Page 21 of When He Lies
Right. In. Front. Of. Her.
Alexei hit the floor of the stables with a resounding thump. Her breath heaved. Her hands fisted.
Ryan stepped over the fallen man. Technically, Ryan kicked him first, then stepped over Alexei’s body. Ryan reached out to her. With a careful grip, he caught her chin and tipped back her head. “The bastard cut you.” Low, lethal words.
A shiver skated over her at the murderous look in his eyes. Um, where had the playboy billionaire gone? “Barely feel it,” she mumbled. Her gaze dropped to the floor. To Alexei. Just as he swung out with his knife toward Ryan because Alexei was not unconscious. He was slicing right toward Ryan’s Achilles tendon. “No!” Simone bellowed even as she grabbed for Ryan and attempted to toss him to the side.
Her toss didn’t happen. She was the one who got thrown. Ryan threw her even as he avoided the slice from Alexei. She hit the stable floor—which kinda felt rubbery beneath the spread straw—and shoved up to her knees even as Alexei leapt at Ryan in a brutal attack. The two men collided. Fists—and the blade of that knife—went flying. Terrified that Ryan was about to get his ass kicked, she lunged up and scrambled to find a weapon so she could help him.
Except she didn’t get far. Alexei had broken free of Ryan and surged toward her. Alexei’s beefy fingers curled around her ankle, and he brought her down, hard. All of the air left her in a whoosh even as he was flipping her over and bringing that knife of his swinging toward her face.
“No!” Ryan ripped the knife from Alexei’s fingers. In a lightning-fast move.
Alexei turned toward Ryan.
“Come at me, you prick! Me, not her!” Then Ryan kicked Alexei in the face.
Oh, that brutal kick had to hurt. She shot away from the men. Weapon, weapon, weapon. She needed a weapon so that she could help Ryan. What kind of weapon could she find in the stables? Where and what kind and—there. A pitchfork. Against a stall with a terrified horse.
“Nice horse. Nice,” she soothed as she grabbed the pitchfork. “Do not stampede at me.” The pitchfork was heavier than she expected because this was the first time in her entire life that she’d ever held an actual pitchfork. She spun back around and hurried toward the fighting men.
Only they weren’t fighting any longer.
Alexei was down. Flat on his back. Blood poured from his neck and a knife hilt protruded from his chest. Sure looked to her like that knife blade had been buried in his heart.
Ryan glared down at the fallen figure. “You really thought you’d cut her fingers off? Slice her throat? While I was right here?”
She squeaked. Then clamped her lips shut when Ryan’s head turned and his gaze immediately pinned her.
Nausea rolled in her stomach. There was an awful lot of blood on Alexei’s body. And around his body. And on Ryan.
Blood and gore had never been her scene.
Meanwhile Ryan was staring at her like…like…
Ice cold eyes. Handsome face locked in lines of savage intent. Hands fisted.
So. Much. Blood. That blood had sprayed across his tux coat. “Um, you’ve got a little…” A really hard swallow. “Something on you.”
His gaze went even colder. He ripped off the coat and tossed it onto the floor, next to Alexei. An unmoving Alexei.
Now would he just toss away the tux coat if it truly had a thirty-million-dollar egg in one of its pockets? She did not think so. But she did think he had the egg. Somewhere on him.
She’d get back to the egg in a bit. For the moment, she should probably do something to address the man with the knife in his chest.
“We should help him,” Simone decided. Why was her voice so squeaky? She was never ever squeaky.
“He’s past the point of help.”
Was he? Probably. But maybe they should still try?
“Are you going to stab me with that thing, Simone?”
His sharp voice had her glancing at her weapon and realizing that she did have it pointed at him. She immediately tossed down the pitchfork. “I was coming to save you with it.”
“I don’t need saving.”
“I did not know that at the time.” She should reevaluate. They were free. Alexei was dead. Reinforcements were coming, and she needed to get the hell out of there. “We should run. You go that way.” She pointed vaguely to the right. “And I’ll go this way.” To the left. “Stay safe. And let’s never speak of this again.” With those words, Simone took off.
