Page 79 of Never Distract a Biker

“DaAleck.” They respond grimly.

Then, in English, he says, “There’s been a delay. Due to bad weather. And too many ships are coming in for emergency docking. So, we wait.”

Wait? My heart stumbles, hope flaring unexpectedly in my chest. It’s not much, but it’s something—a sliver of time, a chance Ididn’t think I had. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting, my tears now a mixture of despair and tentative relief. I don’t know how long this delay will last, but I know I have to act.

My mind races, sifting through every possibility, every scrap of a plan. I can’t outrun them—not in my condition. But if I create enough chaos, enough distraction… maybe. Maybe I can hide between one of these many containers till morning.

I draw in a shaky breath, steeling myself. Do it, Scarlett. This is your only chance. The man on my right shifts his grip, his fingers tightening slightly as if sensing my tension. Before he can adjust further, I lunge forward and sink my teeth into his hand as hard as I can.

He howls in pain, jerking back and letting go of me. I don’t wait. I twist away and run, ignoring the shouts and curses erupting behind me. My feet pound against the uneven ground, my arms wrapped protectively around my belly. The cold air cuts into my lungs, but I keep going, my heart hammering wildly.

The dock is a labyrinth of crates and shipping containers, their towering shapes casting jagged shadows under the sparse lighting. I dart between them, adrenaline fueling me despite the ache in my legs and the growing stitch in my side. My breath comes in ragged gasps, but I can’t stop. I can’t let them catch me.

A shout echoes behind me, and then there are running footsteps. Panic surges through me, and I push myself harder, my vision blurring with tears. Please, please, just a little farther—

Something hard slams into the side of my face, and the world begins to spin. I stumble, my knees hitting the ground with a jarring thud. Pain radiates through my cheek, sharp and unforgiving. Before I can recover, a rough hand grabs me by the throat and yanks me upright.

“You think you can run?” the man called Aleck snarls wickedly, his face inches from mine. His breath reeks of tobacco and stale beer, and his grip tightens, cutting off my air. “You’re not going anywhere, bitch.”

I claw at his hand, panic flooding my veins as I struggle for air. My vision darkens at the edges, my body screaming for oxygen. My babies. I can’t die like this. I can’t—

“The instruction is to throw you overboard.” He snarls wickedly. “Doesn’t matter if I throw you dead or alive.”

When darkness begins to claim me, and I’m sure this is the end, the weight on my throat vanishes. The evil Aleck is ripped away from me, and I collapse to the ground, coughing and heaving. I hear a furious roar, followed by the sickening sound of fists meeting flesh. My head spins as I try to make sense of what’s happening.

Through my still blurred vision, I see my savior—Viktor. His movements are swift and brutal, each punch delivered with precision and unrelenting force. The man who had me by the throat crumples under Viktor’s fury, his cries silenced as Viktor’s fists continue to rain down on him.

He came.

My spirit soars with joy.

When it’s over, Viktor stands, his chest heaving. There isn’t a single bead of sweat on him, only the cold, deadly fury that seems to radiate from his very being. He turns to me, his enemy’s blood dripping from clenched fists, and the hardness in his eyes softens instantly.

“Scarlett,” he breathes, kneeling beside me. His hands are gentle as they touch my face, his thumb brushing over the tender spots on my cheek. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I failed you.”

Tears spill over, and I shake my head, my voice trembling. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

His jaw tightens, guilt flickering across his features, but he nods. Carefully, he helps me to my feet, his arm steadying me as I sway unsteadily. “How did you find me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I have my ways,” he says, his tone clipped but reassuring. “I wasn’t going to let you go.”

Before I can respond, a slow clap echoes through the dark space. Viktor tenses immediately, stepping in front of me as Vovka emerges from the shadows.

“Well, well,” Vovka drawls, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “It seems we have a reunion on our hands. How touching.”

The tension crackles like a live wire, the air thick with impending violence. Viktor’s body is a wall of solid protection in front of me, but I can feel his rage simmering beneath the surface.

I clutch his arm tightly, my heart racing as Vovka takes another step toward us. This isn’t over. Not yet. And the danger is far from gone.

37

Viktor

Blood stains my knuckles. It drips from the broken body at my feet and pools across the cracked dock ground like spilled ink, dark and permanent. I don’t hear the man’s shallow groans anymore, though he’s still alive—for now. My chest rises and falls steadily as I pull my gaze from him and turn to Scarlett.

She’s fragile in the dim light, like glass that could shatter with a single touch. Her tear-streaked face looks up at me, and for a second, the world stops. She’s here. Alive. Shaking, but breathing. Relief sears through me, tightening every muscle in my body. I failed her once, and I’ll never let it happen again.

I move toward her, wanting nothing more than to hold her and feel her safe against me. She runs into my arms, and I bite back a groan from how perfectly she fits. Her disheveled state and swollen face have me seeing red and I grind my teeth in a bid tocontrol my murderous rage. Instead, I apologize for letting her down. I know that the tears streaming down her face are from relief, but it pains me because she shouldn’t be here in the first place.

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