Sergei’s brain splatters all over the white wall. The cup drops from his hand, spilling coffee on the tile. Sergei collapses.
The nurse screams at the top of her lungs.
I join her in screaming and jump out of bed. My IV rips from my arm, and blood gushes out of my vein. I press my hand on my arm to stop the bleeding and try to rush out of the room, but men in suits, along with uniformed cops, push inside. They’re dead on arrival. Taken down like bowling pins.
A pile of men blocks my path. Even if I could move (which I can’t because I’m frozen in terror), they’re in my way. Trapped, I simply stand there, whimpering.
A sniper is targeting the people in the room. A professional sniper. A man who would know how to use the rifle I got busted with. I shouldn’t be afraid because I know he won’t hurt me, but to witness Declan Crossbow’s work makes me want to release my bladder down my legs.
On the floor, by the window, my nurse is curled up in a ball. My brain kicks in. I have to get us to a safe place so Declan can do what Crossbows do best: destroy their enemy.
Chapter 37
This is great work
Dina
The men outside the room are trying to get to Ekatia and me, but Declan is taking them out with his sniper rifle as I drag the nurse to the bathroom. I help her prop herself up against the wall.
“Are you hurt?” I ask.
She stares ahead, clearly in shock.
I can’t see anything wrong with her when I crouch beside her. My head starts pounding again and my arm hurts from when I tore out my IV, but the adrenaline coursing through me makes all the pain bearable.
Besides, I need to function. I need to do this for Declan and Connor and my daughter, who needs a mother, even though she’s fully grown.
I can’t give up yet. Not now, when Sergei is dead. Instantly, the shame of how good it feels to be rid of him makes me feel sorry for him. Ah, we’re complex creatures, I tell you.
“What room number ishein?”
Vacant green eyes stare through me.
I shake her by her shoulders. “What room number?” I shout over the noise. “Ekatia, please.”
She blinks. “That’s not my name.”
Bullets rain inside the hospital room. The window shatters, and shards of glass explode. Barefoot and on my knees, I hug the pregnant nurse in case any glass fragments reach the bathroom. We’re behind a wall, so we’re safe.
Outside, explosive gunfire sounds like a warzone. I need that room number from her. I wet a towel and press it over the nurse’s cheek while peering outside. A sleek black helicopter is approaching from a distance. Sprinklers go off, and sirens in the hospital follow. It’s chaos out here, absolute chaos.
“Look at me.” I try to make eye contact with her again. “You’re going to be okay. Tell me the room number, and I promise you the Crossbow twins will be in your debt. If you need a favor, I’ll make sure they know you helped them. Money? You want money? They’re loaded. What is the room number?”
“Ten twenty-three,” she whispers and breaks into tears.
Poor thing. I hug her some more. “Ten twenty-three?”
“Yes,” she cries harder.
I get up and look around for something to write with. “Ten twenty-three. Ten twenty-three. Ten two three.” I keep repeating the number because I’m thirty-seven and sometimes I walk into my kitchen with no fucking clue why I’m there until I get back to the bedroom and remember I needed to get a bucket of ice cream for a snack and a movie in bed.
I turn about the bathroom, trying to figure out how I’ll let Declan know where his brother is before the chief of police comes for me. There’s a lipstick in my purse, but I don’t know where my purse is.
Blood trickles from the open vein in my arm and coats my fingers. I step out and use two fingers to write on the wall.
1023
The helicopter hovering near the widow is turned sideways so I can see a man in black tactical gear pointing a rifle at me. When he looks up, I recognize him even though he’s wearing a mask over his mouth and nose. Those eyes are unmistakable.
