Then Lev's body jerks. A spray of blood hits my cheek.
He's hit in the shoulder. The force spins him. He stumbles but doesn't drop the gun. He switches hands, raising the weapon again. He refuses to go down.
"Run, Helena!" he screams.
Bang.
A second shot hits him in the thigh.
Lev's leg buckles. He hits the ground hard. His gun skitters away, out of reach.
"No!" I scream. I lunge for him. "Lev!"
He looks up. His face is gray. Blood pours from his shoulder and leg. He's wheezing.
"Go..." he gasps.
Four men surround us. Weapons are lowered.
One of them steps forward and kicks Lev in the face.
Lev's head snaps back, hitting the asphalt. He groans. His eyes roll back but stay open. He’s awake, watching, but he can't move.
"Don't touch him!" I scream, throwing myself over Lev. "Stop it! Leave him alone!"
Strong hands grab me. Rough gloves dig into my arms.
"Secure the package," a deep voice says. "Leave the driver. Let him bleed."
They rip me away from Lev. I thrash, kicking out.
"No! Let me go!"
A canvas hood is jammed over my head, plunging me into darkness. Zip ties bite into my wrists, cutting off the circulation. I’m lifted off my feet and tossed into the back of a van.
The doors slam shut, an engine roars, and we’re gone.
I don't know how long the van drives. Hours? Minutes? The darkness inside the hood is suffocating. I smell diesel and the blood on my cheek—the price my men paid.
Finally, the van stops.
I’m dragged out.
My legs are numb. I stumble, but rough hands hold me up. I hear the echo of a large space, a warehouse, maybe.
I'm pushed into a chair. Someone cuts the zip ties on my ankles but leaves my hands bound behind me. Then, the hood is ripped off.
I gasp, blinking against the harsh overhead light. The world comes back in jagged pulses. My head throbs.
"Helena?"
The voice pulls me out of the void. I snap my head up, agony spiking through my skull.
Standing a few feet away, adjusting his tie in a mirror, is my father.
He looks pristine. No bruises. No blood. His suit is pressed.
The hope I didn't know I was still holding onto dies. I stare at him in disbelief at first, followed by a rush of sheer rage.
