Page 29 of Sip
“?????!”
Cunt.Funny how the Lithuanians always swear in Russian rather than their native language. Not funny how the bastard kicks Shane in the jaw and my brother topples to the side from his savagery.
This time Kipras screams before he rears back and slams his boot into his rib cage. “I said, ‘Where’s the girl?’”
Grace.
He wants my pixie angel.
He breathes his last breath.
Bullets fly from the attack with men scurrying to shoot and dodge death simultaneously. The perfect time for my assassination. With a flick of the wrist, the knife slashes right between Kipras’s shoulder blades. Although the wound feels like shit the injury won’t kill him. Not yet anyway. I’ll have the pleasure of playing with him before I finally end him for assuming he’d survive trying to steal my girl.
I’ll enjoy that later. Now I have to answer the shots being fired my way from their boss hitting the tile. Good to see him on his knees now.
I pluck off the two men closest to Shane to quell the immediate threat. Good timing as the bigger imbecile had his carving knife perched above Shane’s thigh. A prickling sensation spreads over my skin, and I pause despite the peril. I scan the huge area and when I reach the front door, heat blazes through my body. Sweat explodes across my skin dampening my clothes to stick to me as I rush toward Grace and her captor.
Grace with a forearm to her throat.
Grace with a gun to her temple.
Grace with terror in her eyes.
The man’s gaze darts all over the space, searching for his boss. His eyes widen from Kipras down and our men back in control. Uncertain what to do, who’s direction to follow, his grip on her tightens, lifting her little feet from the ground in his choke hold. Panic leads to mistakes, and I can’t allow him to give in to his uncertainty. “Let her go and your death will be painless.”
That’s the only offer I can make because he will die, and we both know it. The idiot shakes his head.
“Back up. Back the fuck up.”
Stupid. He’s got nothing. Except my world in his hands.
I step closer.
He caresses the trigger.
She closes her eyes.
No!
“We’re walking out that door and you’re not following us.”
The hell I’m not.
When he moves, she does too. Twisting the huge diamond ring on her finger, she rakes her hands down his forearm. Realizing now that she’s fighting him, he twists to control her but it’s too late. She slams her small fist backward into his crotch. Not hard but enough to make him wince and drop her as he leans forward to protect his jewels. As she tumbles, I mutilate the top of his head with a spray of bullets.
“Killian!”
Her cry of my name ends his punishment, and I scoop her off the floor. I carry her out of the foyer, not giving a damn what I’m leaving behind. In the dining room, I sit her on the table. Breathless gasps bubble in her mouth wreck me, but I have to examine her. If she’s not okay, I won’t be either. I rub down her arms and legs feeling nothing but her dry clothes. I lean her forward to rest her forehead on my chest and flip up her hair while she hugs me. No bumps or blood on her head. My exhale finally releases, and I sit her back to cup her face. She cries in my palms which destroys me but I’ll take her tears everyday if she’s alive. “Are you all right?”
She nods between my hands. “Yes, but Ansel. He hit him over the head. We need to get him.”
“We will.”
But first I have to hold her. My arms snake around her trembling body, and I suck in her sweetness, flooding my lungs with her sugary innocence. Voices interrupt my reverie. They shout instructions to get help for my brother. To call the doctor. To find me.
“Is Shane hurt?”
Jealousy that she cares about him too rages inside of me. Of course, she worries about him. He’s her husband. I growl into the side of her throat. “Yeah, but he’ll be fine.”
