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Damon was less diplomatic. “How the fuck did you miss him? He’s like a gargantuan bear with a target on his back.”
His brother, aka the other damn demon spawn, looked impressed. “Nice. I’ve been wrecking my brain about how to use that word all day.”
My woman was getting shot at, and Damon had decided this was the appropriate time to use his word of the day? I was going to fucking bash his head in.
He pointed two fingers to his eyes, frowned, and shook his head, indicating I was blind.
“Fuck you all,” I growled, before I took aim again, and shot one who had almost reached us.
Finally. They were all dead. If I hadn’t felt like I was about to topple over from exhaustion, I would’ve done a damn victory dance over the fresh corpses. That’s how pissed off I was.
I sat heavily onto a log and studied the bodies.
“Cartel?” I asked Damon, wondering when the hell we’d managed to get into a war with them.
He shook his head. “Looks like Koreans.”
Ah, the deal that didn’t go through. “Guess you were right not to trust them as new partners.” We didn’t deal with amateurs. Trying to off your potential weapons supplier and failing at it miserably, was the epitome of not being a professional. Considering the fact that they’d shot at me whileI was with my wife, they were about to learn how to conduct business the Romanov Bratva way.
Damon already grabbed an ax. “You want to send a piece of one of these to their boss? A hand? A head maybe?”
Very tempting. “Fingers. Collect their middle fingers.”
He grinned. “And then what?”
“You know what. We go to fucking war.”
Someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned around to see Katya with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. She threw me a challenging look.
I coughed. “I think I’m coming down with something.”
***
KATYA
We didn’t make it back home that night. I was too shaken up to get back into a car, and I still wanted to see the baby horse. So, after dinner with the twins, we stayed the night in their guest house, behind the barn. It was like a mountain lodge, with an open floor plan and a cozy fireplace.
I put some lotion on my hands before getting into bed in nothing more than my panties. I was happy to see Kristoff was still asleep. It had taken some convincing and pleading to get him in bed before midnight. The man was a night owl on the best of days, and even then he only got about five hours of sleep every night.
I’d heard about when men got sick, it was as if the world was ending. With Kristoff, it was more like he wanted to terminate some other men’s world. I couldn’t believe the way our day had ended. All I wanted was to drift off to sleep and forget about it.
The thrashing started when I had almost drifted off.
“Oksana…”
I stiffened when I heard him mention another woman’s name. Then I remembered he’d told me about her. She was a nurse who had patched him up during his stay in Siberia.
“Everything’s red,” he growled. “Can’t get it off. Get it the fuck off.”
I wanted to cry and yell on his behalf. Since that wasn’t an option, I leaned away from him and carefully shook him until he woke. I’d heard about not standing too close to someone who was having a nightmare, or perhaps in this case, one that was the result of PTSD. The last thing I wanted was for Kristoff to lash out at me in his dream, unaware of what he was doing and then feeling devastated about it.
His ragged breathing filled the room. He sat up straight and closed his eyes when he rested against the headboard.
I inched to his side. “I’m here,” I said softly, holding him close.
“Forever,” he said, a command in his voice which made me smile.
“Forever,” I vowed.
