Page 85 of Sexting the Bratva Beast

He hears it too. Back on his feet in an instant, he scans the library, searching for me, and I pray that he won’t hear my heartbeat going thump-thump-thump. I’m unarmed. Even if I had a weapon, I wouldn’t know how to use it.

But he must decide that escape is his best option because I watch, trembling, from my hiding place as the door opens wider allowing the light in and Yuri an exit strategy.

I ignore the bullets ricocheting along the hallway. The instant the door clicks shut, I crawl out from behind the bookcase and cross the floor on my hands and knees to where Ivana is lying motionless.

“Ivana?” I examine her body quickly.

It’s hard to miss the hole in her chest, and the blood pumping from the wound, saturating her black sweater and creating a puddle on the carpet.

“Ivana? Can you hear me?”

I’ve studied first aid. I know what to do if someone has a heart attack or a stroke. I know not to move someone if they’ve been involved in a car crash and suffered damage to their neck or spine. I can treat infected wounds or make a splint for a broken limb or detect concussion.

But I’ve never been faced with a potentially fatal bullet wound.

She’s watching me, I realize, with her dark eyes. The green flicks on her eyelids are still, unbelievably, intact.

“Go.” Her voice is barely audible.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I strip off my hoodie, ignoring the goosebumps that pop on my arms from the chill and the satin camisole that I wanted to surprise Andrej with. I fold the hoodie into a bundle and press it over the wound in Ivana’s chest to stem the flow of blood.

“It’s okay. Andrej will be here soon.” I try, and fail, to inject some confidence into my voice.

The door opens again and, heart battering my ribs, I look around to find some of Andrej’s men. The leader’s eyes immediately settle on Ivana on the floor, and the makeshift compress that I’m holding against her chest.

“She needs to get to a hospital,” I say.

He nods once. “You’re coming with us.”

“I can’t leave her.” I stare at him, hoping that he can see in my eyes how utterly fucking ridiculous his expectations are. “Didn’t you hear me? She needs?—"

“Where did they go?” Because catching the intruder is their priority.

“I don’t know. Will you call?—”

They don’t stick around long enough for me to finish.

Ivana is still watching me. I can feel the blood seeping through the hoodie already. This isn’t good. This is really fucking bad.

But I force a smile, try to keep my voice calm.

Don’t panic the victim.

“It’s okay, Ivana. I won’t leave you.”

“Gun…” She tries to raise her arm, but I take the gun from her hand and set it down on the floor. “Take it.”

“Don’t talk.” There are blood speckles on her lips, and I know that if she doesn’t get medical assistance soon, she isn’t going to make it. “Andrej will be here soon. He’ll know what to do.”

I don’t know what deal Ivana had with Yuri Asimov, and I don’t care that he called her ‘friend’. This woman saved my life, and I’m not going to leave her here to die.

22

ANDREJ

Cold.My face is squashed against something icy, but I feel the sweat beading on my forehead. Dark too.