Page 68 of The Russian's Forced Bride
Rafael pulled out another Glock from the pockets of his tactical jacket and shot at Joaquin’s arm, but the monster barely flinched and instead skillfully kicked the gun out of Rafael’s hands, and then proceeded to punch Rafael, but Rafael countered by kneeing Joaquin in his crotch.
While Joaquin tried to recover, Rafael grabbed the hem of his shirt and forcefully pushed him to the shelves at the edge of the room, and Joaquin’s head rammed against them with a resoundingcrack.
One punch.
Two punches followed.
And then my eyes widened when Joaquin weakly, yet swiftly, gripped his knife, digging it into Rafael’s knees, a booming laugh leaving his mouth as Rafael staggered back.
“You fucking psychopath,” Joaquin snarled at Rafael, wiping the blood off his mouth.
Joaquin’s eyes then made contact with mine, and he grinned, showing off his bloodied teeth, while Rafael tried to regain his composure.
My heart leapt into my throat. They were both bloodied, and though Joaquin seemed to be the one in worse shape, he still looked more energized and ready to take on Rafael, who cussed loudly in Russian, running his tongue over his busted lip.
I knew I had to do something—a way to help or call for backup instead of just watching them beat themselves up until one of them died.
And so, while Joaquin tried lunging at me, Rafael grabbed him by the cloth, all the while bleeding through the open wound on his leg.
My hands shook in fear as I looked around the room, which was filled with their grunts and huffs. Apart from the chair I was still on, the only other weapons were the spiked bat beside me and Rafael’s gun.
I had only ever shot a gun once in my life during a hunting session. I remember being so bad at it that Father made sure never to let me wield one again. I considered using the spiked bat, but both of them were too swift with their attacks, making it hard to get between them.
I wondered why no one else was coming into the room. The gunshots from outside had receded now, and I was certain someone out there survived.
No. No one could do this except me.
So, even though my whole body ached and my face was swollen with blood matted to my hair, I reached over to the gun on the ground.
Joaquin killed my parents. And just like Rafael had said to Mateo, I had made my own promise that Joaquin would die. I wasn’t going to let that slide.
Once the cold metallic weapon sat in my hands, I stood from the chair, which scraped against the ground, pointing the gun at Joaquin. But it was hard to focus, as they kept shifting positions, trading blows.
I bit my already busted lip, shutting one eye as I tried to concentrate. My heart pounded hard against my chest with fear—and an odd sensation of excitement at the thought of inflicting pain on the man who had taken too much from me.
My hands shook, but I drew in a deep breath.
Aim and fire.
I chanted the words in my head and then pulled the trigger, aimed right at Joaquin’s leg, while they were still very distracted.
Bang!
The bullet dug into his tibia, and he yelled a “Fuck!” The knife in his hands fell onto the ground with a resoundingclang.
I smirked, limping toward both of them so I could get a closer range. And while he struggled to compose himself, Rafaelgrabbed his neck with both hands, knocking Joaquin against the concrete wall—and right beside where Mateo’s dead body lay.
Joaquin struggled to breathe, the veins in his eyes popping as his hands clawed out for help and to grab something he could use against Rafael. But I didn’t give him the opportunity, because I fired another shot at his palm—satisfaction filling me when he couldn’t even express the pain he was feeling by screaming.
I wanted to be the one to end his life, but Rafael already seemed too engrossed in doing that as Joaquin’s face started to turn purplish.
“I told you it would be slow and painful,” I said, cutting through his strained breaths.
A tear fell from Joaquin’s eye just before the popping of his neck bones filtered through, and his neck fell limply to his side right as Rafael let go.
Joaquin’s body dropped to the ground with athud, right beside Mateo’s already pale corpse, and my breath hitched. I couldn’t believe it was finally all over.
Meanwhile, Rafael’s rapid breathing filled the silence between us before his face turned to mine—bruised all over, his eyes dark with a thirst for blood. He walked over to me and pulled me against his chest. The sound of his pounding heart met my ears as I wrapped my arms around him.
