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He didn’t have a chance. The scissors were sharp and slid through his flesh as though it were paper.
Behind me, I could hear Lefty growling with fury as Righty’s blood surged from his neck. I could feel the warm wet liquid spraying me and I quickly pushed off of him, jumping back onto the ground and landing on my feet.
The deafening roar of a gun exploded behind me, and I stilled.
For a moment, I felt nothing. I pressed my hands to my stomach, expecting pain and finding only blood. A numbness passed through my fingers as my ears rang, and I rocked side to side as I fought with the sudden urge to throw up.
I expected death to hurt.
Someone collapsed behind me. I heard the sickening crunch of a skull hitting rock.
“Kitten,” a voice purred.
“Grayson,” I cried, spinning around and praying it wasn’t too late.
I lifted my eyes to see him standing across from me. He looked perfect, his suit immaculate and his eyes glinting with concern.
Was this what it felt like to die? Was I dreaming? Was he even real or was this just a figment of my imagination?
I didn’t dare look away. My heart pounded dangerously loud in my chest, and I whined quietly. My head wouldn’t stop ringing and I couldn’t get a handle on the way air was whizzing in and out of my lungs. Maybe I was hyperventilating.
He took a step toward me and loosened my fingers. Only vaguely aware that I was still holding the bloody scissors in them, I let my weapon fall to the ground. I wanted to get closer to him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to find out he was real.
Shouldn’t I be dead right now? Shouldn’t the bullet wound start to hurt?
I took a step toward him, but he was faster.
“My bride,” he said and at once, his arms surrounded me with their warmth.
“My…” I began, but I really didn’t have the capacity to form words.
“I’d thought I’d lost you,” he whispered. His voice shook with emotion. I pushed back against his chest. I whirled my head around and my head finally stitched together what happened. Lefty was lying there dead on the ground. I’d killed Righty. Lefty must have made a move to shoot me, but Grayson had slain him before he could get a shot off. A quiet keening noise escaped my throat.
This wasn’t a dream. His arms around me weren’t just my imagination.
“You’re real,” I cried.
“Of course I’m real,” he replied, and I threw my arms around his waist. He clutched me tight and warm relief cascaded over me like a tropical rainstorm. For a while, I just enjoyed the feeling of his body against mine before I remembered the danger surrounding us all again.
“We have to get out of here. It’s not safe,” I blurted out.
“It’s been handled. Nemesio and his goons have been taken care of,” he said firmly.
“But…” I began.
“Shh, kitten. I’ve got you. You’re safe now,” he chided, and I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against his chest. He knelt down just enough to slip an arm around my waist. The other slid behind my legs and he lifted me off the ground as if I didn’t weigh anything at all.
“It’s time for us to go,” he whispered.
“Wait. Esmerelda too,” I exclaimed. I lifted my head to see her on the edge of the clearing. “She won’t hurt me.”
Grayson stopped and stared back at her.
“Make a choice. You can come with us, or you can stay here and wait for cartel reinforcements to arrive,” he offered.
Esmerelda didn’t wait for the second option. She jogged toward us and followed us as we walked down the road. The reverberations from a waiting helicopter vibrated through the air and as I looked back at her, she smiled knowingly.
I didn’t have to tell her that this was the man I would have fantasized about if Nemesio had been able to force me to his bed.
