He held me hard against his chest, steady enough that I couldn’t slip.
His shoulder blocked my view of Gennady. His arm held my knees so I couldn’t fall. His coat smelled like cold wool, leather, and smoke. My cheek brushed his lapel, and beneath it his heartbeat stayed slow.
“Put me down,” I said, but it came out weak.
“No.”
“Petya—”
“Not here.”
“I have to—”
“Breathe first. Fight me after.”
I would have hated him for that if I’d had the strength.
Behind us, Gennady shouted my name.
The stranger’s arms tightened once.
I felt the shift in him, the violent answer he wanted to give but didn’t stop to spend.
He kept moving.
A side door opened ahead of us. One of his men shoved it wide, and cold service light spilled over white walls and gray flooring. The music from the room cut off as the door slammed behind us. Men’s voices turned muffled and furious on the other side.
The hallway moved too fast.
White walls. Security camera. Exit sign. The black sleeve across my knees. My own bare toes pale below the hem of the coat. A smear of blood on the stranger’s hand where he held me.
My stomach rolled.
I swallowed hard.
The stranger looked down. “Are you going to be sick?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me if you are.”
“Why? So you can schedule it?”
His mouth almost changed. It vanished before it became a smile.
Good. I could still be angry. Angry meant awake.
Then the floor tilted even though he was the one carrying me.
I hadn’t eaten. I’d barely slept. I’d stood in silk under lights while Gennady turned my sacrifice into a trap. I’d watched a room full of men put a price on my body and another man break the room open before that price could be collected.
The hallway narrowed.
The stranger’s face blurred above me.
I blinked hard and saw the cut near his jaw, the dark hair, the cold gray eyes no longer on Gennady but on me.
“Stay with me,” he said.
