focus, dammit. Just focus.

I nodded, just to appease her, and concentrated on getting us out of here. The men shouted, trying to call us to surrender and come out of the building.

I’d been waiting for their return. They’d taken my rental yesterday, probably hotwiring it, but just knowing I’d reserved that high-caliber of a car had to have suggested that I had money. And if they roamed in this area, they would’ve known if we walked any further in that storm. I wouldn’t have been shocked if they’d chased out the renters of this place before, a routine of thievery and mugging.

I hadn’t counted on ending up in the Cartel territory. Back home, we had to deal with the Ortez Cartel far too often for my liking. These men, these criminals, operated under a whole different set of laws, and it went without saying that we were in trouble the longer we tried to rest here.

It was time to go.

It was past time to go.

“Stay behind me,” I whispered to her.

Once the men rushed in the front door, perhaps not considering this side exit, I tipped my chin and urged her to run.

Two men ambushed us, likely counting on us to find this side door. I shot one, but the other dodged to the side and tackled Nadia to the ground. She wrestled, kicking and fighting to get free, but before he could go far, I shot him in the head.

Shaking but quiet, smart enough not to scream, Nadia scrambled away from the dead man. On her hands and knees, she hurried to me, and I lowered my hand to help her up.

It was the only close call I wanted to face, but as we hauled ass and sprinted for one of the bikes, another man tried to stop us.

He wasn’t armed, and to save the bullets I was quickly running out of, I opted to twist his head and crack his neck. It was just as lethal. Nadia grimaced, looking away as I let the man drop.

“You okay?” I asked as she climbed onto the bike.

She nodded, shaky but with it. Guns were being fired all over the place, and while I wanted to assume we’d snuck out quick enough, I didn’t want to ride off with her going weak from an injury.

“Hurry,” she pleaded, gesturing for me to get on the bike.

I threw my leg over the seat, and as I lowered to sit, she snaked her arms around me and held on tight. A second later, I revved the engine.

How nice of them to leave the keys, to keep the bike running. It wasn’t a big beast of a motorcycle but a rickety, junky thing. I didn’t care. I wasn’t picky. It had gas and it worked.

I rotated my wrist and peeled out of there, spraying gravel in our wake as I sped away.

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