Her Lucky Number Thirteen (The American Soldier Collection 13)

Her palms landed against the bricks, stopping her face from colliding with the hard, rough surface.

“Let go of me.”

“You’re coming with us,” the other one said. She felt the fear hit her gut. These were men who worked for Scarlapetti. She didn’t run this far and hide this long to get caught now.

“Okay, I’m done. I’m tired of running,” she said as she slowly turned and acted defeated.

The one guy lowered the gun and smirked.

“Easier than expected,” he said to his buddy.

She struck her forearm hard against the man’s throat. He coughed and released her and the other one raised his gun. She kicked it from his hand, using the other guy’s shirt to grip and hold on to. It was a martial arts move she mastered well. The one guy went down hard and the guy she held on to she kicked in the crotch, sending him down to the ground before she turned to run.

Shots were fired from their position on the ground, missing her somehow. She heard yelling in the background, two more shots, and the pain in her side. She reached down and pulled her hand away as she ran. Blood. Oh God, they got me. She was running on pure adrenaline when she ran across the street right through traffic.

Horns honked, people screamed out but she ignored them and continued to run as fast as she could. As she got to the other side she slammed into a car. She hit the hood, rolled over and landed with a thump hard on her shoulder. The side door opened and a man looked at her with evil in his eyes. She rolled, pulled her gun, and shot him. His buddy shot back and she used the door to push against the car then returned fire, killing him. She gripped her side, looked around to be sure no one else was there to shoot her and she took off, and ran as fast as she could.

She needed to get to the trailer, grab her things, and disappear. They’d found her.

She hurried into the trailer after being sure that no one could see her. She climbed through the back window and felt the pain. As she got inside she ran to the bathroom and looked at the damage. A flesh wound, she thought, hands shaking and covered with blood. Thank God. It hurt so badly though and the blood wouldn’t stop. She might need stitches and she couldn’t get any. She couldn’t go to a hospital. She grabbed the washcloth and pressed it against the wound. She knew she needed to leave. She had to get the hell out of there. She would worry about the gunshot later.

Her hands were shaking. They felt numb from pulling the trigger on the gun. She just killed some more men. My God, will I ever be safe?

She grabbed her things and knew she needed to hurry. The night was on her side, her only means of getting out of this town, this state alive.

She grabbed her things from under the bed and made sure she didn’t leave anything behind. She took off out the side door and across the grass. Once again, she was on the run. When would she finally be free?

As she ran toward the wooded area and around the last set of trailers she screamed. Thick hard arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tight. She kicked and screamed and tried to grab her gun. It was removed from her and a heavy body had her on the ground and completely restrained.

“Nalia, you’re safe. You’re safe, baby.”

She locked gazes with Boian. She widened her eyes.

“Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me, Boian. I didn’t kill my father or my mother. They did. Raymond and Vincent did,” she cried and saw four other men all holding guns and standing around them yet watching that no one else was coming.

Boian released her arms. He cupped her cheek. “We know that. Your father is alive, Nalia. We’ve been trying to find you for months. We’re here to protect you,” he told her and she felt the tears fill her eyes.

“He’s alive?” she asked through blurred vision, the tears threatening to spill. She’d held them in for so long.

“Come on. We have to get out of here now.” One of the other men barked an order and they all reacted, even her. Boian pulled her up and she cringed in pain.

“Follow us. The SUV is around the corner.”

She fought to not show weakness. But Boian was there. He came to rescue her, to find her and tell her that her father was alive. Was he lying? She tried slowing down and he pulled her along. He held her around the waist as the adrenaline rush was beginning to leave her body. They got her into the SUV. They all piled in. Five men and her.

She panicked as Boian released her and she grabbed the gun he’d stuck in his waist and she turned it on him. She squatted on the seat ready to shoot and kill.

“I want to talk to my father. I need to know that he’s alive.”

“Calm down and put the gun away, Nalia,” Boian whispered to her, hands in the air.

She shook her head, felt the tears roll down her cheeks. The gun shook in her hands. “No. Don’t tell me what to do. I need to know he is alive and that you’re not lying.”

She glanced at the others, who didn’t seem too concerned at all that she held a gun against Boian’s head. In fact, they looked cold as ice and she felt the trepidation hit her gut. These men could kill her, she just knew it.

“Have I ever lied to you, Nalia?” Boian asked.

“I don’t know these men. None of them. I don’t know you, Boian. It’s been years since I saw you so don’t even try that shit with me. My father gave me orders. Get him on the phone now!” she screamed.