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I think about it for a moment, and then I jerk my head towards the door. “Go now,” I order. “Before I change my mind.”
June inches towards me, but I keep my eyes on Ravil as he moves towards the door. We’re locked in a dance, matching each other step for step. Him toward freedom. Me toward her.
And then Ravil decides to improvise.
He’s about to disappear through the door when his hand lifts. “NO!” June screams, a split second before two shots fire.
My gun and his.
I feel her slam into my side in an effort to take the bullet that was meant for me. I hear her scream in my ear, and the next thing I know, I’m on the floor, with June’s body half covering mine. The wet heat of blood blooms between us.
I release my gun and wrap my arms around June, gripping her tightly. From the heavy sound of her breathing, I know she’s in pain.
“June,” I breathe. “June.”
“It’s okay,” she says, but her voice is weak. “I’m okay.”
I twist our bodies around, placing her gently on the carpet. Her eyes are wide and fixed on me. She’s conscious and alert. I scan her body and notice the blood on her right arm.
The bullet has sliced past the inside of her bicep. It’s a flesh wound, nothing more. I exhale with relief.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I demand, relief giving way to anger. “You could have been killed!”
I can see Ravil’s body in my peripheral vision, but I ignore him. He’s not moving, and his gun is lying on the floor out of his reach.
She smiles faintly at me from the ground. “Is that your way of saying thank you?”
“Ravil’s always been a lousy shot. I was never in any danger.” I bend down and kiss her hard on the lips. When I pull back, I cup her face. “I need to stop the bleeding. Can you sit up for me?”
“What about Ravil?”
I glance back over my shoulder at his body. I got him through the chest. His frozen eyes are fixed on me with vindictive malice that he’ll never be able to act on now.
“Dead.”
That seems to give her the strength she needs. She grips my arm and I pull her to a sitting position. Then I hoist her into my arms and carry her over to the bed.
“Does it hurt?”
“Only a little,” she says bravely.
I’ve never been more proud of her. Maybe that’s why I don’t think as I tear off my shirt to make a tourniquet for her. I wrap it tightly around her wound, and when I’m done, she sags with relief.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “Sara will take care of that wound properly the moment we’re back home.”
The door opens abruptly and thumps into Ravil’s body in the process. Then Milana steps through, her eyes going straight to Ravil before she finds June and me.
“Guess I came to the party late.” She jumps over Ravil’s corpse and is followed inside by another dozen of my men, all armed to the teeth. “June? Are you okay?”
“Got my first bullet wound,” June says, sounding surprisingly chipper. “Does that conclude my initiation? Am I Bratva now?”
Milana smiles and shakes her head. “As good as.” She turns to face me. “Orders, Don Uvarov?”
I stand tall to survey my men. “Get his body out of here. He’ll get a funeral for the sake of his last name. The other dead will be cremated. Bring a car around immediately. I need to get June home to see Dr. Calloway.”
Milana nods and heads out to see to things, while two of my men grab hold of Ravil’s body and haul him out. I turn to June, ready to carry her downstairs, but one look at the expression on her face has me freezing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
