Page 166 of House of Payne
Together, the four of us limp back down the stairs with our guns drawn. We make it outside unscathed, and I spot the silver sedan in the distance. Katia shoves Carlisle away and limps forward, taking out a few more people on her way. Once we reach the car, I help London get into the back and climb in next to her. Carlisle pushes Katia into the passenger seat and hits the gas.
It takes a long minute for the sedan to start, but soon enough, we’re speeding back toward the Payne estate. Katia crawls between the seats and settles in the back with us, her hand shaking as she rummages through the duffel bags.
My hand darts out, and I shake my head. “Enough. You’re done for the night.”
“We’re not safe yet,” Katia says without looking at me. She mutters something, and I draw her closer. “I need to get us back.”
“Back the fuck off, Katia. That’s an order.”
She glances up sharply, and our eyes meet.
I don’t break our gaze, and neither does she.
We hit a speedbump, and when London clears her throat, I look away. Katia leans against the door and peers at the bloodstain on her side. Then, she rips off a piece of fabric and ties it around her waist. I inch toward London and let my hands sweep over her, making sure she’s unhurt.
Once my hands close around her face, a sob falls from her lips, and she sags against me.
I don’t hug her, but I don’t move away, either.
Eventually, I drape an arm over her shoulders and use a rag to wipe her face.
I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t know if I can look at her just yet.
I’m the reason she’s in this mess, and my coming to save her doesn’t change that.
It will always be there between us.
No one follows us as the wrought-iron gates to the Payne estate shudder and allow us through. Mathew is waiting at the foot of the stairs when we pull up. He starts yelling at me, but I ignore him and nod to Carlisle, who whisks London away. Then, I turn to Katia, move her arm back around my shoulders, and brush past my fuming brother.
Undeterred, Mathew follows us up the stairs, cursing us the entire time. Staggering into the nearest room, Katia and I stumble into the guest bathroom. I grope blindly for the light switch, and she winces as bright, fluorescent lights flood the room. I place her on the edge of the bathtub and throw open the medicine cabinet.
I take out the first-aid kit, and Katia shoots me an amused look. “I can have someone take care of this.”
I kneel in front of her and pry open the box. “Shut the fuck up and let me take a look.”
I examine the wound and am relieved to see the bullet has gone clean through. Then, I rummage through the kit until I find alcohol and disinfectant. Katia hisses but doesn’t push me away for the half hour it takes me to close the wound. I peel off my jacket when I’m done and hand it to her, and she doesn’t protest.
“You should be with London.”
“I thought you didn’t approve.” I run my hands under the faucet and avoid looking at her. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.”
Katia and I have only ever seen each other in one light.
Tending to her wounds isn’t something either of us is used to.
Then again, she’s never had to take a bullet for me.
“I don’t approve.” Katia stands up, and I feel her behind me. “But I also know I’ve never seen you like this. She could be good for you.”
I finish washing my hands and pat them dry. “Did you get shot in thehead, too?”
Katia makes an amused sound and shakes her head. “No, but I’ve never seen you that driven…”
I turn to face her. “It doesn’t mean a fucking thing. You know that better than anyone.”
“You raced to save her.”
“I don’t like being threatened.”
