Page 84 of Triplet Babies
That split second of distraction is all Yarik needs. He moves with the fluid grace of a trained killer, diving to his right as Katya’s gun tracks toward him. The shot is deafeningly loud in the enclosed space, the muzzle flash temporarily blinding.
Yarik stumbles as the bullet catches his shoulder, spinning him around and sending him crashing into the antique desk near the window. Blood sprays across the white wall behind him in a crimson arc, but he doesn’t go down. His weapon remains in his hand, and he keeps moving with grim determination, rolling behind the bed for cover as he returns fire.
The sound of his gunshot is even louder than Katya’s, and she ducks behind the chair where I was sitting as plaster explodes from the wall beside her head. She’s no longer in complete control of the situation, and the panic in her movements shows it.
“You bastard,” Katya screams, her composure completely shattered. She tries to track him with the gun, firing blindly around the edge of the chair. The bullets punch holes in the expensive furniture and shatter the window behind me, sending glass cascading to the floor.
That’s when I surge up from the chair, no longer pretending to be bound. The sudden movement catches her attention, and she starts to turn the weapon toward me, her face contorted with rage and desperation.
I throw myself at her from the side, using the momentum from standing to drive her away from her cover. We crash into the wall beside the shattered window, both struggling for control of the weapon. The gun barrel waves wildly as we fight, and I’m terrified it might go off accidentally and hit Yarik or me in the stomach. I shouldn’t be fighting like this in my condition, but there’s no choice.
She’s stronger than she looks, full of lean muscle and desperate fury wrapped in an expensive dress that’s now torn and disheveled. Her elbow catches me in the ribs when I twist at the last minute to keep it from hitting my abdomen, where she was aiming. The blow drives the air from my lungs and making stars explode across my vision. I taste blood where I bite my tongue, but I don’t let go of her gun hand.
“You stupid little whore!” Katya spats the words at me while trying to twist the weapon toward my face. Her perfectly manicured nails rake across my cheek, leaving burning scratches in their wake. “You’ve ruined everything.”
I drive my knee into her kidney with all the force I can muster, and she gasps in pain, her grip on the gun loosening slightly.That gives me the leverage I need to slam her gun hand against the wall repeatedly until her fingers spasm open.
The weapon clatters to the floor between us, and we both lunge for it simultaneously. Katya’s longer reach gives her an advantage, but I’m more desperate. I grab the barrel while she grasps the grip, and we roll across the floor in a deadly tug-of-war.
Glass from the broken window cuts into my arms and legs as we struggle, and I hear Yarik moving behind the bed, trying to get a clear shot without risking hitting me. Blood from both our injuries makes everything slippery and hard to grip.
“I should have killed you the first day you walked onto that estate,” she says, her face inches from mine as we fight. Spittle flies from her lips, and her pale eyes are wide with wrath. “You’re nothing and nobody, but you destroyed my perfect plan.”
I manage to wrench the gun away from her, but she immediately lunges for it again, digging her fingernails into my wrists as she tries to pry it from my hands. The weapon feels impossibly heavy and alien, and like nothing I’m used to.
“Sarah? “Yarik’s voice cuts through the chaos, urgent and commanding. “Get clear!”
I roll away from Katya, clutching the gun to my chest as she scrambles after me. She’s like a woman possessed, her beautiful face twisted into something ugly as she claws at me with desperate fury. I can’t get clear of her to let Yarik take the shot, because she won’t let me.
The gun feels wrong in my hands, too big and unwieldy, but I manage to wrap my fingers around the grip and find the trigger.Katya realizes what’s happening and throws herself at me one final time, reaching for my throat.
I pull the trigger.
The gunshot seems even louder than before, the recoil jerking my arms upward and nearly sending the weapon flying from my grip. The bullet catches Katya center mass, and she stops mid-lunge as if she’s run into an invisible wall.
She looks down at the spreading red stain on her black dress, pressing her hands against the wound as if she can somehow stop what’s happening. Blood seeps between her fingers, bright and shocking against the dark fabric and her pale skin. “This isn’t... this wasn’t...” she starts to say, then coughs up blood that spatters across the white floor.
Her legs give way, and she crumples to the hardwood in a rapidly expanding pool of crimson that looks obscenely bright against the sterile surfaces. Her breathing becomes shallow and irregular, then stops altogether.
The gun slips from my trembling fingers, clattering against the floor with a sound that seems to echo forever. I stare at what I’ve done, at the woman who was going to kill me and Yarik now lying motionless at my feet, her blood spreading across the perfect white floor like spilled paint. I had no choice. I had to protect my babies, Yarik, and myself. I’m almost numb but also shaking so hard I might shatter into pieces and blow away.
Strong arms encircle me from behind, and I nearly scream again before I recognize Yarik’s scent, his touch, and the way he holds me like I’m something precious that might break. His blood soaks through my clothes where he presses against me, but Idon’t care about anything except that he’s alive and here with me.
“It’s over,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice rough with pain and relief. “You’re safe now. We’re both safe.”
I turn in his arms and see the blood soaking through his shirt, the way he’s favoring his wounded shoulder, the exhaustion and pain etched in every line of his face. “You’re hurt badly.”
“I’m alive. We’re both alive.” He cups my face in his uninjured hand, his thumb brushing away tears I didn’t realize I was shedding. “That’s all that matters right now.”
I collapse against him, letting him support my weight as the adrenaline finally fades and leaves me shaking like a leaf. The room feels impossibly quiet after the gunshots and screaming, broken only by the sound of our breathing and the distant voices of Yarik’s men finally reaching the upper floors.
Katya’s blood continues to spread across the white floor, a stark crimson lake that’s a violent splash of color against the sterile perfection of the room, and I find I can’t look away from it. Yarik holds me tighter, and I let myself believe that finally, we’re free.
28
Yarik
The silence after the gunshot feels deafening. Katya lies motionless on the white floor, her blood spreading across the pristine surface like spilled wine. Sarah trembles in my arms, the gun having fallen from her hands moments after she pulled the trigger.
