Page 34 of Thorns of Love
Adrian laughed. Maniacally. Sardonic.
He spit on the ground, blood and saliva mixing in his mouth. “You fucking Konstantins always have to get your way.”
“And you, fucker, should have never come after us,” I growled. “You had to drag your wife into it.”
“My wife,” he hissed. “Remember that.”
Red mist worked into my vision. My blood roared in my ears. I reacted and punched him in the face. Hard.
“End him,” I hissed.
Bang.
It was that simple. Adrian’s body fell to the ground, blood seeped through his shirt, spreading like a red lake.
“I fucking vouch for her, Marchetti.” The anger vibrated through my voice, my veins electrified with it. If I had to kill every member of the Omertà myself, I’d do it. For her, I’d do anything. “If she has the chip, I’ll retrieve it. If she was part of it, I’ll handle it.”
Adrian bled on the ground. He might already be dead, I didn’t give a shit. Tatiana Nikolaev was my only concern.
“Fine.” The invisible rope around my chest eased up and oxygen flooded back into my brain. Thank fuck. Fighting Marchetti wasn’t on my agenda. I had to get Tatiana to the hospital.
I rushed to the flipped car. I’d done my share of killing. Blood was never an issue. But seeing the blood staining Tatiana’s pale blonde hair from the open split on her forehead was something else entirely. I was ready to lose my fucking mind seeing her in that state.
Kneeling on the dirty gravel, I extended my hand and reached for her.
“Grab my hand,” I urged her.
The look in her eyes, full of trust and desperation, was like a punch in the gut. The fighter and rebel vanished in front of my eyes, being replaced by fear.
She shifted, reaching for my hand. She strained against the airbag.
Losing her strength, she slumped, her face stained with blood, dirt, and tears. “You can do it. Don’t you fucking give up.”
It was one thing this woman never did. She wasn’t the type to give up.
I leaned closer and growled, “Give me your hand, moya luna. Don’t you fucking give up.”
Her shoulder was fucked up too. Goddamn it. She was in a bad state. She reached out again for me. She kept trying, a frustrated cry leaving her lips.
“I don’t want to die,” she whimpered.
The words sliced through my chest. Her pain felt like my own. My fucking heart and soul were so attuned to hers. Yes, I barely crossed her mind, but she was always on my mind.
“You’re not dying,” I hissed with determination. I’d hunt down God if he dared take her away from me. “Just another inch and I got you.”
She pushed herself, wincing as she tried. She looked fucking battered and fury swelled in my chest all over again. I wanted to punish Adrian for putting her in that position. He should have left her and then gone after his fucking revenge.
Our fingers brushed and her exhale shattered through the tension in my bones. I wrapped my fingers around hers. Then I held on.
For her. For me. For us.
Because it was always meant to be us.
“I’m pulling you out,” I said with determination. “It might hurt. Whatever you do, never let go. Understood?”
She nodded, gritting her teeth. She was in pain, but I had to do this before the car went up in flames.
“You’re doing well,” I praised, gritting my teeth as a piece of glass sliced into my forearm. I tried to shift my arm to ensure it didn’t cut into her.
