Page 9 of The Enemy’s Defector (Ivanov Syndicate #3)

KATERINA

B etween the vise grip of that man’s fingers on my neck and the clog of emotion that stayed stuck in my throat, I couldn’t fully swallow.

Breathing came easier with that man dead and no longer trying to choke me.

But as I ran with Nik to get the hell out of here, shallow intakes were all I could get.

Every bit of air cleared more of that nauseating dizziness that swamped my head as I fought to free Nik.

Until we were out of here, though, I’d be struggling to catch up.

Nik’s fingers were sticky and grimy, but strong. He didn’t let go once, no matter how much he seemed to be hurting. Every step we took was harsh, and I worried he might be too wounded to fully run away with me like this.

“That way.” He stopped short, correcting our direction through the slight maze of tunnels and corridors underneath this cabin.

A secret subterranean pathway didn’t shock me.

Nor was I stunned that Nik would know the way out.

As long as this man was breathing and able to form a thought, he would be spying and observing.

Noticing the best exit route was instinct for him.

Paying attention to his surroundings was second nature for him.

This man was a spy and always would be. It was with that conviction that I put all my faith in him to get us out of here and away from what sounded like a stampede of men rushing after us.

Running as fast as we could, sticking together, we aimed upward.

The hurry to go up this ramp felt like the race of a lifetime.

The closed trap doors were so near. Too near.

And I had no way to guess what could be waiting for us on the outside.

With the men coming in and the gunshots I’d fired, they had to know that Nik was on the loose.

No matter how many people were at the mansion, they’d be directed here.

We were literally running for our lives.

But as Nik slammed his shoulder against the diagonally propped trapdoor, the wood slimy and sticky, but solid, he winced and tried again.

I let go of his hand to position myself to join in the efforts. From watching how he braced himself, I timed the hits of my shoulder against the wood in time with his.

Three more times, he smacked the wood until it gave way.

Rain sheeted down. Caught in a deluge against the precipitation that wouldn’t let up, we climbed out and ran toward the cargo van that was parked nearby.

“Go. Get in. Go!” He urged me ahead of him, holding the gun he’d taken from my hands once I’d cut the rope binding his wrists together.

I ran for the driver’s side and hopped in. The keys were still in the ignition—that was how naively trusting the men were here—and I didn’t wait to start the engine.

Nik darted around to the passenger side, firing at the men who surrounded us. He climbed in as I hunched to avoid being hit through the window.

“Go!”

Before he’d fully closed the passenger door, he resumed shooting out the window at the men who were determined to stop us.

With my heart banging so wildly against my ribs, I crouched as low as I could as I sped away.

Ramming into gates and fences, I plowed over every obstacle until we were on the road away from the estate.

No matter how much distance I put between us and the men now speeding after us in cars, I kept my foot on the pedal and concentrated on getting us away.

“To the west,” Nik ordered, staggering through the van to reach the back windows.

Even though this was a cargo van and a wall should stand as a partition between the cab and the cargo area, it was all open.

He skidded and slipped as he crossed to the back and used the gun to smash out one of the tinted rear windows.

From there, he had a better aim at shooting at the men chasing us.

With my frantic speeding and his accurate marksmanship, he deterred the men chasing us and I took us further from where we could be caught or killed.

Only once I was on the main road, more like a highway, did he return to the passenger seat.

The rain hadn’t let up, pelting the windshield without pause. Back and forth, the wipers whipped and cleared the glass so I could see. My vision was fine, regardless of the lackluster driving conditions, but I saw no direction of where to go.

Tunnel vision had limited me for too long.

I’d focused on nothing but finding evidence of Anton killing my father to think about anything else.

Then once I had that proof and knew that Nik was captured, I’d honed in all my efforts to find him.

Now that I had—miraculously, almost—I wasn’t sure of where to go now or what to do.

I hadn’t logically thought that far ahead. I hadn’t given enough attention to the next step.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice so ragged. Breaking the heavy silence with that question, he cleared his throat and stared at me. Feeling the intensity of his gaze, even from my peripheral vision, was too much to bear.

I tore my focus from the road and looked at him, cringing at the bloody mess he was.

The last time I saw him was the night he’d taken my virginity. That night when we met uptown and I had tried to hack into the surveillance feeds so he could tell who’d trespassed in his home to poison his father. We’d both caved that night, kissing until we crossed too many lines.

That night, he was strong and sexy. Bold and confident.

Alluring and too tempting to resist. If I could linger in the peace of not being threatened to death, I could so clearly recall every sensual detail.

How his dark hair hung over his brow as he pounded into me without patience.

How the taut skin of his biceps proved his power as he hovered over me.

How his fingers expertly touched me and made me wet for him, then how intensely he’d gripped his bare dick before lining it up to my pussy as I spread my legs wide for him.

“Katerina,” he said, his tone edged with impatience as I zoned out at the wicked memory of him having sex with me. The enemy fucking me.

I cleared my throat and nodded. If he was asking if I’d live, sure, I would. The hits I’d taken were less than what he’d been subjected to. Red welts and abrasions would line my neck, but I could breathe now. Scars would heal.

