Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Behind me, the security guards take one look through the open door and bolt away. Probably to get reinforcements or the cops.
Cleo stands beside him, one hand wrapped around the familiar black briefcase that’s brought us so much grief. She stares at Guchkov like she can’t believe he’s on the floor.
For half a heartbeat, she lifts her glassy gaze and we lock eyes.
A whole conversation happens without speaking a word.
Her lips move, and I know she wants to say my name.
No time, girl.
Everything whips by, though it feels like treading water.
The window—a small glint moving past the blind, probably coming from the tall building across the street.
“Get down!” I yell, kicking the radio out of Guchkov’s hand and diving after it.
Cleo hits the floor first. I’m grateful she doesn’t hesitate.
A panicked Talbot moves, too, plastering himself against the wall as he sinks down on his knees, muttering, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”
The first bullet shatters the window and fills the room with dust. I wrap my hand around the radio and roll, coming up unharmed.
Guchkov drops his hands from his face, revealing a broken nose and an ugly, bloodied scrape around one eye. More pain for his battle-damaged face.
He cranes his neck and snarls, baring his teeth.
Clee must’ve gotten in a good hit. His vision seems impaired. I notice it in the way he moves his head, trying to focus, partly blinded.
That’s all I need.
I hit him first and we go down together before he can push off the ground.
Blinded or not, he’s still just as deadly. He elbows me in the ribs, spits blood in my face, but I add a few more scars to his ugly mug, skinning my knuckles as my fist crashes into his jaw.
He grunts and kicks my leg, but I fight through the pain.
He grabs his gun, tearing it from his belt and bringing it up to me, aiming at my throat.
“Holden!” Cleo’s scream wrecks me.
Snarling, I grab his thumb and wrench it back until I hear the vicious snap!
The gun falls and hits the floor.
When it lands, I half expect it to go off, but it doesn’t, skittering safely away.
Just man to man now, and I like my odds.
Especially when Clee shakes herself out of her trance, diving for the gun, wrapping her small fingers around it.
Good girl.
I can barely spare her a glance as I force the Russian down and slam my good knee against Guchkov’s throat.
“Give me the gun, sweetheart,” I whisper, holding up my hand.
Her trembling fingers brush mine as she passes it over.
After this, I owe her.
Infinitely more than the heartbreak I’ve served up on a silver platter.
I press the gun against Guchkov’s head and he stills. His dark, hazy eyes flick around the room desperately.
Asshole’s probably wondering how his scheme went so wrong. He must’ve planned this so carefully and had total confidence in the execution.
There’s a loud, rasping sound in the corner. Fairfax, I realize, turtling under the desk. I can’t tell if he’s been shot.
That’s for later.
“Don’t. Don’t move. Don’t think I won’t smear your brains on the floor,” I growl in his ear. Adrenaline throttles my nerves, but I’m still in full control.
I might need to ice that knee later, but right now, I barely feel it.
“Wait! He has hostages. Not here.” Cleo’s words trip over themselves as she says them. “I don’t know where. Children.”
A Russian voice crackles over the radio.
Fuck.
What’s at stake stabs me in the throat as I stare into Guchkov’s soulless black eyes.
He planned this well. A dead hand system for retribution we can’t just turn off.
There’s no stopping what’s in motion. But what’s taking the museum security so long?
I can already hear distant voices coming from the hall, and if I turn around, I’ll probably see faces peering through the ruined door.
The cops will roll up with a tactical team any second. And it won’t help us if Black Talon has goon squads ready to act remotely.
Time turns to mud again. My brain works too fast, grinding in the sludge like stuck wheels.
I need to stop innocent people from getting hurt, and with Guchkov down, I only have seconds.
The corner of his mouth curls bitterly.
He thinks he’s won, even if he gets arrested because good guys don’t take risks with people’s lives. That’s the lesson.
Even though he’s pinned down under me, he believes he has the upper hand. One last gasp of power and bloodlust before he goes into custody.
“Cleo,” I growl. “Get the egg out of its case. Now.”
“Huh?” I hear her gasp. “But—”
“Listen to me.”
Another second and I hear her unlock it. I don’t look away from Guchkov’s face, smeared with blood and still so smug.
“Not one move,” I warn coldly. “I’ll bury a bullet in your head before I let you hurt anyone else.”
“How noble.” He sneers thickly. “You talk like it isn’t too late.”