Page 110 of Ruthless Savior
"Then try to come get me," Leila spits back, and I've never been more proud or more terrified in my life.
The man laughs and reaches for her. She swings the object in her hand with vicious accuracy, catching him across the temple. He staggers back, cursing in Italian, while his partner raises his weapon.
I don't think. I just act.
My first shot takes the armed man in the chest, dropping him instantly. The second man spins toward me, going for his own gun, but Leila doesn't give him the chance. She launches herself at him furiously, clawing at his face while he tries to throw her off.
They go down together in a tangle of limbs, and I can't get a clear shot without risking hitting her. I'm moving toward them when the third man I didn't see steps out from behind a bookshelf, his weapon trained on me.
"Drop it, O'Malley."
I freeze, weighing my options. On the floor, Leila and her attacker are still struggling, but he's bigger and stronger, trained for this kind of combat. She's fighting with everything she has, but it's not going to be enough.
"I said drop it." The barrel doesn't waver.
I let the pistol I’m carrying fall from my fingers, raising my hands slowly. "Let her go. Your quarrel is with me."
"Our quarrel is with anyone who stands between Don De Luca and what belongs to him."
The man on the floor finally manages to pin Leila's arms, blood streaming from the scratches she left on his face. But as he hauls her to her feet, I see something that stops my heart.
Blood. On her thin tank top, spreading across her ribs. Too much blood.
"You're hurt.” I can hear the raw panic in my own voice, carrying across the space between us. Leila looks at me, fear in her eyes as she sees I’m being held at gunpoint.
"I'm fine," she gasps, but she's not. I can see the way she's favoring her left side, the paleness of her skin in the moonlight streaming through the windows.
"She's bleeding," I tell the man with the gun trained on me. "She needs medical attention."
"She'll get it when we deliver her to the don." He grins. “It can’t be that bad. The bitch is still barking.”
I hear more gunfire from downstairs, cursing in Italian and Gaelic. The man glances toward the door. "Time to go," he snaps to his companion. “We take them both. Rocco wants them both alive. We’ll find a way out while the rest are kept busy.”
"You're not taking her anywhere." I take a step forward, and he swings the gun toward me.
"Another step, and I put a bullet in your head. I’ll tell De Luca it wasn’t me. Someone else shot you. He can take it out on the skin of someone else."
"Then do it." I take another step. "But you're not leaving with my wife."
The standoff stretches for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a few seconds. And then Leila makes the decision for all of us.
She drives her elbow backward into her captor's solar plexus with enough force to double him over, then throws herself sideways toward a heavy oak table. The gunman's attention splits for just an instant—enough for me to dive for my dropped weapon.
Gunshots explode through the library, glass shattering and paper flying, splinters of wood spraying across the room. I roll behind an overturned chair and come up firing, but I'm shooting blind, trying to keep them occupied while Leila gets to cover.
When the shooting stops, the silence is deafening. I can hear my own heartbeat, my ragged breathing, but nothing else. No movement, no voices.
"Leila?" I call softly.
There’s no answer. I realize there’s silence from downstairs now, too. The shooting has stopped.
Terror like I've never known floods through me as I rise from cover, sweeping the room with my gun raised. Both intruders aredown—one motionless, the other groaning softly as blood pools beneath him. But Leila…
I find her behind the overturned table, curled on her side, one hand pressed to her ribs where the bloodstain has spread wider. Her eyes are open but glazed with pain and shock.
"Hey," I whisper, dropping to my knees beside her. "Hey, look at me."
Her eyes focus on my face with visible effort. "Are they gone?" I hear the sound of my men coming up the stairs, and I hope with everything in me that Colin managed to keep one alive for me to question.
