Page 60 of The Tsar's Obsession
I looked around frantically, but there was no one outside, and in a second, it dawned on me that someone was shooting bullets at the windshield! My brain was working a mile a minute to piece together my circumstances, and it finally registered that we were in an armored car. This gave me no peace of mind because right then I spotted two men rush out of the gate and begin their trot towards me.
This escalated into uncharted territory within a second. Not having the chance to think it through, I only knew that I had to get out of there before they got to me. Working on pure instinct, I swung the door open and jumped onto the sidewalk, keeping as low as possible.
Ducking, I scampered toward the edge of the marina and dived right in. The water was warm against my skin, but my adrenaline was sending my brain into overdrive. I swam toward a little motorboat and stilled as quickly as I could, hiding myself from view.
The sound of a bullet ricochetted in my ears and I clasped my hand to my mouth, willing myself not to make a sound. They were at the car.
Good God, what the fuck!
Stressful situations were a part of my job, but not like this! Negotiating with a tantruming client was peanuts in comparison to the threat of a bullet to the brain. I stayed a minute longer, listening to the men who spoke Spanish.
One minute. Two. The voices trailed off, but I didn’t dare move.
Eyeing the marina, I suddenly had the brilliant idea to find a boat—any damn boat that had an ignition key in it. Someone was bound to leave one in; it always happened. I’d spent countless hours on my dad’s boat before even having my driver’s license. This was the only way out.
My mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert from the nerves, and I swam from one boat to another, gliding on the water and attempting to minimize splashing. Male voices ran out near the dock, and I froze, praying to any God available that whoever it was didn’t see me.
Once again, I restarted my search, and right when I was about to panic at my failed plan, I spotted an ignition key dangling from a steering wheel of a small motorboat.Fucking bingo!
With utmost stealth, I climbed over the edge and collapsed on the floor, gasping for air, my blood pumping in my temples.
I didn’t want to be here! I just wanted to be back with Kirill, in his arms. I didn’t want to participate in any of this!
Cotton clouds floated overhead, and the weather was warm and relaxing while I was quite literally fighting for my life. I breathed. In and out. In and out. One minute. Two. I remained on the floor of the boat, waiting out the silence. I poked my head out to assess my next move. I had no plan, zero, zilch. I was just grateful I had made it this far.
But as if drawn to the edge of the fence, my eyes caught sight of a man. He was crouching close to the ground, his arm holding his stomach. He had wavy brown hair. He was wearing a white linen shirt. The shirt had a large red stain.
Kirill.
Utter shock overtook all of me. He was hurt.
Just then, Yuri jumped down right beside him and spotted me within a few seconds, frantically waving at me to pull up. Ripping my eyes away from the scene, I fumbled with the ignition key and pulled the boat out. Slowly, steady. I could do this.
In half a minute, I was already at the shore, watching in pure disbelief, how Yuri hauled all of Kirill’s six-foot-five frame into the boat, jumping in right after him.
I wanted to climb to him. I wanted to see what happened, to help him, to stop the blood, but instead, I was frozen, watching my man wince in pain.
“Go, Mia!”
Yuri’s voice woke me from the trance, and I revved the engine, speeding out of the marina right as a bullet landed in the windshield.
Rough open waters rocked us, the wild wind howling in my ears, droning out the sound of my pumping blood. "What the fuck, Yuri?! You told me to wait for you!" My loud yells traveled behind me while I glanced at Yuri, who sported a small smile.
I felt some sort of camaraderie with him, and the events of the past few minutes had put me in an intense adrenaline rush. I was a brand-new person! Not only did I steal a boat, but I also escaped bullets, got Kirill and Yuri out of there, came up with an escape plan, and was driving a boat through rough waters I’d never been in before!
But that stain on Kirill’s shirt was growing, and I focused on breathing in and out, bringing the boat to a dangerous speed to avoid getting sucked into a wave.
With Yuri’s directions, a familiar villa came into view, and I pulled up as close to shore as I could. I whipped around to see Kirill prostrate on the floor of the little boat. His teeth clenched, he clutched at his side in overt pain.
This wasn’t a scratch—he washurt.Real, red blood seeped through his fingers.
After our week of bliss, I relaxed. I’d forgotten who he really was, but reality rudely smacked me in the face. Before I could kill the engine, Yuri was already helping Kirill out, a barrage of Russian swear words flying from both their mouths while Yuri chuckled.
In some sort of alternate reality, I watched Kirill struggle to stand and walk, with both Yuri and I helping him. Oh fuck, this wasn’t a fucking movie, and the sight of his blood was draining mine away from my extremities.
“Mia…” Kirill breathed. “Are you hurt?” His teeth chattered and his eyes shut, groaning in pain with every step.
And with every step, my legs turned into lead. I wasscared.I held onto Kirill’s strong body while he limped, his crimson blood staining my dress and hands.
