Two men are dragging her toward a back exit. Her feet barely touch the ground as she struggles against their grip. Her dress is torn. Blood mats her hair. One eye is swelling shut. But she’s fighting them. Kicking. Scratching. Refusing to go quietly.
That’s my girl.
The rage that fills me is absolute. It consumes everything else—pain, fear, reason—and leaves only the need to destroy anyone who dared to touch her.
I raise my gun and fire. The first man’s head snaps back. The second barely has time to turn before my second bullet finds him, too.
Kirsten collapses when they release her. I’m at her side in an instant, gathering her into my arms, checking her for injuries while simultaneously scanning for more threats.
“Menlow.” She reaches up and touches my face with trembling fingers. Her palm comes away bloody. Mine, not hers. “You found me.”
I pull her closer, ignoring the agony in my side, the blood soaking through my shirt. “I will always find you.”
Pavel catches up to us, breathing hard but uninjured. His gun is still raised, covering the exits. He takes one look at Kirsten and his face goes pale.
“How bad?”
“I don’t know yet.” I turn back to her, brushing the blood-matted hair from her face. “Kirsten, where are you hurt? Talk to me.”
Her eyes flutter. She’s fading, consciousness slipping away despite her efforts to hold on. I can see her fighting it, trying to stay present, but her body has taken too much damage.
“Head hurts,” she mumbles. “Everything hurts.”
“I know, baby. I know.” I press my forehead to hers. “Just stay with me. Keep your eyes open.”
“Tired.”
“I know you’re tired. But you can’t sleep yet. Not yet.”
Pavel is already on his phone. “Alexei, we need a medical team at my location. Warehouse on Fifth and Harbor. Multiple casualties, including Kirsten. She’s alive but injured.” A pause. “No, we can’t take her to a regular hospital. Too many questions.” Another pause. “Good. We’ll be ready.”
He ends the call and kneels beside us.
“Alexei’s contact is ten minutes out. They’re sending a private ambulance. They’ll take her to the safe clinic.”
I nod without looking up. All my attention is on Kirsten. On the shallow rise and fall of her chest. On the flutter of her pulse beneath my fingertips.
“Stay with me,” I beg her as I scoop her up and carry her toward the exit. She’s too light in my arms. Too still. “Kirsten, please. Stay with me.”
Chapter 21 - Kirsten
I wake up to the smell of antiseptic and the sound of Menlow breathing beside me.
For a long moment, I don’t move. I just lie there with my eyes closed, taking stock of the aches in my body. My head throbs. My ribs protest every breath. Something pulls at my arm when I try to move it, and I realize there’s an IV attached.
“You’re awake.”
I open my eyes to find Menlow sitting in a chair next to my bed, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. Bruises mottle his face. A bandage wraps around his head. His right arm is in a sling.
“You look terrible,” I croak.
“You should see the other guys.”
“I did see them. You shot them.”
“I did.” He doesn’t sound sorry about it. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
