Page 7 of Hate to Love You

I turn just in time to see she’s grabbed Igor’s gun from off his belt, and is pointing it at me. Before I can even raise my own, I hear the shot ring out.

But Pasha shoves me out of the way just in time.

The two of us tumble to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” I shout.

Another shot rings out as she fires again at Igor, and then at Oleg, and then at Calvin, all of them scrambling to find cover.

“Argh!” I hear Pasha cry, grabbing his shoulder. “Fuck!”

He rolls over on his back, bright red blood pouring out all over the floor and wall.

Pasha. She just shot Pasha.

I gave her mercy, and she shot my little brother.

Fuck this bitch!

And just like that, all my mercy evaporates.

I point my gun and fire a bullet straight into the bitch’s forehead. Her head explodes all over the back of the blue armchair and her body slumps limply against the fabric.

The entire room goes silent for a moment, followed only by Pasha’s heavy breathing.

“You’re alright,” I say, frantically grabbing his arm and checking the wound.

I can see the bullet’s entrance, but not its exit, meaning it’s likely still lodged in his shoulder.

“Motherfucker, that hurts,” he winces.

“Cal start the car!” I shout, helping Pasha to his feet. “And someone get me some fucking rags!”

“Is it…bad?” he asks, gasping hard. “Oh shit. It feels bad.”

“Bullets never feel good,” I say, yanking off my jacket and wrapping it around his shoulders.

I doubt anyone heard any of this commotion, but just in case I don’t want them to see a bleeding man exiting the townhouse. We make it to the car, where I help him inside before running around to the other side and getting in.

Calvin walks quickly out to the car with a few towels and tosses one to me.

“Doctor Avery lives six blocks away,” I say to him.

“The vet?” Pasha asks sarcastically, wincing. “Wow, Ro, thanks.”

“Shut up. I trust her with Caesar, I can trust her with you. Besides, she’s close. Cal, if she doesn’t answer on the second ring, text her 505. She’ll know what it means.”

“And if she doesn’t answer your text, Boss?”

“Then I’ll bust down her fucking front door.”

“Ahh shit,” Pasha winces. “That really fucking hurts, man. Am I going to die?”

I snort.

“I’m not that lucky,” I tease. “But you’re probably going to have a scar. So, I guess that just means you’ll have to stop taking all those shirtless pictures for your lady friends.”

He snorts.