Claim

“What the fuck?” Lyon roared when Alek appeared at his side.

“She would only go if I helped you,” Alek said. He raised his weapon and fired at an advancing figure, caught him in the thigh and watched him go down. “You can kill me later if you want, but right now we have work to do.”

Lyon cursed and advanced across the lawn. His men were doing a good job of creating a line of protection between Vadim’s men and the house, but it was cold comfort. There were too many invaders, and all it took was one to break the line. Then, Kira and all the women and children would be at risk.

“You shouldn’t be here!” Alek shouted at him over the shooting. “Let me get you and Kira out.”

“I’m not leaving these men to fight and die for me,” Lyon said.

And they would die. As Vadim’s men got closer, he saw that they weren’t just fighting with guns: they were using hand-to-hand combat.

Vympel, Lyon thought.

These men weren’t just street thugs. They were soldiers.

He spotted Borya to his left and watched as Annie’s brother took a brutal punch to the kidney. He went down, and his opponent raised his weapon to fire into Borya’s chest.

* * *

Kira started for the house. She would use her gun to help protect the people inside if any of Vadim’s men got through the line holding them back.

She was halfway to the terrace when she spotted a figure break through the trees at the edge of the fight. She waited, willing one of Lyon’s men to spot him, but they were all fighting for their lives — and for the lives of their women and children.

She was exposed, standing in the middle of the lawn and trying to figure out what to do, when the man caught sight of her.

His footsteps slowed, and she had a moment of hope that she’d read the situation wrong. Maybe he wasn’t one of Vadim’s men after all. Then he zeroed in on her and picked up his pace, coming right for her, a vicious looking semiautomatic weapon hanging casually from his right hand.

She considered her options. She couldn’t run for the house. She would be leading the man right to the bratva families hiding inside.

She ran for the bar instead, hoping to draw the man away from them.

* * *

Lyon raised his weapon at the man pointing his gun at Borya and fired first. It caught the man in his shoulder, and he stumbled as the gun discharged. Borya went down, but the bullet hit his thigh instead of his chest.

Lyon fired again, and Borya’s opponent fell, a hole opening up in his forehead.

Lyon rushed to Borya and shouted to be heard over the gunfire. “Are you alright?”

Borya grimaced up at him. “It’s nothing. Go. I’m right behind you.”

Lyon looked up to see Alek give a hand signal to the men. A split second later, they moved in unison, changing direction and starting toward Lyon and Alek on the lawn, creating a line in front of Lyon.

They were closing ranks, protecting him when he’d come to help them fight.

It was what they were trained to do, but now Lyon didn’t want it. He didn’t want to stand behind them while they risked their lives to keep him safe.

He wanted to fight with them.

He hurried forward without waiting for the men to reach him, Alek screaming his name at his back.