My breathing shortens as I comply.
He motions at both Vlad and Julian. “Ye too, unless ye’re in the mood for her funeral.”
Vlad curses under his breath as he and Julian slowly lower their guns to the ground.
Think, Rai. What would Kyle do in this situation?
I slowly close my eyes, contemplating the best option to get rid of Rolan. It would’ve been easier if it was only me. Now, I have the baby to worry about, so I can’t make any rash decisions.
“Stupid little bitch thinks she’s all that,” Rolan hisses at my ear. “Did ye really believe that a wee thing like ye can kill me?”
I open my eyes slowly, and that’s when I see him. At first, I think it’s a trick of my imagination because of how much I’ve been thinking about him all day, but when Julian takes a bit more time to stand up after placing his weapon on the ground, I catch a glimpse of Kyle behind him.
He’s soaked in blood, his face, his shirt, and even his hair. Oh, God—has he been shot?
Rolan must notice him too because he says, “Ye—”
He’s interrupted as a loud shot rings through the air and his weight disappears from my back. I stare behind me to find him lying on his back with a bloody hole in his forehead. His tongue sticks out and his eyes stare at nowhere.
Strong hands grab me by the shoulders and I stare up at Kyle, incredulous.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that shot when he was so close to you.” He massages my ear, and that’s when I realize it’s buzzing. “But he saw me and was ready to shoot you so…”
He trails off when I palm his cheeks, wiping the blood with my thumb. “Are you shot? Wounded? Vlad, call Dr. Putin and have Ruslan pick him up—”
Kyle’s hand slides from my shoulder to my face. “The blood is not mine. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” I touch him up the sides and down his chest, feeling him. “Are you not injured anywhere?”
“I’m good as new. Told you bullets can’t kill me.” He grins, motioning behind him at a red-bearded man who seems to be around the same age as Julian. “Ask Flame or Godfather.”
“I told you not to joke about that!” I hit him across the chest, forcing him to release me. “You’re not bulletproof, you idiot. And what’s with the whole suicide mission? Were you really going to take Rolan on your own?”
“I would’ve sniped him down just fine if not for that fucking kid. I’m going to kill him.”
“So now you’re blaming it on a kid?”
“Peter was the one who handed me over.”
“That good-for-nothing?”
“He’s not good for nothing, after all. He was the one who pushed you down the stairs, and I’m going to find him and push him into a grave.”
Oh. So Peter was the perpetrator. I knew his voice sounded familiar back then. I shake my head, not wanting to focus on that.
“Don’t change the subject,” I scold. “This is about how you went on this mission without telling anyone.”
“It’s what I do.”
“I can’t believe you. I really can’t believe you. You will never change, will you? You’ll just continue to do whatever you please and to hell with what everyone else thinks or feels.” My voice breaks at the end and I hate the vulnerability in it.
God damn him.
“Hey, Princess…” He tries to catch me by the arm, but I pull away and stride to the exit.
“Let’s go home, Vlad.”
The latter glares at Kyle as if he wants to kill him on my behalf, then follows after me.
“You’re leaving?” Vlad asks once it’s just the two of us.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I breathe harshly, then whisper, “Is he following?”
“No.”
“Really?” I snap.
Vlad grunts. “If you wanted him to follow you, then maybe you shouldn’t have, I don’t know, rejected him?”
“Screw him.”
If he doesn’t know how to take a hint, I’m not going to do his job for him.
But he will eventually follow.
Right?
32
Kyle
“Fuck!”
I kick Rolan’s lifeless body. Even the arsehole’s death doesn’t feel as victorious as I thought it would.
Rai disappeared down the hall with that fucker Vladimir. He’ll have even more of an opening to be beside her now that I’m not there, which has been his purpose all along.
Motherfucker.
“She has you by the balls. I’m disappointed.” Flame leans against the doorframe and places a cigarette in his mouth, but instead of lighting it, he keeps flipping his lighter on and off. His Beware of Fire Hazard tattoo peeks out from underneath his sleeve with the movement.
“Shut the fuck up, Flame. He almost clipped my nails from my sniper hand, Godfather!”
“It didn’t happen.” Flame pauses flipping his lighter.
I narrow my eyes. “You wanted to do it.”
“But I didn’t. And stop moaning to Ghost like a little kid.”