“You’re not,” I replied. “You’re not all right.” I furrowed my brow at the depth of how much I hated to see him in any amount of pain. It pained me to see him wounded like this. I was used to violence. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen the results of it. But on him, I loathed it.

He heaved out a deep sigh, slumping against the seat. “I’ll survive.”

I nodded again, not looking at him a third time. He would. I’d seen to it that he’d have a better chance to survive. It would all be for nothing if I didn’t get him to safety, though.

“I’ll take you home and?—”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not yet.”

I frowned at him. “You’re hurt.”

“Then I’ll recover and be hurt somewhere else. I can’t go home yet. Not until I know who did this. Not until I can be confident I wouldn’t lead someone to my family.”

I slowly shook my head, almost amused that he’d treat his captivity as an opportunity to spy.

“Fine. Then I’ll take you to a safehouse where you can recover until you go home.”

“Anton won’t forgive you for this,” he warned.

I couldn’t resist meeting his gaze. “And I won’t forgive him for what he’s done.”

Nik was no stranger to my obsession with finding out who’d killed my father. He was aware of my suspicion that Anton had taken my father’s life. With this sober look we exchanged, he caught on to what I wasn’t saying.

Instead of talking any further, I turned toward one of the safehouses that the Kozlov men wouldn’t be likely to check out. Even though we still had a way to go, silence filled the van.

There was so much more to tell Nik. So many things to ask him. But with his heavy breaths and stillness as he seemed to relax and lower his guard, I didn’t badger him for more. The fact that I’d shown up to free him spoke louder than any words I’d think to tell him now.

He could trust me to have his back. And I could count on him to do the same.

Considering ourselves enemies had never been more confusing.

After I reached the safehouse, I got out to run through the rain and manually open the garage door. He’d shifted over to the driver’s seat to pull the van in, and I promptly closed the door.

No one would see us now. No one could track us inside here. I paused with my back against the van wall as I closed my eyes and sighed in relief.

We’d done it.

We’d gotten away.

I had pulled it off.

I’d gotten Nik out like I’d promised myself I would.

And now I’d need to figure out my next step.

Nik turned off the engine. The vibration of the van stopping jarred me from this stolen moment of relief. Pushing off the van’s side, I approached the driver’s side to help him out.

“Are there cameras here?” he asked, fully aware that I often hacked into the security systems for the Kozlov properties.

I shook my head, reaching up to guide him out and to lean against me.

“No. The last time I checked it, I disabled the cameras.” Cringing at his dead weight against me, I strained to stay upright.

“As soon as I heard rumors that you were missing, I started checking the surveillance footage of all the properties to see where you were.”

“ All the properties?” He arched one brow as he shuffled out of the garage with me. But even that facial expression was too much to bear. Blood dripped from a gash near his hairline, and the swollen skin around his eye proved painful.

I nodded. “I kept looking. Then I finally found you tonight.”

Leading him inside, I took my time with the two steps up into the house. Each movement he made challenged my balance. Even when he was hurt and weak, he was so big. Larger than life.

By the time we fully got into the house, entering an empty kitchen, I was slick with the blood from his side, arm, and face. The metallic smell seemed so strong, overpowering my nose, and I winced at how much it bothered me.

Blood was just blood.

I didn’t have a weak stomach.

I wasn’t a dainty woman.

But something about smelling so much blood right now turned my stomach.

Get a grip, Kat.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to a little blood and gore. Hell, every month I had to deal with?—

I stiffened. The very thought of another occasion of bloodiness nearly stopped me from moving at all.

“What?” Nik turned to face me, furrowing his brow. He’d noticed that sharp intake of air. He was so attuned to me that he was aware of the slight change in my behavior.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as I continued again, leading him through the kitchen, hopefully toward a bedroom where he could rest and I’d help him with his injuries.

I shook my head faintly, so overwhelmed by what my reaction to blood triggered.

It was that memory of him. That last time I saw him before tonight.

He’d stared into my eyes as he braced himself over me. As I’d spread my legs wide, inviting him to take me hard, he’d curled his long fingers around his thick cock to line the tip up with my entrance.

His bare cock.

That he’d stuffed in me and stretched me with until we both came so hard.

After that night, I left with his cum still inside me. Where it remained long enough for me to miss my period.

I was late. I was really late, only aware of it right now when I was considering my reaction to his bleeding. With the search for evidence, then the hunt for Nik, I’d been so distracted that I hadn’t realized I’d missed my period.

Back with Nik, though, and recalling the fact that we hadn’t used protection, I resisted thinking about the idea of being…

Pregnant.

“Katerina.” Nik stopped, forcing me to go still too. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t tell him. Not like this. Not now. Maybe not ever. I couldn’t worsen his burdens when he was barely surviving, breathing so hard and bleeding too much.

“Nothing,” I lied, breaking eye contact and urging him to walk forward again.

Having Nik’s baby would be a blessing—to me.

Until I could guess how we’d move past this day, though, I hated how easy it was to assume this would be a hell of a complication to our already messy lives.