Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
The man pushes me off of him and uses the corner of the altar to pull himself up.
“Dante!”
Tatiana’s voice is like a shot of adrenaline injected into my veins. I glance in her direction, making out her shape where she’s jumped up behind the altar, looking ready to storm the guy. She’s crazy and brave enough to do it too.
“Stay back,” I yell.
I climb to my feet, just in time to see the man snatch up his gun and the necklace. I dive for my own gun, my fingers closing around the grip as he straightens with his arms standing away from his body, the necklace in one hand and the gun in the other.
We’re facing each other with our guns raised, the barrels aimed at chest level. It’s a dangerous duel. A deadly position. Whoever pulls the trigger first is the man who’ll walk away alive. Or maybe we’ll both die today.
Not taking my eyes off of him, I wipe away the blood that trickles from my nose. “Drop it.”
“You first.”
He has a Russian accent. Why doesn’t that surprise me?
A grin stretches my lips. I’m a damn good shot, lightning fast, and everyone in the city knows it. He’s not tightening his finger on the trigger. If he does, he’s finished. The knowledge flashes in his bloodshot eyes. He stands frozen, a millisecond ticking past. I can already taste the victory on my tongue.
“Drop the weapon.” My voice is low. Calculated. “If you don’t, you’re a dead man.”
“You’ll shoot me anyway.”
“I’ll cut you a deal. Give me the name of who you work for, and I won’t shoot you.” I’ll just kill him with my bare hands.
If he doesn’t want to die on the spot, he doesn’t have a choice. He can shoot me, but I’ll shoot back before the bullet has left his barrel. He’ll still be a corpse, and that’s not an option for him. It’s evident in the fear that flickers in his gaze.
Slowly, he relaxes his grip on the gun.
Good.
But then he moves the gun away from me, sharply to the right, and pulls the trigger.
The gasp that rises behind me turns my body to stone. The blood in my veins ices over. I act on pure instinct, pulling the trigger as the man ducks behind the stasidion. I don’t have to look behind me to know that my worst nightmare is about to play out in front of me. But I do. I look, and then I stop breathing.
Tatiana stands to the side, bent over and clutching her stomach. Blood oozes through her fingers and drips down her coat. In the shady light of the moon, the puddle growing too fast on the floor is black. And I die a thousand deaths.
“Dante,” she gasps, her gaze locked on the space at my back.
Another shot rings out.
I step in front of her and turn the barrel toward the shadow that moves along the wall. Keeping low, the man runs for the exit as he fires a few wild misaimed shots in my direction.
I can go after him. I’ll easily catch him. With that bulk on his body, I’ll run him in before he makes it to the corner. I can reclaim the necklace and end him slowly while savoring his screams. I can kill Teszner and finally avenge Lee. Everything I’ve planned for years, I can bring to fruition. It can all be over. I can be free.
But Tatiana will bleed out long before then. By the time I’ve made a phone call, it may be too late. That’s what the motherfucker bargained on. Because he knew what my choice would be, that for me, there can only ever be one choice.
I’m shaking inside, not only with rage but also with the knowledge that what I hold dearest in the world may be ripped from me, that I may lose what I value most, and as it turns out, it’s not the necklace.
I can’t think about that. I can’t let my feelings get in the way. If I’m to save her, I have to shut my emotions down and be the soldier I’ve trained all my life to be.
Rushing to my wife, I lift her into my arms. “Hold on, do you hear me? You don’t get to die here tonight.”
Chapter
Forty-Three
Tatiana
* * *
A steady beep sounds in my ears. Lights flash behind my closed eyelids. I try to lift my hand but fail.
No.
Not the trunk.
Panic surfaces and with it, pain.
So much pain.
“Tatiana.”
A soft whisper from a deep, gravelly voice. A gentle touch on my arm.
“Tatiana, darling.” A calloused fingertip traces my knuckles. “Can you hear me?”
I fight against the pull that keeps me on the edge of consciousness. It feels as if my eyelids are glued together. It’s difficult to open them.
When I finally manage, I’m met by stark white walls and a curtainless window.