Page 67 of Blazing Embers

“Hello?”

“Sabrina!” I keep my voice steady, but tears sting the back of my eyes and burn my throat. I don't have much time, so I have to stay focused. But hearing her voice is nearly my undoing.

“T—” Sabrina chokes.”Where are you?”

“I can’t talk for long.” My voice is rushed, breathless, and my heart is beating frantically as I try not to dissolve into a puddle of tears. “I’m okay. But I won’t be for long if you don’t get Mom to call off that fucking PI. He’s not who you think he is. He’s working for some nasty people.”

“What?” Sabrina sounds confused. “What are you talking about? I— I had a feeling, but?—”

“I mean it, Rina. Please. Promise me. Get her to stop,” I urge.

“I will. I’ll try. Just—Tara, where the hell are you?” Sabrina asks, and I can hear the urgency in her voice, and my heart breaks. I want to ask about Elena, about everything, and tell her what's happened, but I know I can't.

Gunfire cracks, making my ears ring., My head swivels, and I barely hang onto the receiver as I see Clyde stagger, gripping his stomach. I freeze. My heart lurches.

“Run, Tara! Get the fuck out of here!” Clyde shouts at me.

“You’ve been shot!” I yell back, dropping the receiver back on the cradle and running toward him.

But Clyde doesn’t go down. He moves like lightning, disarming the twin with the gun and using the man's body as a battering ram as he hurtles into his brother. The twins go tumbling over each other as he shoves.

“GO!” Clyde yells at me. His shirt is red from his blood which is now dripping down his legs.

“I’m not leaving you!”

He grips my arm with a bloodied hand. “You have to,” he pants.

“No.” I look around. “There....” I point to a car. It's an old model, but the window is open. “It's begging to be taken.”

I shove Clyde in the car and find the keys in the visor. My hands shake so badly as I see the twins right themselves, but I manage to get the key in the ignition and pull off. I drive Clyde to the nearest hospital. It's not that far away.

“Tara just dump me at the door. Those Russian carbon copies will be here in a flash,” Clyde says through gritted teeth.

“No!” I say. Pulling him from the car and half-dragging the big lug into the hospital, screaming as I rush through the door.

The next minute, we're surrounded by nurses and doctors from the emergency room.

He shoves his phone into my palm. “Call safe house five. They will know what to do.”

I find the number and call. It connects.

“I need a table for one and would like table number five,” I say before anyone answers.

“Five minutes,” a clipped voice replies.

I look up as they start to wheel Clyde away. I run toward them and shove the phone in his pocket, kissing his cheek. “Go,” Clyde whispers.

“Miss, you have to wait out here,” a nurse tells me.

My heart is thudding like a trapped bird. I hate what I'm about to do, but I turn and flee.

As I hit the street, I see them. The Russian twins. Ruslan's brothers. I turn and run as fast as I can. Trying to ignore the nausea rising in my throat. My hands protect my belly as my feet thud on the pavement.

Dodge. Duck. And I see the alley. Safe house number five. It's more of an extraction point as it's just a blind alley. I’m winded when I get there, heart pounding, my eyes are wild as I scan the area. Jesus, where is it?

A cracking noise comes from above, and the line drops.

Before I can scream, it snaps tight beneath my arms, lifting me into the air.

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