Page 22 of In Her Blood
“Half a mile ‘til we’re back on a main road,” Otto said as the car pivoted so sharply her stomach rolled with it. “We won’t make it. I want you to get on the floor and make yourself small.”
His words slammed through her, her barely stabilized breathing spiraling back out of control. “What? No, no way—”
“Lina, for once, fuckin’ listen to me.” He pulled a hand from the wheel, shifted in his seat, and tugged his own gun from his waistband. “Your goal issurvival, not machismo. So do whatever it takes. As soon as this car stops, as soon as the bullets stop, you bail out the nearest opening and you run until you feel safe again. And for the love of fucking god, do not take your phone.”
She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of his stupid plan, but shattering glass exploded into the cab of the car before she made a sound. She jumped in place, her head whipping to the side, and stared in shock at what had become of the rear window. Their windows were supposed to be shatterproof, she was pretty sure. “Bozhe moy…”
Otto slammed the breaks and twisted the wheel, spinning them entirely sideways with himself between the Morozov SUV and her.
More bullets pelted the side of the car before it even came to a stop. She realized jarringly that she could tell from the soundsof their impact that not all of them were the armor-piercing type—but some definitely were. Meaning there were at least two shooters.
Meaning Otto had just put himself between her and armor-piercing bullets.
There had to be something—My phone.She’d left it in the backseat, of course, along with everything else in her purse.
“I can’t buy you long,” Otto shouted over the cacophony of their car being shot up. “Go!”
He meant, of course, for her to duck out the door while it was still operational and bolt behind a nearby building. As if she were a coward. But she was no coward, and she wasn’t about to flee and abandon the only person she had left.
Evelina threw herself between the seats again, fingers scrambling for the straps of her purse. Her heart raced faster and louder than the barrage of bullets, nearly deafening her. It wasn’t even that he was who she trusted most. Otto was her life. If he fell here, she didn’t know what she’d do. Her throat swelled, and she wasn’t sure if she gasped from the pain of the thought or the sudden, burning sting of a bullet grazing her outstretched arm. Nor did it matter as her fingers finally curled around one of her purse straps. She gave a hefty tug, practically throwing it across the car in her haste to pull it forward. Her sunglasses clacked pathetically on the dashboard, falling from the purse before she could adjust her hold.
She had no idea when Otto had started shooting back, only that she became aware he was as she let herself sink low in her seat.
“Lina!” He shouted at her over his shoulder.
Another bullet pinged against the metal of the car, lodging into the interior frame on the passenger side.
Evelina slid lower, wedging herself into the small space as she dug out her phone. “I’m not abandoning you!” she shouted back. “And if I want to be taken seriously as pakhan, I can’t act like a scared little girl, either.” She needed to do what she believed her father might have done, at least more or less, if he had been caught and pinned as she had.
Her father would have called for his army.
So, she put her phone to her ear and dared hold her breath. Her eyes caught on a blooming spot of red on Otto’s arm, and the wound on her own throbbed.
Artem answered quickly. “Miss Nikolaev?” He barely finished the greeting before the unmistakable, raucous noise of her environment surely explained the problem for her. “I’m on my way. Do you know how many there are?”
“Morozov SUV,” she said, wincing as the back passenger window exploded in a shatter of glass. “Armor-piercing bullets, at least two shooters.”
Artem snapped something she only half-heard over her own crushingly loud surroundings and still-racing heart, something she didn’t think was aimed at her, then said, “Fight back as best you can. I’m tracking you now. Leave your phone on.”
“Always the plan. But fucking hurry.” She dropped her phone into her purse, shoved it again to her shoulder for lack of anywhere better to keep it, and forced herself to look past the increased destruction.
The car was shot to hell and getting worse. She thought she spied smoke curling up from the hood. Otto was changingclips in his gun, blood dripping off his arm and rolling down his cheek. Her own pain seemed insignificant, really, compared to everything else.
Evelina glanced down at the 9mm she’d pulled from the glove box. She was a decent shot—neither anything special nor humiliatingly bad—and she was armed. She in fact had two guns on her, but the little one in her purse was basically useless in this type of situation. She needed to get up close to make that thing count. It was a self-defense type of gun. Still, she could do something with the 9mm.
Something more than crouching beneath the dashboard and hoping.
Evelina looked at Otto, whose larger frame effectively obscured his own side window, and scowled. He’d never agree to letting her join him in a shoot-out. Her gaze flicked to the side again, and a stupid thought whispered to her.
The driver’s side back window had also been shot out. Glass covered most of the back. But the gunfire itself had paused, just like Otto had predicted.
“Shit,” Otto muttered. “They’re tryin’ to close in.”
Even better.Evelina made her choice, setting everything on the passenger seat in order to shrug off her coat before scooping up her gun and propelling herself again between the seats. She knew what angle she needed to best fit this time, so she made it quickly.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Otto hissed.
“Fighting back,” she replied in as quiet a tone as she dared. She dropped her coat onto the floor, for what protection it would offer, and lowered to her knees. At first, the glass particlesshifted and crunched almost like bubble wrap beneath her settling weight. “You aim right, I’ll aim left. We’ll swing toward the middle as necessary.”
