Page 102 of Fierce Pursuit

Didn’t register the shift in the air.

Because I was staring at that bill, so absorbed in trying to decode what the numbers meant that I missed it.

The warning came too late.

BOOM.

The door exploded inward, the splintering wood a violent crack against the walls.

Fuck.

I was already moving, my fingers closing around the gun at the back of my waistband, spinning to fire. Too slow. I was too fucking slow.

A man stepped through the wreckage, icy blond hair, a jagged scar running down the side of his face.

The gun in his hand already up.

Already aimed.

Already pulling the trigger.

CRACK.

The first bullet slammed into my shoulder, a white-hot explosion of pain.

CRACK.

The second ripped through muscle, throwing me backward.

Marina’s scream split the air. “Kostya!”

My vision blurred; the world tilted as I hit the floor.

Pain.

Pain.

And blood.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to move. To get up. To fight.

But I couldn’t.

Not yet.

And that hesitation—those few stolen seconds—might have just cost me everything.

CHAPTER 28

KOSTYA

The pain in my shoulder was intense.

Sharp, stabbing, burning, but it didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was Marina’s safety.

I fired two shots at the man who shot me, dead man number one.

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