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I don’t even have my phone to call Adrian or at least use it as a flashlight.
A groan comes from Yan and I feel in front of me until I catch something warm. His hand. Thank God it’s his hand and not another organ.
“Yan! Open your eyes.”
There’s no response, and when I touch his shoulder, I can feel the blood still oozing. If I don’t do something, he’ll undoubtedly die.
I strain to place him on his stomach, then I crouch in front of him, hook his good arm around my neck and grab the hem of his jacket with my other hand.
Standing up, I attempt to carry him. He’s heavier, taller, and bulkier than me, so that mission is an epic fail from the start. But I don’t let go of him, even when his entire weight falls on me.
I don’t stop.
I kick my heels off and walk barefoot to improve my balance. Pebbles dig into the soles of my feet like tiny needles. At first, I feel like my back will be broken into two, but after a few steps, an adrenaline wave rushes through my limbs.
I recall those times when I spent all-nighters in the studio, dancing and torturing my feet. I practiced again and again to perfect my posture, my technique, and my performance. If I could survive that, I can survive this. Because there’s no way in hell I’d leave Yan behind. He took those bullets for me. He’s dying because ofme.
The night is calm and dark. There isn’t even a moon to help give me direction. A chill covers me from head to toe and my muscles scream in pain.
I walk for so long that I start losing feeling in my feet. I need to find a place to call for help, and I need to find it soon.
My toes touch a solid surface and I smile, even as I strain to hold him up. “I found a road, Yan. I’m going to get us to safety.”
He doesn’t release a sound. His pulse under my fingers is becoming weaker, his body heavier.
“Come on. Stay with me, Yan.”
Headlights shine in the distance and I attempt to make it to the road. I halt mid-step, jerking back when the car speeds past us. Fuck. That was close. If I had been on the road, it would’ve hit us.
The car stops up ahead, its red lights shining before it reverses at full speed, stopping right in front of us.
I nearly cry with joy when the passenger door opens and Adrian barges out. I stare up at his tightened features and his drawn gun. At the way he looks like a warlord ready to start a battle—and win it.
He found us.
No clue how he managed to do it so fast, but I’m so glad that he’s here. He grabs me by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”
I manage a slight nod, then motion at Yan. “He was shot. Twice. Help him.”
The words aren’t fully out before Kolya takes Yan from me and carries him. I don’t sag in relief that his weight is gone, though. If anything, my fingers shake as pessimistic thoughts rush in. At least when he was leaning on my back, I could feel his heartbeat, as low as it was, and tell myself he was alive. Now, it feels like he’s closer to death than life.
A second car stops behind this one and Kolya carefully places Yan inside.
“Lia.”
“What?” I answer absentmindedly, still watching Yan’s lifeless body.
“Lia!”
“What?” I snap at Adrian.
He’s wiping under my eyes. I taste salt and that’s when I realize I’ve been crying. For how long, I have no idea, but it’s been long enough that I’m sniffling and shaking.
Adrian checks my hands, my dress, and my coat.
“It’s not mine. It’s Yan’s,” I say to explain the blood.
Adrian’s thumb swipes under my cheek and I wince as he touches my cut lip. “Where’s the fucker who did this?”
