Page 86 of The Russian Retribution

“Hold on?—”

“You fucking bastard!” Rage explodes through me as I climb back to my feet. Whoever the fuck he is, I’m going to kill him for daring to put a hand on Anastasia, never mind trying to kidnap her amid all this carnage.

“Erik, no!” Anastasia yells as I lunge forward, wrapping a strong hand around the man’s neck. “Rocky’s a friend!”

Rocky and I hit the wall, my fist raised and poised to smash into his face.

“Listen to your girl, man,” he gasps through the blood pouring from his split lip. “I’m not the bad guy here.”

“Erik!” Amid her coughs, she grasps my shoulder. Her touch is like the first touch of a cool wind on a hot summer day. The anger in me subsides, replaced once more by fear as I release Rocky and turn to Anastasia.

Her dress is ruined, her skin stained with dirt and ash. Several cuts and scrapes cover her chest and bare arms amid light pink and bright purple bruises forming with each passing second. Blood streaks down the side of her face from her hairline where some of her platinum blond hair has turned pink from a head wound. Her makeup streaks down her face, and tears cling to her lashes as she looks up at me.

I touch her as gently as I dare. “Anastasia.”

“What… what are you doing here?” she gasps.

“You didn’t really think I’d stay away, did you?” I say softly, catching her chin between my thumb and forefinger, then tilting her head to the side. “Fuck. We need to get you out of here.”

“I’m fine,” she says weakly. “Just a—a bit stunned, I think.”

“You’re absolutely not fine,” I snap gently.

“I am,” pipes up Rocky as he paces away from us, rubbing his belly where my shoulder winded him. “In case you care.”

“Who the fuck even are you?” I glare over her shoulder to him.

“Rocky Barati.” He introduces himself with a cheeky smile, then a wince.

“Barati…” My eyes drift back to Anastasia. “Why are theItalianshere?”

“Long story,” she says, her voice distant. “I was giving my speech and then the cops turned up and the next thing I know, I’mtrapped under all this rubble and all I can think about is how expensive this dress was. Rocky got me free. He was helping me, trust me.”

“I do.” It’s an immediate answer. “But I need to get you out of here before this place comes down.”

“All those people,” Anastasia gasps. “All those poor people…” Her voice cracks sharply and she lifts scraped, bruised fingers to her lips. “Oh, my God.”

“It’s okay.” Instinct takes over. I wind my arms around her and pull her close against me, cuddling her tightly as if my touch could erase every lick of damage that touched her tonight.

“This hall leads to the kitchens. We can get out the back way,” Rocky explains. “Then we can—argh!”

A gunshot blasts through the air. I immediately curl around Anastasia to protect her as Rocky crumples to the floor like a freshly popped balloon.

Behind him stands a panting gunman with blood pouring from a deep laceration on his chest visible through his torn white shirt.

“Miss Remizova?” he gaps. “It’s time for you to come with me.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” I growl, scanning the ground for where my gun fell when I tackled Rocky.

The gunman steps forward, aiming his weapon at me. “It wasn’t a request.”

34

ANASTASIA

My head hurts.

Everything hurts, from my brow right down to my toes. It’s been a blur since the explosion.

---