Page 8 of Savage Don

“No,” she says.

I close my eyes briefly.

Good. Good.

Then I remember the car.

My eyes open again. “Where is it?” I ask.

Kirill looks over his shoulder.

Men are running toward the gates.

Security personnel are shouting.

One of the guards is speaking rapidly into a radio.

The sedan is gone. But I know one thing for certain. It just tried to kill a little girl.

2

ELARA

I stare at the empty curve. “It left?”

Kirill's jaw hardens. “Yes,” he says.

“How?” I ask.

“We are handling it,” Kirill says.

I look at him. “We are handling it,” I repeat.

“Yes,” Kirill says.

“That’s what people say before the opening credits of a crime documentary,” I say.

His eyes narrow slightly. Then Anya grabs my hand. Her fingers are shaking.

“Elle, you’re bleeding,” Anya says.

I lift my free hand toward my temple.

Kirill catches my wrist before I can touch it. “Don’t.”

“Do I still have a forehead?” I ask.

“Yes,” Kirill says.

“Excellent,” I say.

Blood runs warm beside my eyebrow. I can feel it reaching my cheek.

Wonderful.

A woman from the school crouches a few feet away.

“We’ve called emergency services,” she says.