Chapter 25 Adrian
ADRIAN
We stand there completely naked, shaking with silent laughter, trying our best not to let Victor hear.
I stare at her as she clutches her shirt to her chest, her hair wild from our fun and her eyes bright with amusement. My heart races, not from fear, but from the rush of the moment, of having her back, of feeling normal again.
I hear some fast-paced movement from the living room, and I swear I hear Victor's voice, but it's cut off instantly.
A deafening BANG rocks the cabin, rattling the walls, shaking dust from the beams above us.
Elena's laughter dies. Her hand shoots out and grips my arm, squeezing tightly. "What the hell was that?"
I don't answer right away. I'm already listening.
Another sound follows. Sharp. Rapid. Pop. Pop. Pop.
I hear glass shatter in the living room, and then the windows in our room break apart in a violent spray of bullets.
My blood turns to ice.
"Gunfire."
Elena's face drains of color. Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
I grab her and we drop to the ground, bullets flying overhead.
"Stay down," I yell as I shove my legs into my boxer briefs, yanking them up as I lunge for the nightstand. My gun is inside the drawer there. I check the magazine by instinct and chamber a round.
More gunfire erupts outside. It sounds closer now, and it comes in short, controlled bursts.
Elena scrambles to pull on her clothes, her hands shaking so badly she can barely get her arms through the sleeves.
"Adrian!"
"It's ok. Bathroom. Now."
I grab her wrist and we run crouched through the bathroom door. I put her into the corner between the toilet and the tub. It feels like it'll be the most reinforced part of the room.
I crouch down to her eye level. Her pupils are wide with terror, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
"Stay here," I say, gripping her face. "Do not move. Do not make a sound. I'll come back for you."
"Adrian, no..."
I kiss her hard, then pull back. I get up, press the lock button on the door handle, look at her. "I'll be right back," I say, and shut it.
Her muffled scream cuts through the door. "Adi!”
But I force myself to move.
The bedroom window overlooks the back of the cabin. I crouch low and edge toward it, keeping my body just below any line of sight.
When I get to right below the window, I pop my head up. Outside, once undisturbed snow is now trampled. Fresh boot prints are everywhere.
Men in black move in formation, waving to one another with their assault rifles raised. Four that I can see right now, but I'm sure there's more.
These must be Volkov's mercenaries here to collect the bounty.
I duck back down and lean against the wall.
Fuck, they found us.
I take a few deep breaths and stare at the bathroom door. She's in there, and no one walking this earth is going to take her again.
She's mine and mine alone.
I turn and bring my head back up. I only see two men now, but I track their movements, waiting for the right moment.
One of them glances toward the window.
Guess it's now.
I raise my gun and fire through the glass. It spiderwebs and shatters outward. The man drops into the snow, a red mist hanging in the air where his head used to be.
I shift my aim and fire again, two shots directly at another's chest. The second man falls and the snow around him instantly turns red.
Then the return fire comes.
Bullets fly through the bedroom wall like it's made of paper. Wood splinters explode around me, peppering my face and my arms. I throw myself to the floor and roll, scrambling toward the hallway as the wall and what's left of the window glass disintegrates behind me.
I need to see about Victor.
I crawl on my elbows and knees, keeping low, my gun held tight. The rugs burn my skin and my ears ring from the gunfire, muffling everything.
Once I get into the hallway, I stand up and flatten myself against the wall and make my way forward.
I risk a glance around the corner and see that the front windows are gone. Glass covers everything. It's on the couch, the floor, and the coffee table. Cold air rushes in, and normally I'd be cold in just my underwear, but my adrenaline doesn't let me register it.
Turning, I see Victor ducking behind the overturned couch, his suit jacket torn, his hair disheveled. He ejects a spent magazine and slaps in a new one with practiced efficiency.
He sees me and smiles. "I heard they were coming, so I came back. Nice of them to wait for me to get inside."
I crawl over to him, glass crunching under my feet, creating small cuts. "How many?"
"Didn't get a good look before they threw a fucking bomb at the door."
"That's what that was?"
He nods and peers out over the couch.
"How many in the back?" he asks.
