Page 6 of Cruel Redemption

My eyes opened, waiting for the doors to retract. I blinked, and Amara ran from the carriage. Her feet were bare and bloody.

“Amara?” I breathed.

“Luka,” she whimpered.

I opened my arms as she hurled herself toward me. The phone scattered somewhere on the floor. I couldn’t believe it. I questioned my sanity. How was she here? Was it a hallucination? Another dream about to turn into a nightmare?

“Luka.” Her face was in my neck. Her fingers dug into my back for security. She made a small wounded animal sound before I brought her face forward so I could study her eyes. They were bright green. Wild. Alive.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “Are you hurt?” I scanned her body for bruises. The blood came from her foot alone. Her jacket was missing.

“I’m fine.” Her body shook. “They got Enzo. But I ran. I kept running.”

I rubbed my thumb against her cheek. “How did you get away? Who was it?” I tried to control the questions. She was shaken. “Where are your shoes?”

“I don’t know. I kicked them off somewhere when I was running. They slowed me down.” She shook her head, staring at her bare feet. She was in as much disbelief as I was.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I brought her back to my chest. “You’re safe.” I wrapped my arms fully around her body.

I heard Ciro from a few feet away. Shit.

“Hold on,” I explained, reaching over for the phone on the floor.

“Novikov, fucking talk,” he growled.”

“Never mind. I’ve got her. She’s good. Enjoy your health spa.” I hung up and shoved the phone in my pocket before he could probe with more questions.

“Was that Ciro?” she whispered.

“I didn’t know if I was going to need his help,” I explained quickly. “You’re here. I can’t believe it.” I pulled her to me again.

“I’m fine, but Enzo. We have to get him back,” she pleaded. “He’s out there.”

“We will find Enzo, but first let me take a look at your foot.” I led her to a chair, and she sat willingly. I knew as soon as the last ounces of adrenaline faded she would be exhausted.

I knelt in front of her, bringing the heel of her foot in my hand to take a closer look. There was a gash several inches long on the bottom of her foot. I touched her, careful not to add more pain. She sighed when I examined it. It was a jagged and angry gash.

“This needs to be cleaned out,” I told her. “It’s deep, Amara.” I didn’t like the amount of dirt coating her foot.

She nodded, biting her lip. “I stepped on a big chunk of glass. I wasn’t looking.”

“Who would?” I lifted my eyebrows. “Don’t move.” There was a first aid kit bolted to the wall for the construction crew. I grabbed both sides and ripped it from the wall and carried it to Amara.

She watched in bewilderment as I opened it and began to line up what I needed to work on her foot.

“How do you know what to do?” she asked.

I exhaled, breaking the seal on the antiseptic. “I’ve patched up a few Bratva.” That was all the explanation she needed right now.

She gripped the side of the chair. “This is going to hurt,” I warned.

I held her foot in the air while I poured a generous amount of the cleansing liquid over her entire foot. The blood trickled to the floor. Amara winced, turning her head away from me. It was the only way I could try to clean what germs may have already entered the wound.

“Shit,” she whispered when I began to dab at the edges of the cut with a bandage. I needed to add ointment and then wrap it to keep it clean.

“I’m almost done.” I made sure all the blood was gone and that the cut was completely covered with ointment before I began wrapping her foot. I taped the loose edges, to hold the bandage in place.

Our eyes met. I leaned forward, brushing my lips against her ankle. I kissed her gently.

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