Page 54 of Savage Princess

I twist in the arms of the man holding me, stomping on his foot with my heel before I drive my knee up hard into his balls. He groans, doubling over as I slip out of his grasp, making a break for the car. My skirt rips again as I trip over it, but I ignore it, flinging myself into the passenger’s seat of the car just as the other man gets in—and I grab for the gun that I see in the back of his suit trousers, just as he turns to slide into the car.

There’s no time to stop and think about what I’m doing. No time to consider how much worse this could make things. All I know is that I have to get Levin out of here, and there’s no telling who else might get the same idea this man had.

I pull the trigger, and I fire.

The bullet goes into his lower spine, sending him pitching forward onto the concrete of the garage. I scramble over the seat, not bothering to wait and see if he moves before I twist the key in the ignition, throwing the car into gear.

I feel the bump as I accelerate, and the car goes over part of the man’s body. I’m almost certain I’ve killed him, and a cold feeling sweeps through me, but I don’t have time to think about it. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I know I’m as likely to get us killed this way as get us to safety, but it’s the only thing I can think of.

“Elena.” Levin groans from the backseat as I speed towards the exit, my heart pounding so hard that I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. “Do you know–how–to–”

“No,” I tell him honestly. “But I’ve got to get you to a hospital.”

“Not–a hospital–” he chokes out, coughing between words. “Can’t–go. Motel.”

The words sound thick in his throat, and I feel like I’m cold down to my bones. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I pull out onto the road, and it occurs to me that I wouldn’t even know how to get to a hospital or where one is here. I’ve never had to find my way anywhere on my own. Since I’ve been away from home, I’ve followed Levin to wherever we needed to go. Now, at any moment, it could be entirely up to me to get us somewhere safe.

“You’re bleeding out.” My voice sounds unnaturally calm to my ears, as I pull out onto the road, my heart in my throat. The car jerks and shudders as I press down on the gas, going too fast and easing off too quickly, then lurching forward again. I hear Levin groan from the backseat, and I wince. “You need a doctor.”

“Motel. Get–there.”

I hear him exhale, and I feel a chilling fear that he’s passed out or worse. The silence from the backseat is deafening, and I turn sharply down a road, feeling the car skid a little as I jerk the wheel in the other direction. Levin lets out another low moan of pain, and I feel tears prick at the corner of my eyes. I know my driving is making everything worse, and it feels horrible. I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life. I’m terrified that he’s going to die, and there’s going to be nothing I can do about it.

I drive until the streets start to look rougher and the buildings more shabby, to the first cheap-looking motel I can find. The car shudders to a stop as I pull into a dark corner parking spot—or at least make an attempt—and I’m out of the car while it’s still running, opening the door to the back where Levin is slumped over in the seat.

“Levin!” I almost shout his name, reaching for him. “Levin, please. Levin—”

“Pocket,” he slurs, his words running together, and I feel my heart drop when I see how drenched his shirt is with his blood. “Money.”

“Okay,” I whisper, reaching into his jacket pocket. I find the money there and pull out the folded bills, some of them a little blood-stained. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to go pay for a room.”

I try to pull out the least blood-spotted bills, walking quickly toward where I think I’ll find a hotel clerk. My heart is pounding in my throat—with every step, I’m terrified that I’ll come back to find Levin dead, from bleeding out in the back of the car. And then what? What would I do?

I don’t have the faintest idea. And I don’t want to have to find out.

The hotel employee who takes the money barely looks at it. They hand me a key on a plastic ring, and it’s all I can do not to bolt back to the car, but I don’t want to draw attention. I don’t want anyone to remember the girl running frantically across the parking lot.

“Levin?” I whisper his name this time when I get back to the car. “I’ve got a room. We’ve got to get you to it, okay? I can’t lift you all on my own, so I need your help. Just a few minutes, and you’ll be in a bed.”

I speak in the calmest voice I can as I start to tug him to the edge of the seats, trying to get him far enough out of the car that I can get him up with whatever assistance he can give me. When I reach to put my arm around the back of his neck, his skin feels clammy and cold, and for a moment, I think he’s passed out entirely. I feel a flash of fear, because I know I’m not strong enough to get him out of the car if he’s dead weight.

He groans as he tries to pull himself up with my help, and in the faint glow of a dying parking lot light, I can see that the entire lower half of his shirt is red, the fabric clinging wetly to his body.

It feels as if it takes forever to get to the room. I’ve never been so grateful for one on the ground level. Levin is slumped against me as I fiddle with the key, on the verge of crumpling to the pavement, knocking me over, or both. It’s all I can do to hold back tears as I push the door open, feeling as if I’m very close to panicking. The only thing keeping me from it is that I know that if I fall apart, Levin will die. I have to find out a way to help him.

There’s one queen-sized bed in the center of the room, and he collapses onto it harder than I meant for him to. Heedless of the duvet, I strip off his jacket, throwing it to one side as I reach for the buttons of his shirt. The fabric is sodden with blood, streaking my palms as I pull it away from his flesh, and I gasp when I see the wound in his side.

“Elena.” He whispers my name, and I choke back tears.

“I’ll be right back.” I swallow hard, the words coming out half-strangled as I make a beeline for the bathroom. There’s no first-aid kit beneath the sink, as I’d expected, but I grab a towel and washcloth, heading back to Levin as I pull his shirt off and wad up the towel, pressing it to his side as I try to tie the shirt around him and keep pressure on the wound.

“No–good–” he mumbles. “Gonna–bleed–”

The words are thicker than before, almost unintelligible. “No,” I tell him sharply, pressing down on the towel. “You’re not going to bleed out. You’re going to be fine. Okay?”

I reach up with one hand, cupping it against his jaw. His skin is cold and clammy, and I wince at the feeling of it against my palm. His eyelids are half-open, but I can see his eyes starting to roll back as if he’s on the verge of passing out.

“You said your job was to protect me. That’s all you talk about.I can’t sleep with you, Elena, you’re my job. You’re a mission. You need to be protected.Well, you can’t protect me if you’re dead. So I need you to stay alive, okay?”

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