Page 14 of Beautifully Ruined

I’m wondering what kind of chance I have if I try to play the eleventh-hour problem and grasping out extra minutes or seconds or if I can just sit back and claim there’s no way to do it in this amount of time…

And what? Have him shoot Vi?

The gun isn’t up, but one of his men has hold of her.

Ivan’s attention is on me.

I could smash this computer in Ivan’s face. It’d have to be at the last minute, with all my strength and focus going to the task instead of to Vi.

She’s not resisting, thank fuck, which means she’s not seen as a threat.

I’m not, either, not really. But I’m fit, and I’m sitting here testing muscles as I pretend to work, assessing the extent of injuries and trying to catalogue them into superficial and deep.

My ribs, for example, aren’t shattered. Hairline fractures yes, and something made me cough up blood—probably one of thepunches to my jaw, but now I’m breathing easier, even as I keep wheezing.

My face hurts, and I think there’s a cut from a ring above my eye. One eye is swollen, yeah, but they know exactly how to hit.

How to hurt to bring on debilitating pain but not to harm on a more permanent level.

Not unless they need to. Or they want to.

Which means, I need to make a move soon. And I have to know how much strength and control I have on my side.

Which unfortunately, is not nearly enough.

But I’m fast. Good at surprise.

I—

The door bursts open, a cascade of splintered wood raining through the room.

Before any rational thought hits me, the computer is in my hands being ripped up as I turn, swinging, and I slam it into Ivan’s face, knocking him back.

I don’t think I’ve ever loved Enzo more in my life or been so happy to see him.

Men pour into the room, letting in the cacophony of gun fire from above rush in behind them.

I drop as Ivan stumbles aiming at me.

A bullet rips into his arm, the gun skittering.

I turn to shout at the men not to shoot my girl, right as the man still holding her pulls a gun.

Everything stops and tunnels down to just the gun in the fucker’s hand and Vi.

“Cade!”

Enzo tosses me a gun, and I catch it.

Aiming, I don’t hesitate and pull the trigger, hitting the guy in the head.

He falls, and I motion to Vi to hit the deck, too.

I go down, not caring about the jolt of agony that hits.

Amid the chaos of men pouring in, bullets flying everywhere, somehow Ivan gets up and runs from the room.

I grab Vi and cover her as bullets fly low.