He's shooting at me.
The pale glimmer of Iris and Rose's wedding dresses is my beacon, I'm reaching for them, running, tripping over the goddamn train of my dress.
The french doors explode open and the first one through is Melina, wearing night vision goggles and shooting Jonas in the shoulder and in the next second, Malcolm.
I'm falling backward, Colin's yanking on the train that goddamn train was such a bad idea and then, highlighted by the flames behind him, Roman strides into the room. His gaze goes straight to me.
"Ashford. You kidnapped my bride."
Still looking at me, he shoots Colin in the knee, grinning as my 'fiancé' screams. The gun drops from Colin's hand as he crumples to the floor like wet tissue paper.
***
Time seems to speed up and then slows down in disorienting waves. The fire is doused; the screaming stops and the occasional gunshots seem specific. I'm huddled on the window seat, my arms around Rose and Iris as Roman commands his troops with the confidence of Alexander the Great.
Ivan and Melina haul The Chads up, ignoring their pained groans, though we certainly enjoy listening to them.
Roman crouches in front of me, holding my gaze as they're dragged out.
"What are you going to do with them?" I ask.
His devil's grin has never been more terrifying. "Playtime."
"Playtime?" Iris says, frowning. "But they were-"
"Trust me," I say, still staring into Roman's gleaming eyes. "You don't want a playtime like the one they're about to get."
They look at each other, perplexed as I lean closer to Roman, almost nose to nose. "Yourbride?"
He shrugs. "I was going to tell you."
***
"Don't look," I tell the girls as we leave the room. "Keep your eyes on the front gate. Don't look anywhere else."
I look, though. I want to remember.
Bodies lay in piles like grotesque lawn ornaments, the stifling fog of smoke from the parts of the mansion that are on fire chokes me, makes my eyes water. There are huge divots in the once pristine lawns and gardens from the explosives.
Colin, Malcolm, and Jonas are thrown roughly into one of the cars, bleeding and stupidly trying to negotiate, still thinking their money was going to save them. Colin's head shoots up and he catches sight of me through the smoke. He keeps his eyes on mine as they shove him in the backseat.
I grab the rough material of Roman’s jacket and kiss him, fiercely. “I love you,” I say, mashing my lips against his in a clumsy kiss. “I love you with everything in me.”
The firelight sculpts his face into angles and shadows as he smiles back, cupping my face in his hands. “I love you, too. I know this isn’t flowers,” he nods at the bullet-ridden landscape behind us. “But it’s the most convincing way to say it.”
I might be crying a little. “It’s absurdly romantic in a really fucked up way.”
His rough thumb strokes over my cheekbone. “That’s what I was going for.” Putting his arm around me, he leads me to the waiting car. “I'm going to take you home."
Chapter Thirty-Two
In which, as any dour Russian will tell you, if it seemed too easy, it was.
Roman…
The mood is always good when we finish a successful mission, but this time felt… I'm not sure you can characterize any of these stoic Russian guards asgiddy,but it's as close as you can get.
I placed a call to Dmitri before we left the mansion, a conflagration of oily smoke and vicious flame.
