“You’ll see,” I whispered to her through the darkness. “You’re mine.”
I detached the parachute a few yards above the ground, did a tuck and roll, and disappeared into the night.
36
LACHLAN
Before I could processwhy my woman stumbled, she collapsed into her bodyguard’s arms. My body locked, rigid.
The elevator doors started to slide shut, and instinct snapped me back online.
Borya was touching her. Friggentouchingher.
“Hey!” I took off in a sprint. The exhaustion from handing the Angels their arses got burned away by fury.
I tore through my family, vaulted over a low burning hearth, and drove my shoulder into Borya’s ribs. The impact rattled my bones, but I’d done enough—Natasha tumbled free, hitting the floor.
Unresponsive. She didn’t stir. My heart seized. What had the bastard given her?
Borya snarled and swung. I had to get closer to Natasha to find out what was wrong.
Behind me, chaos erupted. Mam slammed a bottle over a Russian’s head. Leith and Camdyn pinned another man, while Little Brody drove punches into the bastard’s gut. I kept at Borya, fighting him, though inside I knew I needed to detain him. Arrested or given to his boss for retribution.
But he flew over the side of the building.
I stumbled to the edge of the building, panting, and blinked at the rope swinging against the neon sign. He’d clipped in and launched himself like a bloody phantom.
“Crivvens!” I muttered in Scots. “Didnaeexpect that.”
I dropped back to Natasha, gathering her in my arms. Tears burned hot and blurred my sight. “Tash, babe, please,” my voice cracked. “Wake up.”
Her head lolled, lifeless. I sank to my knees and clutched her tight.
Everything slowed around me.
The Russians. My clan—all my brothers in a fight, except for Jamie, who was nowhere around. The battle froze mid-blow.
“What did he give her!” The growl tore from me, grave and raw.
Eyes wide, a Russian pointed to Rory, who swiped his bloody nose, fist raw and pink.My own brother?
“Natasha …” Rory gasped. “She was fine when I walked away.”
“You gave her that shot,” another Russian thug accused.
“But—”
“Not my brother,” I snarled, rising with Natasha limp in my arms. I was getting her out of here. Now.
The Russians shifted, flanking together to block my exit.
“Areyoua Resnov?” I snapped at the one with his chin up, my voice dark with the command.
“Nyet. I work for Mr. Resnov. He will not be happy about this.” His hand twitched toward his blazer.
My da’s steak knife snaked toward his neck.
“Phone,” the Russian said quickly.
