Page 77 of Stricken

"Don't you dare," I snarl, grabbing his wrist. With a surge of adrenaline, I haul him up to sit beside me on the rack. The shelving moans under our weight and trembles as Nico collapses against me, coughing violently. "Vlad, I can't—"

"You can and you will," I growl, cupping his face. His blue eyes are hazy with pain and exhaustion. "Stay with me. We're almost there. We just need to make it through this window."

"You go first," he whispers. "I'm right behind you."

"Liar," I mutter, sticking my head out to assess the drop. It's not great, but it's our only chance. Break a leg or burn alive. Those are the only options. Without warning, I shove Nico through first, wincing as I hear him cry out in pain.

I follow immediately after, glass slicing into my palms as I push myself through. For a moment, I'm falling, and then I hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact.

Gasping, I scramble to my feet, searching for Nico. He's sprawled a few feet away, motionless.

"No, no, no," I mutter, dragging him further from the blazing warehouse. The heat is oppressive, even out here. It's not an electrical malfunction. Someone doused the inside and outside of the warehouse with the gasoline or lighter fluid. No, my mind says. Gasoline and lighter fluid smell.Shut up. Not the time to figure out who wants both of you dead.

I pull us into the cover of some nearby bushes, cradling Nico against my chest.

"Hey, Hot Shot, open your eyes," I demand, tapping his cheek. "Don't you dare pass out on me now."

He stirs slightly, eyelids fluttering. "Vlad?" he mumbles. "Are we out?"

"Yes. We're out. I'm here," I assure him, relief flooding through me. "Stay awake, okay? Just... stay with me until help arrives."

As I hold him, something shifts inside me. The fear of losing him, this wretched need to keep him safe–it's more than just business, more than our tentative alliance, more than sex. I've been denying it, running from it, but in this moment, I can't anymore.

I care for him. Deeply.

Nico's chest heaves with a ragged cough. I clutch at his hoodie, my fingers digging into the smoke-stained fabric.

"Listen to me, you stubborn bastard," I growl, my voice raw and unfamiliar even to my own ears. "You don't get to pass out on me. Not here, not now."

Nico's eyes flutter open, hazy with pain and confusion. I lean closer, our faces inches apart.

"I need you. Got it? More than I've ever needed anyone." The words tumble out, unbidden and unstoppable.

A hint of a smile touches Nico's lips, a flicker of understanding in his blue eyes. "Il mio gattino," he whispers brokenly. "Always so... demanding."

His eyelids droop, and then he's gone, slipping into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER26

VLAD

My heart slams against my ribs as I tear through the prickly undergrowth, low branches whipping at my knees. Lungs burning, I vault over something, desperation propelling me forward despite shitty vision. Nico's ashen face flashes through my mind. I had to leave him to get us help. The image torments me. But I don't let it derail me. Every second counts in this madness.

Someone tried to kill us.

Could be anyone.

Yet again, there's no time to think about this now.

Can't have the cops and fire department show up and find him there. Won't look good.

Bursting from around another structure, I stumble to a halt. My Audi sits where I left it, concealed in the bushes. Relief surges through me, short-lived. Even from a distance, I can see the tires are shredded, windows smashed into glittering shards. "Motherfucker," I mutter, sprinting the last few yards.

Up close, it's worse. The exterior is riddled with dents and deep scratches. The steering wheel is plucked out and is at an odd angle. They knew exactly where to hit it. Wrenching open the driver's door, I quickly survey the destruction—torn leather seats, the console mashed, wires tangled and useless. A strangled sound that's half frustration half wrath comes out from my throat.

Thunk. I slam my fist into the doorframe, pain lancing up my arm. Fuck. I have to get back to Nico. He can't die. Not like this. Not because of me. Because I failed him.

"Dumai, Vladimir," I hiss at myself. "Think!"

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