Page 64 of Heart of a Devil

I grin up at him. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

“Here they come,” Seb mutters, pulling his gun out. It’s an awkward angle, but he manages to position the barrel at his line of vision by poking it through the viewing slot of the hide. I’m desperate to see what’s going on out there, but I do as I’m told and stay down. He doesn’t need me distracting him right now, and Taylor is looking decidedly pale sitting next to me. I pat his hand, and he offers me a wan smile.

I know it’s coming, but when the gun fires twice in rapid succession in such a small space, the noise is deafening. I flinch and belatedly slam my palms over my ears.

“They’re down.” There’s a note of satisfaction in Seb’s voice. “For good. Can’t be arsed going for the legs. The cunts wouldn’t show us any mercies. Lauren, stay where you are, sweetheart, while me and Taylor double-check. I mean, their heads are splattered, but it always pays to make sure.”

I acquiesce, for once completely passive. Those shots are still ringing in my ears, I’m exhausted, and my adrenaline is doing a tap dance around my nervous system. I have zero desire to get up close and personal with splattered brains on top of all that. Taylor climbs to his feet and follows Seb outside.

I manage to get upright and watch through the slot in the wood as they cautiously approach the two fallen Russians. Even from here it’s a grim sight, the trampled grass painted red with shining blood and gore. Seb kicks them both hard and seems satisfied when there’s no response. He looks at Taylor and holds out his hand to shake. Looks like he’s finally satisfied that the boy is on his side. In our messed-up world, it’s a real Hallmark moment.

As he reaches out to take Seb’s hand, Taylor’s face changes—his pleased smile transforms into a look of shock and fury, and he throws himself bodily at Seb, screaming his name and knocking him flat to the ground. Seb yells at him and pushes him off, rolling him onto his back.

“What the fuck, Taylor?” he says, before his face goes pale. I follow his line of sight to the bright red stain spreading across the younger man’s T-shirt, turning the once-white fabric a sickening shade of crimson.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

LAUREN

Seb looks up and around, on full alert, and meets my panicked eyes through the peephole. He doesn’t speak but gives a barely noticeable shake of the head. I get the message. He wants me to stay hidden and stay quiet. I look on helplessly as Seb cradles Taylor’s head in his lap, trying to apply pressure to the wound and stem the bleeding. “You’re all right, mate, stay with me,” he says.

His hands are covered in blood. Too much blood. How can anyone lose that much blood and live?

That bullet was meant for Seb, and now Taylor is spilling his life essence onto the grass. My hands claw against the wood, and I suck in a breath as I see what Taylor obviously saw, what Seb has also seen—the seventh man. Ivan Volkov himself strolls out from a gap in the trees, a rifle in his hands. He’s dressed head to toe in black like his men were, but there’s no mistaking his face up close. The photos I’ve seen didn’t really do him justice—he looks even more like a rat in person, his narrow buck-toothed face perched on top of a bulked-up body. I wonder how a woman like Caroline ever looked twice at him, but a little charisma goes a long way. He made her feel special, like a princess—right up until he locked her away in his tower and started abusing her.

“Mr. Donovan,” he says, smiling smugly. “We meet in person at last. I spent the last few days getting to know you and your associates really very well. Your beautiful daughter. Your partner, Mr. Sullivan. And, of course, Ms. Hayes herself. All of you seemed to think it was acceptable to interfere in my marriage, in my family life. You all seemed to think there would be no consequences. How foolish of you all, and thatmudakStepanov, to assume such a thing. He will be dealt with, I promise—but for now, I will settle for you and your friend Ms. Hayes. We know she was here with you.”

Seb spits on the ground in front of Volkov. If he expects Seb to be scared, he clearly hasn’t studied him all that well. “She’s gone,” Seb says. “Sent her packing at the first sign of trouble. She was a fucking liability, and I wanted rid of her. She’ll be halfway to a police station by now.”

Volkov raises an eyebrow and seems to be trying to decide whether to believe him or not. “I see. Well, not to worry, I’ll search this place very thoroughly before I leave. One way or another, I’ll track her down. And when I do, I’ll teach her a few lessons about respecting the boundaries of other people’s marriages, the interfering bitch. I have clients who will pay well for a fiery beauty like her.”

He looks at his dead men and shrugs. “Impressive. You’ve led us all on quite the merry dance, Mr. Donovan. But it is over now, yes? You can join your brave friend there in the afterlife.”

Seb keeps his eyes on Volkov, refusing to spare a glance in my direction. Will he fight? Will he risk attacking Volkov or trying to run? He won’t have a chance from his position on the ground, pinned down by the other man’s weapon.

I know what Seb wants me to do. He wants me to stay silent, stay hidden, stay safe. Above all else, he wants me to survive. But as Volkov walks toward Seb, raising his gun and pointing it at his head, I can’t stand the thought of doing any of those things.All my life I’ve tried to be safe, and it hasn’t worked. Danger and darkness find me wherever I go, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s good, because how can we ever appreciate the light if we don’t also walk in the dark?

If I stay hidden here, I might survive. But what will my world look like without him in it? How would I ever recover from watching the man I love get his head blown off by a wife-beating, child-abusing, human-trafficking psychopath?

The two of them continue to talk, but I’m so distressed and hyped up that I can’t make out individual words. They’re just a dull buzzing sound at the edges of my hearing. Seb looks up and smiles at the trees overhead. Volkov raises his gun. His finger is on the trigger, and he can’t possibly miss at this distance.

No. I am Lauren fucking Montoya, and I will not hide.

Chapter

Thirty-Six

SEBASTIAN

Iam running every possible angle through my mind as I glare up at the bastard. Everything has gone wrong so quickly. I’m struggling to make sense of it, and Taylor’s blood flowing red and warm and sticky around my fingers isn’t helping. The kid saved my life, and now I can’t tell if he’s breathing.

Worse than that, Lauren is vulnerable. There’s only a flimsy bit of wood between her and this lunatic. I have no doubt that he means every word he says—he’d throw her to the wolves and let the predators he mixes with tear her to pieces. It might take hours, it might take years, but they would tear her to pieces. My beautiful, brave girl deserves so much better. It’s that thought breaking me, not the sight of the gun barrel or the fact that I’m about to die. We all fucking die, and getting shot in the head in the woods isn’t the worst way for a man like me to go. But leaving her to Volkov’s nonexistent mercy? That’s making my guts churn and my mouth go dry. I need one more play. I need one more way to neutralize this cunt and keep her safe, even if it means the end of me.

I could tell him who she is—that she’s a Montoya. Or does he already know? Would he care? I wouldn’t want Alejandro as an enemy, but Volkov is arrogant. Like Caroline said, he doesn’tthink the rules apply to him, and it looks like she was fucking well right. We underestimated him, and now the only thing I can do is make sure that Lauren doesn’t pay the price.

I grab up a handful of dirt as I crouch there before him. Rolling it in my hand, I wait for my moment. All I need to do is get some in his eyes. If I can distract him for even a second, I’m in with a chance. In that second, I could get to my gun, or I could tackle him—the man’s big, but I have no doubt I can take him. But while he has that Makarov pointing right at my head, I’m helpless.

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