Page 23 of Cruel Russian Monster
The tires squealed slightly when I turned too hard. I cursed under my breath, hoping the sound wouldn’t draw attention. Jaroslav groaned behind me, head lolling to the side. I glanced in the rearview mirror. His eyes were fluttering, barely staying open.
“Don’t you dare die on me,” I muttered.
I glanced in the side mirror, then the rearview mirror.
No one was following us, at least not yet.
As soon as the tires hit the road, I glanced at the man clutching his side in the back seat, struggling to remain conscious.
My heart lurched. I stepped on the gas and sped toward Jaroslav’s house, praying he’d still be alive when we got there.
Chapter 7 - Jaroslav
I struggled to sit up in the back seat, gun loose in one hand, the other lightly pressed against the wound in my side.
I bit back a groan. I needed to stay conscious. If anyone was following us, I had to be ready. I had to protect Vera.
When I saw those assholes surrounding her in the parking lot, I didn’t think things through. I jumped out and put a bullet straight through the first bastard’s skull for laying his filthy hand on her.
I couldn’t help but smirk when she gouged the eyes of the man behind her, it gave me just enough time to take out the other two. But one of them got off a lucky shot that caught me in the side. Bastard.
After I killed the last one, the one who tackled her to the ground, I wanted to shoot him again when I saw the bruises already forming on her neck.
Inhaling deeply, I winced as I attempted to sit up straighter.
I glanced at the rearview mirror to check if we were being followed, when my eyes locked with Vera’s. She looked worried, and I hated that.
The car jolted. Another wave of pain tore through me as I groaned.
“Dammit,” she mumbled, panicked, before she spun around quickly and whispered, “Sorry,” before turning back to focus on the road.
If I wanted to stay awake, I'd need to stop this damn wound from bleeding. If I couldn't do that and we ran into trouble and anything happened to Vera, I'd never forgive myself.
Vera tried to run away, remember? If anything happened to her, it would be her own damn fault.
I tried to focus on steadying my breathing as my heart thundered in my chest. By slowing my heart rate it helped to slow down the blood seeping from my side.
I grimaced as Vera made a hard right.
Was the bullet still lodged in my side, or had it gone clean through?
I needed to know what I was up against.
Slowly, I lifted my shirt out of my pants. The fabric stuck to my skin, damp with blood and sweat. I hissed through my teeth as I peeled it away, exposing the angry, raw hole torn into the flesh just above my hip.
With my jaw clenched, I reached around to my back and felt for an exit wound. My fingers found the torn, bloodied skin of another hole. This time smaller.
It went straight through.
Pain spiked, flashing white behind my eyes. But I felt relieved. I didn't need to go for surgery. I just needed to stop the bleeding.
I tried to apply more pressure to the wound, but my hand was shaking. I was too weak to stop the blood from trickling between my fingers.
I gritted my teeth as dark circles crept into my line of vision. I felt my head drop to my shoulder. And no amount of willpower forced it back up.
No matter how hard I tried to focus…tried to keep my hand on the gun…tried to stay conscious…my body had other plans.
My eyes closed, and everything went dark.
