Page 159 of Stolen Empire
It's like it comes from inside my core where nerves are firing too rapidly to make sense.
The gun clatters to the floor as more shots erupt and I start sobbing.
My hands cover my ears instinctively as I rock, trying to comfort myself and block it out but the trauma is having its effect anyway.
The assault feels endless.
Bullets tear through the walls, shredding furniture and sending debris flying.
I keep my head down, my hands over my ears, trying to block out the noise.
But I can't block out the fear.
The knowledge that at any moment, one of those bullets could find me.
Then, suddenly, the gunfire slows.
I hear Dimitri shouting orders, and his men surge forward, pushing toward the broken door.
Then I hear the sound of boots on the porch.
More shots.
Then silence.
I lift my head cautiously, peering around the edge of the bookshelf.
Dimitri is standing near the door, gun still raised, his chest heaving.
Two of his men are beside him, both alive, both breathing hard.
From where I am, I can see bodies on the ground outside, and I'm grateful the men block most of that sight from me.
Dimitri turns, his eyes finding me immediately.
"Are you hurt?"
I shake my head, my voice caught in my throat.
But just because I don’t have a bullet in my flesh doesn't mean I'm okay.
He crosses the room quickly and pulls me up to my feet but my knees are still stubbornly weak.
His hands are on my face, checking for injuries.
"You're bleeding."
I reach up, feeling the warm trickle on my cheek but I know it's not my blood.
It's horrifying, but I swallow down that emotion to the numb void of my gut.
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
His voice is a feral growl.
"You were supposed to stay behind cover."
