I glare at him in stunned horror when he gestures silently to Trey. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he’s participated in mob ambushes before.
Although I have a million thoughts streaming through my head, none of them matter when Trey and three men make their way to the locked room. With all threats neutralized, Maddox and I can trace their footsteps.
The swirls of my stomach ramp up with every inch of ground we cover. I don’t pay any attention to the deceased men lying lifeless on the blood-stained concrete, or hear a word Trey is saying as he directs his men to swarm the room after a bullet buckles the padlock. The only thing I can hear is my raging heart and the prayer I’ve said on repeat since I woke up dazed and confused over seven hours ago.
Please let Nikolai be alive.
Some of my prayers are answered when I enter the room on the heels of Maddox, but they aren’t my greatest wish. With the eyes of a murderer and a clutch on Trey’s throat that reveals he’s minutes from killing him, Rico pins Trey to the inner wall of his room. His hold is so firm, Trey’s feet dangle midair, and the life drains from his eyes in under a second.
“Stop!” I demand, shocked I’m the only one acting on instincts.
There are several armed men in the room, but not one attempts to stop Rico’s wrath. I understand their objection; Nikolai gave Rico a full pardon, which means no one can touch him, but that doesn’t mean they can sit by and watch Trey be attacked—does it?
“He’s one of us!” My endeavor to pry Rico’s hand from Trey’s neck has my nails piercing his skin, but I don’t back down.
As blood trickles down Rico’s wrist, his almost-black eyes drift to me. I swallow numerous times in a row, shocked by the intensity bursting from his eyes. He appears as though he’s been swallowed by a giant black hole.
“It’s me, Justine.” My words are separated by big breaths. I’m truly panicked. “We’re here to help you. Where are Blaire and Eli?”
When Rico blinks at the mention of his wife, I know I am getting through to him. “Where is your Kitten, Rico?”
Trey’s windpipe squeaks when Rico suddenly releases him from his grip. He falls to the ground in a heap, torn between breathing and ending Rico’s ability to breathe. The tension brimming between them is so intense, it’s even hard for me to breathe.
“It’s okay,” I assure both men, although I’m truly unsure if it is.
The width of Rico’s eyes reveals his actions aren’t his own, much less the puncture wounds in his arm. He’s injured, drugged, and fighting the urge to go on a rampage. He’s the most dangerous he’s ever been.
My brows furrow when my scan of his body reveals a snapped chain on his left wrist. The width of the chain should have made it impossible for a human to snap, but I’ll never underestimate the determination of a man trying to protect his family. Nikolai could be on his death bed, and he’d still fight to keep me safe.
When Rico moves to the side of the room, his steps sloth-like and pained, I signal for the men surrounding him to stand down. He could have snapped Trey’s neck, but he didn’t. That proves the man inside him is stronger than his outer shell.
“Jesus Christ,” I murmur under my breath when Rico tosses a king-size mattress across the room as if it is a feather.
His strength isn’t what has me choking back tears; it is the image of his wife and son huddled together causing my sobbing response. From the way the dirt around them is swirling, it is obvious Rico used his body to shelter them.
“Get the SUVs,” I demand before racing across the room. Blaire and Eli aren’t moving, but they both have a pulse. It’s faint but there all the same. “We need to get them medical treatment ASAP.”
Recognizing we’re here to help them, Rico lifts an unconscious Blaire into his arms. In comparison to his wide, heavily panting chest, she looks like a tiny, fragile doll.
“It’s okay,” I assure Rico when he tries to pick up Eli as well. “We’ve got him.”
I’m sure he can handle both of them, but with his shredded shirt incapable of hiding the large knife wound in his stomach, I’d rather he didn’t.
I signal for Maddox to help me with Eli. He’s not heavy. My body is just shaking so much, I don’t trust myself not to drop him.
As we make our way to the SUVs Trey ordered to the front of the hangar, Rico eyes the man kneeling at the feet of their captors. His glare warns them their surrender will not be the end of their fight. He’s out for blood; he’s just putting his family first—for now.
I’ve only just closed the car door with a safe Rico, Blaire, and Eli inside when someone darting past me captures my attention. I should demand for Trey to come with me, but with my instincts in overdrive, I take off after the person breaking through thick scrub at the side of the hangar.
“Maya?” My voice is weak, as unsure of my question as my hazy mind’s assumption it is her.
Why would Maya be here? It makes no sense at all.
Seconds before a thick tree trunk hides her from my view, Maya cranks her neck back to peer at me. I chase after her, certain no amount of haze would make me mistake her face. I’ve interacted with her numerous times the past twelve months and see her more as a friend than a member of Nikolai’s staff.
My mad dash through the heavily treed property stops when the sound of accented voices captures my attention. They’re not French like Maya. They’re Russian.
“Whoa there, little lady. Slow down.”