"I counted four. Killed two. So at least two left out there. Plus however many are in front."
Victor nods. "I bet they didn't expect to get killed by a half-naked Romanian."
"Yeah, well..."
As if on cue, bullets come through where the front door was, shredding what's left of the hanging door pieces.
"Get down!" Victor says.
We duck as someone throws in a smoke bomb, and suddenly it's like we're in the middle of a fucking cloud.
Through the haze, I see mercenaries pour through the front, four of them, I think.
They move fast, guns sweeping the room, and their boots stepping on the broken glass give their positions away.
Victor and I open fire at the same time.
The first mercenary jerks backward as my bullets pierce through his chest. He collapses, blood spraying across the wall behind him.
Victor drops another with a headshot. The man's helmet cracks and he crumples to the ground.
We continue firing as they shoot at us, but I can't see the others, and God knows how many are still outside.
"This damn smoke. There may be too many of them," I say. "I want you to take Elena and run!"
"Fuck that!" Victor snaps, ejecting another magazine. "I'm not leaving you behind!"
"Victor."
"No. We all leave together or not at all."
Suddenly, through the smoke, a mercenary charges us. I get one round off, but he doesn't slow and crashes into me.
His hands grip my throat and start squeezing with so much force, air is cut off from my lungs completely.
I go to bring my gun up and he brings his head down and headbutts me. The pain jolts through my nose and my eyes water.
"Motherfucker!" I yell, turning to the side. A shot comes out and the man goes limp and falls forward on me. I push him off and spin around to see Victor's gun raised.
"You're welcome," he says, and I quickly raise my gun and fire three times behind him and a man drops to the ground.
"Even."
We turn and look around. The room is chaos. Smoke and noise and bodies moving too fast. My vision narrows to targets and threats.
I have to keep her safe.
I move without thinking, running off muscle memory, training, and instinct.
A man charges from the right. I pivot and fire. His knee explodes and he screams, dropping his weapon. I step forward and finish him with a shot to the head.
Victor is on my left firing. The smoke is starting to clear now, the large hole moving wind through the area is helping to filter it all out.
Someone tries to flank us. I catch the movement in my peripheral vision and spin, firing blind. The bullet catches him in the shoulder, spinning him around. Victor finishes him.
My lungs burn now and sweat stings my eyes.
A shape moves near the door. I raise my gun and squeeze the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
Fuck.
The man raises his rifle and I throw myself sideways as he fires. The bullets tear through the space where I was standing, so close I feel the heat.
I hit the ground hard, rolling behind the wreckage of the coffee table. My hands fumble for a spare magazine I don't have.
Shit.
I toss my gun and jump on the chest of a dead man and take his gun that's resting at his side.
Just as I'm about to return fire, I hear something I never wanted to hear.
A scream.
Elena.
My heart stops.
I spin toward the hallway, and I run. I don't think or look or check my corners. I just go to her.
I swear I don't even hear the gunshot, but it must have happened because the pain hits me hard.
A white-hot burn tears through my left bicep. The impact spins me halfway around, and I stagger, my hand instinctively going to the wound.
Warm blood pours through my fingers. I look down. The bullet tore clean through the muscle, missing the bone but getting everything else. Blood pumps out with each heartbeat, staining my skin dark red.
A man comes into my view and I raise my gun and fire.
Once. Twice. Three times.
I don't stop to see if he's dead. I turn and just keep moving, stumbling toward the hallway, toward Elena.
But I'm not fast enough.
Another shot cracks through the air. This one hits the same up, but the bullet lodges itself in my shoulder.
The impact knocks me off balance, and I go down hard, my back slamming into the floor. Pain explodes through my shoulder, radiating down my arm, across my chest.
I can't breathe for a second. I can't move.
I feel warm liquid running down my chest, under my chin.
Victor's voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. "Adrian!"
I hear him fire, but it sounds muffled, and then there's silence.
I then hear hard footsteps and Victor's face appears above me. "Shit. Shit, Adrian, stay with me. You okay?"
I try to sit up, but my left arm doesn't work. It hangs useless at my side, blood streaming down from the two gunshot wounds to pool on the floor beneath me.
"Get Elena," I say.