Page 84 of Cruel Russian King
I raised my gun and tore through the three fuckers in quick succession, each with a headshot.
Fucking four more.
She dropped to the ground, stunned, and I ran to her, out in the open. I gently pulled her to her feet, and pressed her against me. I knew we couldn't stay, we had to move, but I couldn’t ignore her shaking, the way she clung to me as tears cascaded down her cheeks.
I brushed her hair from her face and wiped her eyes. After kissing her lightly, I whispered, “You’re safe now, Printsessa.”
Just then two shots exploded behind me. A searing pain tore into my back. Ninel screamed, eyes wide with terror. My chest tightened at the sight of the horror on her face. It was here I realized that nothing in the world mattered more than her.
I spun, fired, and cut the two bastards down.
“Fucking two…” I croaked as I collapsed to the ground.
Chapter 24 - Ninel
“Artyom…” I shrieked, dropping to my knees as blood pooled beneath him far too quickly.
After passing out after the accident, when I came to, my wrists and ankles were bound with rope. I was in a small, dimly lit room. I forced the restraints off, thankful my long sleeves and jeans had taken most of the burning sensation.
I wasn't sure how long I was in there when I heard a key slide into the lock. Quietly, I scrambled to my feet and pressed myself to the side of the door, praying he’d step in far enough for me to slip past. But he stopped in the doorway, turned, and met my eyes with an evil fucking smirk. I swung at him, but he caught my wrist midair, squeezing until pain shot up my arm, then shoved me to the floor and drove his boot into my back. Artyom’s going to lose his shit when he sees the print it left.
The bastard dragged me out by my hair, to where we are now, him and the other goons were trying to force me into the crate. The only ways I was getting into that crate was as a corpse! I knew if they got me into it, I’d never see my family again…never see Artyom again. And what would they have done when they found out I was pregnant?
As I fought against them, three gunshots cracked through the air and they dropped me. Then I was in his arms. The arms of the man the world called a monster, but to me, he was…mine.
I shook his shoulders, desperately, and he groaned. “Artyom…come on, please, open your eyes,” I whimpered.
There was no way I'd be able to drag Artyom to safety. We were sitting ducks here, but there was no way in hell I was leaving him behind.
A noise behind me made my blood run cold. I tore the gun from Artyom’s limp fingers and spun on my knees, ready to put a bullet in whoever came near.
My eyes collided with Marten’s cold blue ones and the tears began again. Yegor and Zakhar rushed past him. I shoved the gun into Yegor’s hands.
“Is he going to be okay?” I whispered as Yegor crouched and turned Artyom over on his stomach to check his wounds.
Marten’s hand closed around my arm, gently pulling me to my feet, holding me protectively in his arms.
“We’ll need a fucking chopper to get him out of here,” Yegor bit out, his voice strained.
Yegor rose to his feet, barked into his phone, and stepped out of the room, while Zahkar tore off his t-shirt and pressed it down on Artyom’s wounds.
Jaroslav and the others jogged up, guns still in hand.
“Ninel, are you hurt?” Lev asked, sparing only a glance at Artyom.
“I’ll be fine,” I said in a voice I didn't recognize, my cheek against Marten's chest. “I’m worried about him.”
“You should come with us,” Jaroslav said, his tone hardened.
I shook my head, stepping out of Marten's grasp, backing closer to Artyom. “I’m not going anywhere. He’s my husband.”
“Ninel, you’re not thinking straight,” Avit insisted. “Let Yegor and Zahkar take care of him. You need to come with us. You were also in the accident. You need to get checked out.”
My hands subconsciously covered my stomach.
“No. I’m not leaving him.”
I swayed on my feet and Marten wrapped his arm around me.
