We reach the hut and he presses me against the back wall, his body shielding mine as he scans the area with cold, calculating eyes.
“Everything will be fine,” Kirill says, voice low and steady despite the danger. “As long as you follow me exactly. Do you understand?”
I nod frantically, tears pricking my eyes. “Listen, I know this place. There’s an exit from the park across from the hut on the other side of those trees. We should run there.”
Kirill glances that way, assessing. “No. You run, I’ll provide cover. I’m going to make a break to the opposite side and draw their fire. You run for the exit. Do not stop. Do not look back. Get back to the café where Bobby is and tell him what’s happening.”
My hands clutch at his shirt. “Daddy?—"
He cuts me off with a fierce, quick kiss, hard and possessive, like he’s pouring everything he can’t say into it. When he pulls back, his eyes are blazing.
“Promise me you’ll be okay,” I whisper, voice breaking.
Kirill nods once, jaw set, teeth gritted. “On three.”
I take a deep, shaky breath, every muscle coiled and ready.
“One… two…three!”
Kirill explodes out from behind the hut, sprinting hard in the opposite direction. Almost immediately I hear two more gunshots—sharp cracks that make me flinch—but I don’t look back. I run, just like Daddy told me too.
My legs pump as fast as they can, grass flying beneath my feet. I dodge between trees, heart slamming against my ribs, terror making everything feel too bright and too loud.
I don’t stop.
I don’t slow down.
I burst out of the park exit and sprint the short distance back to the café, lungs burning.
The moment I push through the door, Skeet spots me and rushes forward, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“Teddy! What happened?” Skeet cries. “You look terrified!”
Bobby is right behind him, eyes wide and alert. “Where’s Uncle Kirill?”
I’m shaking so hard I can barely speak at first. Skeet guides me to a chair while Bobby grabs me a glass of water. Between ragged breaths, I manage to get the words out.
“Shots… in the park. Someone was shooting at us. Kirill… he told me to run. He drew their fire so I could get away. He said to tell you, Bobby.”
Bobby’s face hardens with determination, but I can see the worry flickering beneath it. He pulls out his phone immediately.
Skeet keeps his arms around me, rubbing my back. “You’re safe now. You’re here. Breathe, okay?”
I nod, clutching the water glass with trembling hands, the adrenaline still surging through me.
Kirill is out there.
And I have no idea if he’s okay.
All I can do is wait and pray that the man who just risked everything to protect me makes it back to me in one piece…
* * *
The three of us burst through my apartment door in a rush of adrenaline and fear. Skeet locks it behind us immediately, sliding the deadbolt with shaky hands. Bobby moves with surprising calm, already pulling out his phone as he heads toward the window to peek through the blinds.
“Try and relax,” Bobby says, here eyes flicking between his phone and outside.
I sink onto the couch, legs finally giving out. My heart is still hammering so hard it feels like it might burst. The image of Kirill sprinting away to draw the gunfire keeps flashing behind my eyes—his broad back, his strong legs pumping, the way he didn’t even hesitate.
