Page 22 of Wicked Refusal

But it would be a mistake. Desya’s dangerous. And right now, he’s still way too close to Mia.

Shit.I shouldn’t have sent Maksim out for reinforcements.

“Don’t let him get under your skin, Nik,” I say. “That’s what he does. He wants you distracted.”

“Do I, now?” His gaze burns a trail down her body. “‘Cause, right now, I kind of want her on her knees.”

It all happens too fast.

Nikita lunges for Desya. I try to block her, but she’s quick when she wants to be, and right now, she’s got every reason in the world. Her sister’s killer is there, taunting her, begging her to take a swing at him.

So she does.

And Desya grins.

He takes her punch like a champ, teeth red and bloody with the blow. But before I can do anything—before I can try to figure out how to shoot him without risking her life or Mia’s—he twists her arm around and puts his knife to her throat.

Nikita’s gun clatters to the ground. Desya puts his foot on it, keeping it handy for himself. “Gotcha.”

“Nikita!” Mia screams. Her arms thrash against the restraints, her chair wobbling with the force of it. “Let her go, you psycho!”

“I meant it, you know.” Desya’s voice drops low, his face uncomfortably close to Nikita’s. “If I’d known you’d grow up to look this good, I’d have stashed you away somewhere before I killed your whore of a sister. We could’ve had some fun eventually.”

The look on Nikita’s face is murderous. I’ve never seen her so furious, so out of control. “I will dig your other eye out of your skull.”

“But then I couldn’t look at your pretty face anymore.”

“Let her go, Desya,” I say icily. “Or I swear, I’ll fill you with holes.”

“Nah.” He tucks Nikita closer to him. If she’d been at full strength, she would have broken his arm like a twig. “I don’t think you will.”

“That’s a bold assumption.”

“Is it?” He jerks his head towards Mia. “Because I think your little princess is about to taste lead.”

I flick my gaze to Mia—and I see it.

A red dot. Right on her forehead.

There’s no time to think. No time to do anything but act.

I take my gun off Desya and yank her down for cover.

The shot rings out moments later. It embeds itself in the peeling wallpaper, slicing through the air where Mia was.

I get her ropes, cut her free. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she gasps. “But Desya is getting away!”

I snap my head towards the end of the room. “Shit,”

Nikita’s lying on the ground, unconscious or maybe dead. I have no time to check her pulse. Desya’s dashing into the hallway, and God knows I’ll never catch him again if I lose him now.

Mia seems to read my thoughts. “I’ll stay with her,” she whispers urgently. “Go! Now!”

I hesitate. Just for a split second, but I do. “Be careful,” I tell her.

“I will.”