Page 12 of Fight for You
“Stäp!” The Russian ordered. Another shot echoed. Dirt and lilac hedges exploded near my hip. Purple flower petals flew into the air.
The barked yelp sounded near, telling me the dogs had cleared the same hedges without a break in their speed. I dove toward a fallen garden rake and spun onto my rear, with the sharp tines near my feet planted upward. I grabbed the old steel tool as a dog lunged toward my face. His muscles bulged, mouth in a snarl. I shifted the tip of the garden rake at an angle.Eat that! You piece of crap.
Because of the Siberian Lika’s momentum, the dog impaled himself onto the brackets of the rake. The end of the handle skidded into the dirt, halting the dog’s progress. As he whimpered, the other dog spun on his heels and shifted away from me. He yelped for the other animal.
Listening to his whimpers, I remembered Katlego’s dog. Sweet girl. But these weren’t dogs; these were demons in disguise. The rake seemed stuck in the dirt, and the other end impaled against the dog’s mouth. I struggled to wriggle it free. That caught the attention of its companion.
A low, throaty growl came my way.
“Gimme a second,” I snapped. I’d offer this hound from hell the same love. Just needed to free my weapon from Wolverine One. Number Two, finding his courage, crouched low.
Oh,no!
He jetted into midair.
A bullet dropped Wolverine Two, and he rolled from the force of it.Crack.Crack. The dog’s large body jerked against a lilac hedge, the sinews and muscles straining and twitching.
“Just die.” I croaked and then sank onto the ground, overcomeby a fresh wave of tears.Get up, Jordy. That was an accident. Get your stupid behind?—
The man who shot him stopped running. Taller than life, he strode over with purpose. Well, that made sense. He could shoot a moving target—that dog—while also running. Now, he’d heighten my anxiety with his leisurely approach. I wanted to curl into a ball and surrender, but my eyes searched him as he moved toward me slowly. Tall. Broad. Covered in blood and some sort of ash. His hair, long, straggly. Blond?Maybe. Red from blood?Definitely.
Eyes like storm clouds scanned me, then softened when landing on my own.
He took a step toward me, crouched, and his hand cupped my cheek.
My mouth quivered uncontrollably. This couldn’t be. I’d imagined this moment until the daydream twisted into an ugly nightmare, and the boy who vowed to save me became my worst enemy. Worse than Aleksandr, Rocket, any man who laid a finger on me. Despite my trembling and disbelief at what I saw, a name croaked from my quivering lips. “Jamie?”No, Jordy. It’s not him. It’s Ro?—
“Yes.” His voice, no longer squeaky, high-pitched, or innocent, now resonated with a rich baritone, its Scottish accent barely audible beneath the urgency. Jamie swiped the red stickiness from his sharp cheeks and chiseled square jaw, then reached down a hand. “It’s time for you to come home now, Jordyn.”
6
TARZANA HILLS
Jamie
“Jordyn. No, wait!”My legs buckled, knees hitting the dirt, and I reached for my privates. Instead of taking my hand, she’d punched me. Slugged me. Hard. Scampered to her feet and over the other hedge into the dark of night.
I dropped on my haunches, struggling to catch a decent breath. My hands—sticky with other men’s blood—shook as I dragged them across my face.Stupid.Stupid.STUPID. What the heck was wrong with me? I’d scared her away!No,wait. Jordyn remembered me.
And she hated me for it. After all these years—twenty-four to be exact—I’d left her in that hell, and she hadn’t forgotten. Of course, she hadn’t. Why would she? I should’ve led with an apology. Begged for her forgiveness the second our eyes met.
But I hadn’t. I’d been shocked. She was here. In the flesh. Mission successful. Almost.
Minutes ago, I’d had a one-track mind—find the girl in the silk dress. I’d taken off after her like a bullet, shooting the man in thekitchen. Put that Russian out of his misery and the dogs that turned on me, too. Now, I stood again, prepared to fulfill a decades-old promise.
Push past the pain, Jamie. Get Jordyn to safety.Panic carried me like a hurricane wind. My breath, though heavy, locked in a rhythm. Combat mode.
My brain filtered through every threat and angle until I set eyes on her again. Running like hell. Then I saw what Jordyn didn’t—two more guards.
Oh, c’mon. How had I forgotten? There were ten of them. Leith had gone through the front—hopefully taking out the two guards that remained outside, and on my way to Jordyn, I’d taken out all but the two.
The guards circled away from the gate, cutting her off. One flanked near a greenhouse. The other ran around it, rifle raised.
The man closest to Jordyn lifted the butt of his rifle, probably to slam it against the side of her head.Good. They wanted her alive.
I didn’t hesitate. I’d spent most of my life hesitating until becoming a Marine and wouldn’t go back to that cowering little boy. I lifted Denis’s handgun and squeezed the trigger. A bullet struck the back of the Russian’s head. I’d given away my position. The other armed man turned toward me.
While still running forward, I sighted the center of his forehead and fired.Click. Click.
