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With every fiber of my being, I hoped never to encounter another such moment again.
When I saw a man step out of the garage, his gun raised and pointed at me, I froze. Even my lungs contracted, unable to draw in air, and all I could do was stare. The only part of me still capable of movement was my heart. It raced at triple its normal speed, pounding upon my ribcage.
Then, Drago’s huge frame materialized before me. Instead of the gun, my eyes locked on my husband’s broad back.
Bang!
My hand flies to my chest because, for an instant, I’m certain my heart ceased beating, pierced by a bullet at close range. Drago tenses in front of me. The gun slips from his hand and drops to the half-frozen grass at his feet.
Bang!
A scream builds inside me as I watch my husband fall to his knees and slowly start listing forward. The moment stretches, and time stops.
Over the top of Drago’s head, I see the man by the garage throw away his gun and reach into his jacket. Air rushes into my lungs, and with it, absolute calm.
Without thinking, I grip the Glock at my back. I forgot I even had it when the gunman’s sights were aimed at me. Although, at that time, I’m not sure I would have taken it out had I recalled. All doubt is gone now.
The attacker is pulling another weapon from his jacket, swinging the barrel to finish Drago off. His choice. And I make mine.
My hand is steady as I lift my gun, and my breaths are even. I’m scarcely aware of the shouts coming from the driveway, growing louder, getting nearer. In a split second, I aim at the guy’s head and, without a trace of hesitation, pull the trigger.
Bang!
The man jerks backward. A big red hole appears where his left eye had been.
I did that.
I killed him.
I’ve taken a life. And I don’t regret it.
The gun falls from my hand, and then I’m running. To Drago, lying on his side on the cold, dead lawn.
“Baby.” A strangled whisper leaves my lips as I drop down to the grass next to him and carefully roll him to his back.
The front of his shirt is saturated with blood. I grab the sides and tear it open, then press my palms over the two bleeding wounds on his upper chest. Despite my efforts in applying the pressure, the red liquid keeps seeping between my fingers.
There is a touch on my face as Drago’s bloody hand cups my cheek. My gaze snaps up, my eyes lock with his.
“I thought you faint at the sight of blood,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.
Shouts and the sound of running feet are getting closer, but I can’t look away from him.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Drago,” I choke out while tears run down my cheeks. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Hands grab me from behind, pulling me away. Iliya drops down next to Drago, pressing his bundled coat over the wounds on my husband’s torso. He’s blocking my view, and I can’t see Drago’s eyes. I snarl, kicking my legs, trying to get free. I need to have my eyes on his! For some reason, I’m convinced that for as long as I can hold his gaze, I’ll be able to keep him alive.
A car pulls up beside us, and then Filip and Jovan are lifting Drago and laying him on the back seat. I scream. Howl. And bare my teeth. Strong arms hold me back, keeping me in place. A man’s voice says something about me giving them room. I sink my teeth into his forearm, and a metallic taste fills my mouth.
“Jesus!” someone yells. “Let her go, Adam. She can ride in the back with him.”
The moment I’m free, I rush toward the vehicle and climb inside. I kneel on the floor of the back seat and press my palms over Drago’s hands while he’s holding Iliya’s coat to his upper body. My God, there’s so much blood.
“Look at me!” I cry as the car lurches forward.
I’m not sure if he heard me, but his eyelids flutter open, and his green gaze meets mine.
“Good.” I nod. “We’re going to a hospital where they’ll patch you up. And you’re going to keep your eyes open the entire way there.”
