Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Okay, done.” I gripped the knife in my hand and slowly arose, hand behind me.
When I rounded the island’s side, Aleksandr shot me a glare. “At-at!”
With my back arched, I pretended to massage the base of my spine. “Ugh. My back hurts. I hit the sink when Elrick came inside.”
The lie seemed to satisfy Aleksandr. “Let’s go.” A savage grin twisted his face. He turned around.
I rushed forward, lifted the knife, and stabbed it in his back. The Russian staggered and spun around. He aimed his gun straight at my face.
Reflexes squeezed my eyes shut. I had no cover, no time, and no strength to fight him. This was the moment I died.
I wouldn’t get to marry Jamie, make love to him, or have his babies. I wouldn’t get to be the mother that I wasn’t sure my momma wanted to be. So many thoughts tumbled through my mind while I waited for the light. Or the absolute darkness I already knew well since it seemed like hell had permeated the earth.
33
BIG BEAR
Jamie
Enzo and I had split up. He’d take out the sniper while I worked my way back down to the cabin, ending the lives of three additional Russians in my wake. One stuck his head around a tree one too many times. Another left a knee exposed, and I blew it to smithereens. His buddy came to help, and I drilled them both. No bullets chased after me, so I began to sprint the second I cleared the trees. My breath came fast in white plumes. The silver glinted lake—frozen, silent, untouched to my left, the deck—also silent and ominous to my right.
If not for the bullets wedged into the wood, I’d swear this wasn’t a kill zone. I crouched at the railed steps in front of the deck, finger on the trigger, eyes scanning inside the house.
A chunk of ice exploded inches from my head. I bit out a curse and ducked, heart hammering in my chest.
Another report. This time, not the sharp clap of a sniper rifle. I guessed Enzo got our friend. I rushed up the steps and over the deck into the house.
My only focus—Jordyn.
She was still breathing.
Still fighting.
I refused to let Aleksandr take her. Not again.
But she moved between us—blocking my direct shot—as she drove a knife into his back.
He spun; eyes locked onto her. Gun lifted—
I crashed through the threshold like a freight train, the business end of the rifle up before my feet cleared the doorway. I dropped sideways, pivoting to line up the shot. And fired.
BAM.
BAM.
Two shots—center mass. The Russian jerked back. His firearm slipped from his grasp, and he crumpled to his knees, planting face first on the wood floor. The butcher’s knife wedged into his spine.
Jordyn remained motionless. Eyes closed.
“Jordyn …” I approached her slowly. In my peripheral, Mam pressed a dishtowel against Brody’s chest. No. His shoulder. Blood was everywhere. But I had to shake my girl out of the shock first. No one should ever live like that. Stuck in purgatory.
“Jordyn, look at me.” I came in front of her.
Chest heaving with each uneven breath, wild-eyed, she surrendered to a panic attack.
“You’re okay—you’re okay, JorJor. Look at me.” My hand rested on her chest. The powerful, erratic drum of her heart against my palm nearly undid me. Jordyn flinched, then squeezed my hand, holding me against her. My other hand rubbed at the bleeding gash over my brow. The sweat. Not from exertion but the pure fury I’d restrained long enough for the kill shot.
Her voice cracked. “Jamie …”
Eyes closed, she let herself sink into my arms.
Outside, the faint wail of sirens broke through the trees. Shoot. I had some explaining to do. Before then, something else called to me. I picked Jordyn up, planting her on the edge of the counter. I leaned in, forehead brushing hers. I kissed her. A soft, hungry kiss with unspoken words—regret that this would end in less than a second. Longing, protection. A promise of forever love. My hands went into her thick hair. Jordyn’s fingers clutched my shirt like she might crumple into an anxious fit the second my lips left hers.
I kissed her harder. Lost myself in this moment. When we broke, my brain starved for oxygen, but my heart starved for more. My forehead rested against hers. For a nanosecond longer, we had peace.
Then, a police officer shouted over the bullhorn for everyone to exit the house, hands up. Proper protocol. Made sense.
Jordyn shook her head. “Don’t go.”
Mam said, “I’ll—”
“Nae.” I pressed my lips to Jordyn’s once more. “I’ve got this.”
Leaning heavily on the counter, Brody asked through clenched teeth, “What will you tell them, Jamie?” He now held the towel to stanch the bleeding.
“I’ve just got my son back.” Mam started after me. “You have to be a man. But let me—”