Monte walked over to hand us parachutes, but we both shook our heads. They would only slow us down enough to be shot. We need to drop down quick and hard.
“Jinx, take us as low as possible,” I said.
Our stomachs dipped as we felt the helicopter drop. Somehow, knowing before Jinx even had to speak, Liam opened the door and in the darkness of the night, we could both see the yacht waiting below. He looked back at me, but I ignored him and pushed off the wall to jump. The moment the cold breeze hit my skin, I braced myself for the impact of the deck. When my body landed, I rolled as bullets came flying my way.
Grabbing onto my gun, I turned and shot one right between his eyes just as Liam dropped onto the shoulders of another. There were screams and curses in Russian as Liam dove right beside me.
“Come here often?” he said, chuckling as adrenaline clearly pumped through his veins. I supposed he was no longer seeing me as a china doll in that moment, but as another person on his side. Finally, the dipshit.
“Not really.” I tried not to smirk back as more Russians came shooting at us. “The hospitality here is fucking shit.”
“You should write a strongly worded letter.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned and shot a man on the top deck in the kneecap. “This is more eco-friendly. Save the trees, and all that shit.”
He grinned and then shot the man now screaming in pain in the head. “I was never good at recycling.”
Two more men came forward, one right behind Liam, and another behind me. We both raised our hands as they yell at us.
“Kto vy? Vy lokhi!”9 they shouted at us.
Liam smiled at me—he truly smiled for once—obviously enjoying this. “Ya, Liam Kallahan. Eto moy zhenikh, vy tozhe mertv.”10
Just as the man finished, bullets went into the side of their heads, courtesy of Antonio and Neal, before the helicopter spun out of view once again. A second later, Liam’s phone rang and he placed it on speaker.
“They are four miles away and will be there shortly,” Declan said. Liam said nothing before hanging up as I reached down to grab their guns.
“Yarygin or Stechkin Pistol?” I asked him, causing him to frown.
“The Russians can’t make guns for shit,” he said in disgust, and he had a point.
Smiling, we began to throw the few bodies overboard as we waited for our friends. It only took a second, and by that time, we had thrown the overweight, drunken Russians off.
The boat was silent except for another crew as they made their ways back on deck. They stumbled and laughed liked fools.
“Vse chertovski narkotiki ushli. Chert by pobral etikh vlagalishcha v ad. Valero sobirayetsya ubit’ nas.”11
One of the men asked where their brothers where Liam was already on his feet.
“Dead.” Liam said as he shot one right in the nose and I shot the other in the eye. He screamed in pain as I walked over, patting him down for the mini-equipment. Once I had it, I shot him once more for the heck of it.
“I’ll call the guys,” I said, handing it to Liam, but once I turned around, I found myself looking down the barrel of a gun. It was the man whom Liam landed on, and he had his gun pointed right at me. Liam pulled me out of the way and shot the fucker in the face, but not before taking one in the arm.
“Fuck it all to hell,” he said, pulling back his wounded limb.
He must have left his guardian angel at home.
“Jinx, head in, we’ll meet you onshore. We’re fine . . . for the most part,” I said before hanging up and grabbing his arm.
He pulled away. “I’m fine, just wish I didn’t kill the fucker so I could torture him.”
“You have a bullet in your arm.” I glared at him. “A Russian bullet, which you, yourself said was shit. I am going to take it out.”
“I said I was fucking fine, Melody!”
Angry, I holstered my weapon before I shot him in the other arm, and grabbed on to his wounded arm again, causing him to hiss out in pain.
“You are not fine.” I pressed down harder. “Now stop bitching and let me fix it, you asshole.”
I didn’t allow him to speak before pulling him inside the cabin and pushing him onto the nearest bed. They must have been ready to eat because alcohol and an array of meat, bread, and apples awaited them. Getting a napkin and a knife, I poured the alcohol over it and his wound before giving him the rest to drink. Hopefully, the liquor would keep him quiet.
He smirked at me before taking the bottle to his lips. “I think I like you as a nurse.”
Glaring at him, I dug the knife into his bullet wound. “You really shouldn’t say stupid things to a woman with weapons.”
He hissed and roared in pain like a fucking baby until I got the bullet out and used the napkin as a bandage.
“Drink and shut up, I’ll be right back,” I said to him before going back on deck.
I made sure to drag and throw the bodies off the boat before setting course back to the mainland. I also called Monte to let him and Liam’s brothers know what happened. It took me about an hour and a half. By the time I went back to Liam, he was frozen on the bed, listening to the audio from the plane he had destroyed.
All either of us could hear were screams, crying, and prayers. They brought back memories I would rather forget. Walking over, I pushed stop and he, was pulled out of his trance.
“I thought you were going to set the boat on autopilot,” he said, proving just how out of it he was.
Grabbing another napkin, I took the old blood-soaked one off and redid the bandage.
“Do not take a bullet for me again.”
He snorted before pulling away. “No good deed goes unpunished. The correct words you are looking for are ‘thank you.’ ”
I pulled tighter, and he winced, the baby. “Thank you, but don’t do it again. The last thing I need is for any of my men to think I can’t handle myself.”
“You are so fucking ridiculous. Why must you always try to prove that you’re a cold-hearted bitch?”
“Because a cold-hearted bitch is what I need to be,” I snapped back, rising in front of him. “You can fuck up as many times you want, but at the end of the day, no one will doubt you. I, on the other hand, make one mistake and it’s over. Some cocky asshole like you will come over and claim I’m too soft, or that I don’t have the balls. I’ve worked too hard to backtrack now.”
He said nothing. He knew I was right. I didn’t have time to waste, proving and reproving who I was.
“And in a way, they would be right, because I should have blown that plane up myself,” I confessed, grabbing the wine from the table and leaning against it. “If I had, I would get the credit—”
“You want credit?” He eyed me up and down, his green eyes picking up only the dimmest light of the cabin we now shared. “You want credit for the mass murder I committed.”
“Don’t say it like that. We are not serial killers. We do not kill for the fun of it or chaos. It is just business. Every last person we kill is for family. If we do not kill them, they kill us. It is the way of the world. It is self-defense. It is survival. If it were your life for theirs, they would kill you in a second to save themselves or their family. Everyone is ruthless. They just don’t know it. You do. I do. And that is why we are on top and will remain so.”