Page 44 of Dangerous Refuge

“Paul, please,” I plead, sobbing and gasping for breath. My chest hurts more now, shoulders too. I try again in vain to free myself from the rope binding my wrists.

“You know, you’re a waste of breath. Maybe I’ll just wait ’til the cops clear out and then I’ll go back to that apartment and take your little friend. She will tell me where my son is.” Paul drops my head and my body stiffens, sending a jolt of pain down my spine.

“No, Paul, leave Sarah out of this.” I lift my head again only to see the back of his hand come down toward my face.

“Please,” I whimper, but the blow nearly knocks me and the chair over. At the same time I hear a loud crash. I don’t hit the floor, but something booms around me. I’m crying so hard again I can barely see, but someone has busted the door in. I blink hard, and look up, using my shoulder to try to dry my eyes. The only thing that does is make my neck and face hurt more.

“Sven!” He’s here? And he’s angry. He stands with hands turned to fists just inside the door he smashed open.

“You sick fuck,” he says, moving with stealth and speed. He rams a shoulder into Paul’s gut and they slam into the wall. Paul is surprised, his eyebrows high. He pushes back, forcing Sven away from his body, but Sven comes back at him with a punch to the face.

“Sven!” I fight to get my hands free. I feel the ropes loosening up, but my skin is on fire. I may even be bleeding. “Sven, he has a gun.” I try to warn him as Paul starts to fight back. Fists are flying everywhere. Paul fights dirty too. When Sven knocks him down, Paul grabs a handful of the broken glass. He rises back up, using the hand with the glass in it to swipe at Sven’s face.

“Bastard, get the fuck out of my apartment.” Paul charges at Sven again, and this time it’s Sven’s turn to take a gut shot. Paul’s head connects hard with Sven’s gut, knocking the wind out of him and the gun out of his waistband. Paul spots it as Sven is bent over trying to catch his breath.

“Sven! Oh my god!” I yank at the restraints now as Paul dives to the floor. Hand lands only inches from the gun and Sven sees what he’s doing too. As he sucks in a breath, Sven dives on top of Paul. His hand doesn’t reach the gun either, and they wrestle across the filthy carpet.

My mind races with terror. I tug and tug on the restraints, sobbing hard. They’re in an all-out brawl to get to the gun first, and I’m tied to this chair. If Paul gets it, he’ll kill Sven and then me. I can’t let that happen.

“Please, Paul…” I plead, but they are so focused on their fight, I know he can’t hear me.

Paul forces Sven off of himself by rolling, then slams Sven’s head against the wall. Sven closes his eyes briefly. It looks like he’s dizzy. In that split second, Paul gets the gun and chambers a round. The metal-on-metal sound snaps Sven out of his daze and just as Paul aims the weapon, Sven grabs his wrist. The gun goes off, blasting a hole in the wall just over Sven’s shoulder.

He lurches forward with Paul’s wrist in hand and knocks him backward to the floor.

“Holy fuck…” This is bad. I glance at the door. No one is coming to save either of us. I don’t know where this apartment is or if there are other people in this building or not. Someone has to have heard that shot. I tug at the rope, feeling it loosen even more now.

Sven, now on top of Paul, has the advantage. I watch them spit and cuss at each other as Sven tries to get the gun out of Paul’s hand. They roll across the carpet, besting one another until Paul is victorious, using all of his body weight to pin Sven down. The gun is hidden between their bodies somewhere, and both of their faces are red with exertion.

“You’re going to die tonight, for what you did to her, and from what you took from me.” Sven’s brow furrows in concentration.

“Sven! Please, be careful,” I shout, pulling at the rope. I feel it give way just as the gun goes off. “No!” I scream, scrambling to free myself from the now-loose ropes. Paul lays across Sven’s chest, head down, and Sven’s eyes are shut. Blood pours out of one of them, pooling beneath their bodies and I am frantic. I launch forward and fall to my knees, lavishing kisses and tears on Sven’s face. The chair is still zip-tied to my ankles but I am closer to him.

“God, Sven, get up. Please,” I beg. I push on his shoulder, terrified to touch Paul. Sven’s eyes open slowly, one of them is swelling shut. “Oh my god, are you hurt?” I have never felt more panic in my life than this moment. Even with Paul taking me and threatening me, it was nothing compared to the fear that Sven may be dying. “Say something.” I push on his shoulder again and he opens and shuts his eyes a few more times before straining to push Paul off of his chest.

The minute Paul rolls to his back on the blood-soaked carpet, I see the blood and my heart freezes. I sit back, covering my mouth as bile launches out of my stomach. I turn, vomiting on the floor. Hair hangs around my face, getting caked in vomit, and Sven gets up. He doesn’t hold my hair, but he cuts my ankles loose from the zip ties.

When my stomach is empty, I use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth clean and push the hair out of my face. Sven came for me. He actually came even after I left him and told him I wanted nothing to do with him or his lifestyle. And my heart feels safe now with him here. Safer than I’ve ever felt, and not just because Paul is on the carpet in front of me bleeding out.

“Get up, we have to get out of here before the cops show up.” Sven extends a hand to me, and I take it. I stand, and I have a strong urge to wrap my arms around him. Every bit of emotion I felt while sitting at Sarah’s house talking to her bubbles up. I’m in love with this asshole to my very core, and I want to be with him.

“Sven,” I start, but he’s already heading toward the door. I glance down at Paul’s bleeding form. “Is he going to die?” I ask, hurrying after him.

“Probably… If not he’s going to prison anyway. They have a warrant out for him.” Sven walks into the hallway and I follow, rubbing my wrists. They’re raw but not bleeding.

“What about your gun?”

“Enough!” he snaps, glaring at me over his shoulder, and I bite my lip. I’ve hurt him too deeply. He stares at me for a long second and I wonder if I’ll be able to repair what I broke or if it’s too late. I’m not even thinking of Rico and the challenge of raising my son in a Bratva home. I just know I want him and I don’t want to live without him.

I trail behind him all the way to his car. He pulls his phone out and sends several text messages as we descend the stairs. I am able to read the word “cleaner” and I see a street address he sends to someone. I’m not sure what that means other than he’s cleaning up his mess, but it doesn’t even bother me right now. After the hell I just went through, Sven’s arms are the only place I can imagine feeling comfort again.

24

SVEN

Allie follows behind me as we walk. Tucker has already come and moved my car, followed me here when I sent out hasty messages for backup. Chances are my call for the cleaners to arrive will be a quick response too. And if Monroe can hold off Vice from serving the warrant, I’ll have Allie safely away from this scene before the cops show their faces here. As long as no one called in the report of gunfire.

“Walk faster,” I bark, feeling my chest so tight I can barely breathe. My job here is done. I killed the bastard who hurt her and avenged my family following the bullshit that man put me through. I have no more obligation to Allie than any other human on this planet. So why do I want to pull her into my arms and demand she never leave me?

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