Page 42 of The Enemy's Defector
“No.” Arguing with her was instinct. But she was right. If we didn’t figure out something fast, we’d be caught—both of us at once. That wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t let her face any harm or more danger. Regardless of whether I’d verbally claim her as my woman. As far as I was concerned, I’d claimed her physically, and that wasn’t something I would take lightly.
“They’re going—” A gunshot cut her off. Without thinking, without looking, I dragged her close and yanked her down. In the same fluid motion that I used to remove her from anyone’s line of sight, I hunched over her and got my gun out. Only one was available at that safe house, but it was better than nothing.
Aiming quickly, I fired back at the closest man who’d reached us. Our position was terrible. We were outnumbered and surrounded. But that wasn’t going to persuade me to leave her or let her dash off without me. Her odds would always be better with me, dammit.
Two men fell from my shots. I’d hit them at center mass before roving my gaze to check on the others. As they all skidded to stops on their run after us, I catalogued who was where and which ones posed the most harm. With them taking up spots with cover to fire at us again, I realized the circumstances were shifting. If they were comfortable firing at us like this, we were no longer important enough to be kept alive.
“Stay down,” I told Katerina unnecessarily. She wouldn’t do anything stupid. She knew how to survive a shootout.
“But—”
Again, she was cut off by a gunshot. This time, she paired her words with a sharp intake of air and a lunge upward. Instead of obeying what I’djusttold her to do, she stood and knocked me to the side as she shouted, “Look out!”
The impact of her body hitting my side didn’t hurt. She hadn’t knocked me down, but that whistle of a bullet whizzing too close for comfort wasn’t good. Falling back sharply toward the side, she whipped too quickly, as if she’d been hit.
I caught her, holding my breath as shock claimed me. I wasn’t frozen, numbed by the violence, but I was stunned that she’d actually done that.
She disobeyed my order to stay down and safe while I stood over her and protected her. No. This stubborn woman spotted a shooter from the side, one I hadn’t noticed, and she’d taken it upon herself to intercept the bullet meant for me.
“Katerina!” I hauled her close to me as she cringed and crouched forward, one arm over her stomach and the other lying over it. Blood spilled from her upper arm as she lifted her hand to cover the open wound.
What the fuck!
Goddammit!
Numerous other reactions filed through my mind, but I didn’t linger with the surprise of her taking a bullet intended for me. If I hadn’t witnessed it myself with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have ever believed she’d be shot protecting me during another fucking ambush.
“You—” I gritted my teeth, holding her against me as I turned one last time to fire at the remaining men. With anger lacing my blood and giving me more motivation to be as lethal as possible, I aimed and fired until no man stood living.
It wasn’t wise. I could’ve kept one breathing to question them and get answers. But the fury at seeing Katerina wounded… Ineeded them all dead as quickly as possible. Head shots ended them all.
I didn’t hesitate. Without waiting to see that they’d all fallen to the pavement, I spun and picked up Katerina as she closed her eyes and winced. Her fingers were covered in crimson as she covered the injury, but she leaned into me, using muscle memory as I hoisted her into my arms.
“I can’t believe you fucking…” I gritted my teeth and growled out my frustration as I carried her from our hiding spot where we’d been cornered. Not even pausing to look at the dead men, I doubled back toward another metal stairwell that was accessible and entered the Ivanov-owned building.
With every step I took, holding Katerina in my arms despite the bulk of her backpack strapped to her, my rage increased. I became more and more incensed that she’d dare to do something like that. That she’d put herself at risk like that forme.
“I can’t believe you?—”
“Shut up,” she argued curtly, but weakly.
I didn’t. Reaching the door inside the empty building, I kicked it and entered a small office space. A couch collected dust along one wall, and that was where I sat with her, nudging her to show me her arm. “I can’t believe you fucking took a shot for me.”
“Well, I did,” she huffed sassily.
“Why the fuck would you put yourself at risk like that?” I demanded as I tore my shirt off. Pulling apart the ripped part of her sleeve, I inspected the gash on her arm. It wasn’t a through-and-through. Only a grazing—fortunately. But it was still her blood that spilled for me. It was a wound she’d acquired because she hadn’t wanted me hurt.
“You can’t be reckless like this,” I snarled, hating this terror that gripped me at the idea that she could’ve been hurt morethan this. She mattered this much. She was too important to me to bear the idea of her being hurt at all, and especially because of me.
“Do you hear me?” I snapped as I pressed my shirt to her cut. “You can’t fucking scare me like that. Fuck!” I gritted my teeth as I jerked my head up to face her. Staring into her eyes, I tried to infuse how unforgivable this was. “Do you understand me? I can’t let you risk yourself and be hurt. That was fucking stupid, Katerina. Don’t you know better?”
Narrowing her eyes and keeping her brow furrowed, she used her other arm to lift her hand and grip the back of my neck. “I will risk whatever I want for you, Nik. It’s not the first time, and it’s not the last. So get over yourself and fucking accept it.”
She crashed her lips against mine, robbing me of the chance to have the last word. Bickering with her was pointless, anyway. Because she was alive. It was just a scrape. And we were together.
Rage thrummed through me, and because I had all that adrenaline that hadn’t stopped yet, my heart was racing, too revved up with the fear of losing her. I was prompted to fight or fuck her, and with her mouth so needy against mine, I could tell I wasn’t alone.
She felt exactly the same, greedy to feel me and know that we were alive and together despite the danger on our heels. Nothing could be normal about this. It had to be a sick perversion to be turned on by this push to bicker and clash like this. But what was normal, anyway? Nothing about being in the violent life of the Mafia was “normal” in any way.
