Page 3 of Barinov

Roman’s eyes flutter, then close.

“No, no, no!” I shake him, both hands gripping at his shoulders. “Don’t fucking close your eyes, Roman! Don’t you fucking die!”

Cade jabs at the screen and slides his thumb over the glass. It leaps from his grip and clatters onto the hardwood below.

“Shit.” He scrambles to snatch it back up. “Pick up. Pick up. Pick up,” he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut. “Jack! It’s… It’s Cade. Call me back. We need you.”

He lowers the phone, thumb still hovering over the dead screen. “Voicemail.”

“Tex,” I rasp, the fabric in my hand already soaked. “Call Tex.”

“Right,” he says, nodding. His fingers fumble and the phone nearly slips again before he shoves it to his ear. “Tex! Get to The Obsidian.” His voice cracks on a shrieking, high note. He swallows hard. “It’s Bella. He took her. And Roman… Tex, the blood.”

Silence echoes.

“Yeah, it’s on the way.” Cade’s free hand grips his hair, pulling hard enough to white his knuckles. “I don’t know!” he suddenly shrieks into the phone. “They’re all dead! Just fucking get here!”

He hangs up with a shaky exhale.

“What do we do, Lex?”

“I don’t know,” I admit.

♥♥♥

“You might need a stitch or two,” a blonde EMT chick says to me while she dabs at the bleeding rip in my arm.

“Just slap a bandage on it,” I grit, peering around her to watch Roman being lifted onto a stretcher. “I’ll live.”

“Sir, we really should—”

“Damn it, just do it!” I yell.

The girl flinches.

“Lex!” Cade snaps, shooting a raw and exhausted look my way.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, lowering my voice. I glance at her ID badge. “Kristin, is it?”

She nods.

“Please, just bandage it the best you can. I’m not leaving.”

Kristin’s hands are a little shaky as she wraps my forearm in a clean, white strip of gauze. I glance back over her shoulder. The EMTs have Roman’s body strapped down and wired up. Monitors screaming warnings that bounce off the walls.

They rush him toward the elevator, but my eyes stay glued on the blood pooling where his desk meets the floor. A slow and steady drip from where he almost bled out in front of us.

The same spot where our girl was taken.

The same spot where Luca stood moments ago when we were downstairs counting down the fifteen minutes we were stupid enough to give her.

The door bursts back open. Tex, Nate, and Knox storm in like a shockwave. Knox freezes first, his face draining of color as he takes in the scene. The shattered glass and overturned furniture. Roman’s blood still drying in dark streaks on my arms.

Tex doesn’t waste a second. “What happened?” he asks, charging toward me.

“We were in the lobby,” I manage. “She… she wanted time alone with him. We shouldn’t have let her.”

This is all your fault.