Page 27 of The Pakhan's Arranged Bride
“It’s okay. Where are you off to in such a rush?” I step back, straightening my clothes and dusting my hands over my top.
“I have to get to work. I hope you have a lovely day.”
I smile and step aside, letting him pass. “You too, Jadon.”
As soon as he’s out of sight, I bolt into action, grabbing my phone, keys, a black baseball cap and running out to my car.I don’t have a gun on me, but I have a very elegant knife strapped to my ankle beneath my jeans.
Nestor was always against me carrying a gun, but I think it’s time for me to invest in one.
Jadon is already gone by the time I get out, but it’s fine. I know which warehouse Benedikt is working at today. It’s a busy port on the edge of the docks, fifteen minutes from here.
Being cautious, I park some distance away. My car is rather obvious, and I don’t want anyone spotting it or telling Benedikt I’m here. If Miron is in the area or if they have information about him, I will discover it for myself.
Sneaking up to the warehouse is easier than I expected it to be. There is a lot of noise coming from inside; something is going on, and people sound panicked about it.
I stand near a small side door. It’s cracked open just enough for me to peek inside without being seen.
Benedikt’s employees are rushing around a crate. People are shouting orders, telling others to get it on the forklift, to move it.
I don’t know what’s in the crate, but they aren’t happy about it.
Some of the guys are shaking their heads, others are moving away from it, fearful.
It takes my full strength to tug the door further open, wide enough for me to slip through to get into the warehouse, but as I’m about to, movement catches the corner of my eye, and I turn my head just in time to see Miron running across the open space between this warehouse and the next one.
He’s headed towards the docks.
The sight of him causes my entire body to freeze. Rigid with anger, fear and hatred, I’m frozen for a second as emotion overwhelms me before I manage to pull myself out of it. I won’t let him get away. He has to pay for what he’s done. Turning from the door, I run after him.
Just as I push away from the warehouse, there is a deafening crash.
It’s like thunder, but too close, too heavy.
A shockwave pulses through the air and I’m thrown to the ground by the pressure of it.
My face hits the ground as I skid along the dirt for a few feet.
My ears are ringing as I choke on dust, stirred up beneath me.
I blink, confused and disoriented. My body hurts.
From behind me, I hear screaming, men shouting in pain. It pulls me from my stupor. They need help.
Pushing myself to my knees, I glance in the direction I saw Miron running. While I hate the idea of him getting away, knowing he must be responsible for this, he is no longer my priority.
The chaos behind me sounds far more urgent.
People need help.
I scramble to my feet, head spinning, and for a second, I’m sure I’m going to pass out, but I don’t.
Turning back to the warehouse, I see the small door has been blown clean off the hinges. I gasp in horror as I run through it, into the smoke-filled space of destruction.
Whatever was in the crate exploded. The remains of the crate are on fire, along with other crates that were nearby. Everything is shattered, with men scrambling around the mess to pull their friends and co-workers to safety, trying to help those who are injured.
I snap into action, running towards a man lying on the ground, rolling in pain, clutching at his face.
“Hey, hey, look at me. I’m going to help you,” I shout, grabbing his attention.
