Chapter 24
Naomi
I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe. In an instant, the entire situation had turned upside down, and now I was dealing with the love of my life bleeding out all over the carpet. “Gavril,” I tried again, swallowing the emotion that was built up in my throat. “Please. Tell me what to do.” His face was so unbelievably pale, pain etched into his gorgeous eyes, and I was worried.
No, I was more than worried. I was terrified that he was going to die right here. I had watched him fight the bad guy in my life, my heart in my throat, as I knew that Gavril would come out on top. He was stronger, faster, smarter than Jon could ever be, and the glacier look in his eyes told me that Jon was a dead man even if I hadn’t shot him.
Oh God, I had killed someone! The thought caused my throat to close up before I forced the feeling aside. Jon had deserved it. He had deserved everything he had coming for all the pain, all the hurt, all the killing he had done in his lifetime. When the knife had glimmered in his hand, I had scrambled to get the gun that had fallen on the bed, my hands shaking as I worried about hitting Gavril instead. Jon had been close enough to me, just like Gavril had warned me, and when I realized that Gavril was going to die, I had squeezed the trigger without hesitation.
Jon was dead. I had ended his life, and he wasn’t going to haunt me any longer.
He had, however, attempted to take my husband, the love of my life, away from me, and Gavril could truly die right before me.
I could lose him forever.
He couldn’t die! Gavril was far too strong, and without him, I wouldn’t be able to live. My life wasn’t anything without him, and we had just found each other. “Please,” I begged, looking into his beautiful eyes, glazed with pain. “Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me.”
Gavril shuddered and I brought my free hand up to his face, tapping it lightly to get his attention. My hand left a smear of blood on his cheek, but his eyes did focus on me and he gave me a soft smile. “Tell me what to do,” I said in a stern voice. I couldn’t get him out of this bedroom, not by myself. “Please, my love, don’t do this.”
“It’s going to be all right,” he said, his voice strangely weak. “Don’t cry, Naomi. You know I can’t stand to see your tears.”
I felt like doing much more than that. “Help!” I shouted, doubting that anyone was still in the house, but it was worth a shot. I needed help, and I was too afraid to leave him right now, worried that when I came back, he might be dead. “Help! Please! We need help!”
“Naomi.”
“Please,” I sobbed, my eyes meeting Gavril’s once more. “I can’t lose you, not now.”
Gavril cleared his throat, and my heart plummeted. “I have to tell you.”
I shook my head, tears flowing in earnest again. “No!” I started. “I’m not going to listen to anything you have to say to me, Gavril! You are going to be just fine!” If he started talking like he wasn’t going to make it, I was going to lose everything I had inside me. “Help!” I called again. Wasn’t there some sort of panic button I could hit? I had no idea where a phone was or how to get in touch with anyone that could help. “Gavril,” I gasped as he groaned in pain. “Where is your phone?” He had to have one on him. I hadn’t seen him without it, not once.
“Left pocket,” he whispered, as if he was struggling to form the words now. “Oleg.”
Oleg. Right. I had met him, I believed.
Not that it mattered. I would call the president if it meant I could get some help for Gavril. Pressing one hand to his to keep pressure on the wound, I pulled out his sleek phone and thumbed through his contacts, leaving blood all over the screen until I found Oleg’s name.
Pressing send, I put it on speaker. “Fuck me, man,” a deep voice came on the line. “I mean, Pakhan. What now? Surely there’s not another threat. We killed them all.”
“Help,” I said weakly, cutting off his words. “Please.”
“Who is this?” he demanded, his voice on high alert now.
“This is Naomi,” I cried out. “Gavril is dying, and we need help! Please! I need to get him to a hospital.” The last word came out as a sob, and Gavril’s free hand reached up to grip my arm.
“Fuck,” Oleg breathed. “Where are you?”
“The mansion, upstairs,” I answered, feeling Gavril’s light grip on my hand, as if he was trying to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. Nothing was going to be okay. Gavril was dying, and I felt so helpless to stop it from happening. “He’s been stabbed, and he’s bleeding badly.”
“Keep pressure on the wound,” Oleg replied, the sound of keys jingling in the background. “I will be there in five minutes. Just hang on, Naomi.”
The line went dead and I gulped air to keep from crying out as I turned my attention back to Gavril, who seemed to have grown paler by the moment. “Please don’t die.”
He tried and failed to give me a smile. “I’m sorry, so fucking sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should never have left you.”
I shook my head, thinking of how he could be down there with Vera and Ivan if he had stayed. “Jon killed them,” I forced out, my mind replaying the moments before Vera was killed. “She was trying to protect me.”
“It’s okay,” Gavril said, his hand gripping my arm. “She was doing her job. They all were.”