Page 37 of Wraith
“I’ll remember. Repayment, same deal?”
“I was thinking I could visit you to get to know Ms. Amelia better.” Igor smiled.
“I’m already getting know, Amelia better.” Liam replied.
Her cheeks heated. Amelia knew precisely what he meant. Liam Snyder had just claimed her as his. Unable to hide her smile she turned to look out at the crowd.
“Well, drats.” Igor laughed. “Same deal then”
Liam laughed.
Amelia arched a brow. She wondered what they meant but didn’t ask.
After their goodbyes,Wraith and Amelia were making their way back through the crowded dance floor when a commotion caught his attention. He turned to his left to see men, dressed in black shoving roughly toward them. To his right, the same thing was happening. “Shit.” He muttered reaching back and grabbing Amelia’s hand.
He rammed his way through the crowd, people yelling at him, calling him every vile name in the Russian handbook of profanities. Wraith didn’t care. There was no way he could let these guys get their hands on Amelia. A man tried holding Wraith which only angered him further. He lashed out by pressing the fingers of his free hand together then slamming them into the man’s throat.
Amelia screamed.
His assailant’s eyes widened as he slumped downward. The crowd scattered and the stunned man hit the ground hard.
Then there was gunfire and he instinctively ducked. The people around them panicked and began charging for the doors as more shots rang out. Wraith swore under his breath, pulled Amelia in front of him and shoved her out the side door into the snow.
She tumbled but he merely picked her up, placed her on her feet and lifted the remote over his head and pressed. Two cars down on the left, the alarm on a black Mustang chirped and he arched a brow. Though he didn’t stop to smile at Igor’s audacity, he pulled Amelia toward it and she ran around the passenger side and climbed in.
A couple of Storogenko’s men were out the door and firing at them again, hitting the car, breaking the back taillight. He pulled his glock and returned fire even as he tossed the key in. “Start the car!” he called.
He exchanged a few more shots before he heard the powerful engine roared to life. Feeling backward, he opened the door and tossed himself into the front seat, slammed the door and threw the vehicle in gear just as sirens were heard in the distance. He figured someone had called the cops after the shooting began, added pressure for him.
“You’re bleeding?” Amelia sounded surprised.
Strange, he hadn’t felt the heat of the first tinge of pain until she pointed out the injury. Glancing quickly to his right arm, he noticed there was a long slash just beneath his shoulder.
“You got shot. We have to get you to a doctor.”
“In Russia?” Wraith asked. “No thanks. I’ll take my chances.”
“At least let’s go somewhere I can find a first aid kit. We have to clean the wound before it gets infected.”
He frowned. “Amelia, it’s flesh wound. I’ve been shot before.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
There was the sound of a zipper then of material being ripped. She then caught his arm in her hands and wrapped a piece of her shirt around where he was bleeding. The pain was increasingly worse, but he merely flinched as she knotted the material and kept his eyes on the road.
As he sat beside Amelia, bleeding from a gunshot wound, those old sensation were coming right back. After watching so many die, some of which by his hand, Wraith felt as if his soul was dead. But the brokenness throbbing through him then told him the thrill for military life may be gone but his soul was still alive and kicking.
He eventually stopped and handed Amelia the keys. “Stay in the car,” he said.
“But…”
“No buts, Amelia. I mean it.”
She frowned at him but there wasn’t another way. People were looking for them and where as he might blend in, Amelia in a small Russian town stood out like a sore thumb. Giving her a final look, he peeled himself from the vehicle, ignoring the burning in his arm
The misty air outside further sent the cold clinging to exposed skin. It burned a little more than normal, but he ignored it and picked up his steps across the parking lot and into the store. He wandered around until he found things for his wound but was certain not to buy the hulking items which screamed gunshot. He also gathered some food—sandwiches, nutrition bars, chips, bottles of water and juice.
Though there was a sign advertising coffee, he ignored it.
