Page 15 of Beautifully Ruined

Enzo shouts, “She fine?”

“Get the fucker.”

Enzo and the others take off after the fleeing bratva members and Ivan, gunfire sounding as they do.

I don’t hold on to the hope they took out Ivan. Even wounded, bleeding, men like that have countless others willing and able to lay down their lives for them and get them to safety.

And I really hope I’m wrong, but I’m pretty fucking sure I’m right.

“You okay, Vi?”

“Alive.”

That’s going to have to do.

I want to kiss her, turn her in my arms and cradle her, check to see how she’s doing, but I can’t. Yet.

Instead, I hold her sweet, shaking body against mine, protecting her, the gun still gripped tight as I look around, shooting any thug that moves.

Footsteps race closer, and I raise the gun, finger on the trigger until I see who it is.

I get up and help Vi up, looking at Enzo.

“Sorry, man. He got away.”

“You shocked? No, don’t answer that. We’ll deal with hm later.” I turn to Violet. “Hey.”

She lifts her head. “I’m fine.”

Her words are thin, brittle and I deliberately ignore Enzo’s expression.

Her pupils are a little too large, but she seems otherwise okay. However, I know how shock works, and I’ll carry her if needed.

“Can you run?”

Her eyes narrow. “To get out of this place? You bet your ass, I can.”

Anger. That I can deal with. It gives energy, motivation, and we need to get out of here.

I take her hand, and she grips it tight.

Enzo shakes his head. “We’re in motherfucking Staten Island. Since when did the Russians move in?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he likes to have secret lairs? I don’t think this is a place where he lives.” As we go, I look around at the opulence marred by blood and bodies. “I take that back. I think he might do more of his illicit business here.”

Enzo frowns. “How so?”

“By being outside his usual haunts.” Vi keeps her eyes on the floor so she doesn’t look at the destruction around her. “I don’t know…it’s what I’d do if I was some kind of criminal mastermind hiding behind the veneer of upstanding citizen.”

“She’s smart,” Enzo mutters, shooting a man who groans. “A keeper.”

My keeper flinches at the sound of the shot.

It’s eerie quiet now as we make our way through, but both Enzo and I are aware that if Andronski got away, it means we don’t have much time. He’ll be sending backup to take out us, other survivors, the whole building.

And Enzo knows it, but he is trying to keep things light. “You should watch it. I’ll steal her.”

“Try.”