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He swore under his breath. “You two took out half of my men in ten minutes,” he said, disappointed. I had been around billionaires before, and they were always so…bizarre. It always reminded me of a kid discovering the world for the first time—billionaires didn’t live on the same plane of existence as everyone else, so when they tapped back in to humanity, it was like everything was new all over again. “My mercenary training programs need an overhaul.” He looked at me. “Are you looking for work?”
I was going to get whiplash. “Huh?”
“I’m offering you a job,” he said slower, as if we were talking in a loud bar, and he didn’t have a blade to the love of my life’s throat.
Love of my life? Where did that come from?
I shook my head. It wasn’t the time for that particular spiral right now. I dialed back in when I realized Hayes was talking again. “Obviously the men I’ve hired aren’t up to snuff if they can be picked off so easily. So, what do you say? I’ll pay you a hell of a lot more than the FBI.”
“There’s nothing you have that I want.”
Hayes laughed. It was a sound completely devoid of joy or humor; it was the kind of laugh of someone who was planning to viciously murder you. “I’m sure you could think of one thing,” he said, and he pressed the blade a little harder into Nataliya’s neck.
She went stiff, and I watched bright red bloom on her pale skin. I had my gun out of its holster and pointed at him before I could even think about it. “Adrian,” Zach said warningly.
“You should listen to your friend,” Hayes said. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt Nataliya here, would you? She’s so beautiful. It would be a shame if I flinched and cut her throat open.” He pressed the blade in a little harder, and Nataliya whimpered softly. “She’d be dead in seconds.”
I kept my gun trained on Hayes, but my eyes flicked to Nataliya. She was scared, I could tell, but she wasn’t seconds from falling apart. If anything?—
Her eyes met mine, and then she purposely looked at the gun. Then, her eyes were back on mine. She couldn’t nod, not without risking slicing her own neck, but she was giving me a signal regardless. Shoot him.
Hayes didn’t leave himself a lot of vulnerable space. He’d done an impressive job of making her a human shield. Taking a breath, I started to lower my weapon, but then as Hayes relaxed, a triumphant smile growing on his face, I squeezed the trigger. His knee exploded, and he screamed, loud and shrill.
The knife moved away from Nataliya’s throat, but when he didn’t let her go, Nataliya bashed her head backward, connecting with his nose. Hayes howled again, and he dropped to the ground.
“Move,” I said to her, still aiming at him, and she backed out of range as quickly as possible. “Zach.”
Zach moved forward and got him handcuffed—the pair was attached to his flak jacket—so that even if Hayes could gather himself to lunge at us, he wouldn’t be able to grab hold of anything. Only after I knew he wasn’t a threat did I lower my weapon. From the sounds of scrambling, I imagined that the rest of Hayes’s guards were running for it before the authorities could show up.
I pulled my cell phone out and called Drake.
“What’s your status?” he asked immediately.
“Zach, Nataliya, and I are clear. Hayes needs an ambulance. Put in a call to the local PD,” I said.
“Got it,” Drake said.
“Is it done?” Nataliya asked. Her voice was small, almost timid.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” I said. “It’s done.”
TWENTY-THREE
ADRIAN
If I didn’t get Nataliya in my arms soon, I was going to combust. I was sure of it. But even as I stared at her, safe and sound at last, I held myself back. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to touch her yet. Or ever again.
Nataliya opened her mouth, like she wanted to say something, but then she closed it again. Finally, after a short eternity, she crossed the space between us and threw her arms around my neck. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you for coming for me.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her close. I couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief at getting to hold her like this again. “I’ll always come for you,” I promised. “No matter what.”
She drew back enough to look at me, though she didn’t let go. “Adrian, I?—”
“I know I said some awful things to you,” I cut her off. “I was angry, and I didn’t want to listen, and I’m sorry.”
Her expression softened. “It’s okay.”
I shook my head and cupped her face. “It’s not,” I insisted. “I would never want you to feel like you weren’t being heard. I just?—”
