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Davit.
I was so relieved that tears started to burn at the back of my eyes.
He had the man in a chokehold, and he was squeezing tight. The man was swatting at his forearm, fighting to get reprieve.
From what I could see, there would be none.
I realized that only seconds ago I had been in a similar position but refused to allow myself to think about that.
“Are you okay?” Davit said as he still held the man.
His voice was eerily calm, but I latched onto that calm, trying to mirror it.
“Yes,” I said.
“Good.”
“Who sent you?” he asked, his attention on the man now.
He struggled against Davit’s hold but didn’t answer.
Davit tightened his arm, so much so that I could see the muscles in his forearm and biceps bulging.
“Who sent you?” he asked again, his voice still calm.
The man didn’t answer.
In fact, he went still.
I thought he had run out of oxygen, but all of a sudden, he moved, reached for a shard of glass that lay next to him.
“Davit!”
Davit reacted, twisting the other man’s wrist hard, so much so that his fingers slackened and released the glass.
Davit snarled, literally snarled, and then unleashed a series of punches that made the man grunt. The last punch had his neck snapping back hard, and then he slumped down, unconscious.
Still, though I knew he was unconscious, I stared at him, unable to turn my eyes away, certain that at any moment he would lunge at me again, press me down, deprive me of precious breath…
“Amethyst?”
Davit’s voice made me blink. I looked at him and looked back at the man.
I felt my knees getting weak, and in the next moment, everything went dark.
