Page 156

Story: Climbing Everest

Sucks for me because just like at my apartment a month ago, I don’t notice the figure waiting in the shadow as I close and lock the bedroom door.

You know…the door that only locks from the inside.

As my eyes focus and I realize I’m looking at a human wearing a balaclava, I immediately scream out Kato’s name and turn, grabbing the handle and yanking like one of those dumbasses in the movies.

I would literally be screaming at myself on the screen right now. The door is locked, yet I’m still trying to yank it open as I call out for Kato.

A crash sounds from the front of the house, meaning my husband has his own ordeal to deal with. I’m on my own until Maddox and Brixton get back.

When a hand tangles in my hair, it’s like all my instincts log back on at the same time. No fucking way will I let anyone ever take me away from my men again, not without a fight.

Reaching back, I wrap my hands around the person’s wrist to keep them from pulling any harder, raise my foot, and slam my heel down on top of their foot as hard as possible.

The man curses and his hand loosens enough for me to pull away with only a few strands of hair lost.

I can’t get to the guns stashed in the nightstand, under the bed, or in the closet. Looks like I’ll be using my fists, feet, and wits to get me away from this cocksucker.

He no longer looks in pain. From what I can see of his eyes…oh, this asshole is pissed.

Join the club.

As if it wasn’t bad enough to cause me to lose my child, my father and his pissants are trying to ruin my honeymoon. I mean, their objective is to kill all four of us, but that won’t be happening.

I have to trust my husbands, I have to trust Konstantin’s men are as good as Kato promised, and that backup is only moments away.

The problem with the whole waiting thing is how time seems to slow down, to drag until every heartbeat feels like an eternityas I wait for someone to crash through this door and kill the man doing his best to finish what they started years ago.

There has to be a way to fight this fucker off, hold him off until someone either gets in here, or I can make my way to the weapons cache.

Why the hell didn’t we leave something in every possible location? Like, had one been behind the door, I could have just grabbed it, aimed, and fired.

You know what would have been even better? One on my hip. Kind of hard to wear a holster when I’ve been walking around in bikinis, tanks, and flowing skirts, though.

When the masked asshole lunges for me again, I thrust my palm up, aiming for his nose, then raise my knee and bury it between his legs. I’m hoping I got both balls and his dick, but I’ll take anything to throw him off at this point.

“You fucking cunt,” he roars, his voice a little on the nasally side. Don’t know if I broke his nose or if blood is running down his face and the back of his throat. Nor do I care.

The important part is that he’s a few feet from me, just enough for me to yank open the door and sprint from the room.

Except the moment my first foot hits the bamboo flooring, an ear shattering crack tears a shriek from my throat and I duck, wrapping an arm around my head.

Did that asshole just shoot at me?

I don’t stop running, though. It’s better to keep moving if he’s shooting at me. You know, the whole moving target thing.

If I were wearing socks, I would have slid for how quickly I stutter to a stop as my wide eyes take in the scene in the place that should have been our paradise.

My mom. My dad. Mikhail.

And Kato holding a hand to a wound seeping blood through his fingers. It’s his side. That crack was the sound of a bullet being shot at him, not me. And he was hit.

“No!” I scream as I run for him.

Until Mikhail lifts his hand holding the gun and aims it at my head.

Damn it. Where the hell are Brixton and Maddox? Where are the guards? Even if they hadn’t seen my parents and their merry band of assholes approaching, they should have heard the gunshot.

Another question – why the hell is my mom here? I mean, she’d gone on the run with Dad, but why is she glaring at me as though I’m the cause of every plight on the planet?