Chapter 4 - Under Fire
The winter air bit sharply at Clara's face as she struggled against the heavy, calloused hand clamped over her mouth.
Her injured shoulder screamed in agony as her captor dragged her rough through the thick pine trees bordering the edge of the Vance estate. The man was large, wearing a black tactical jacket and a mask that hid everything but his cold, pale eyes.
"Stop struggling, you little bitch, or I'll put a bullet in your other shoulder," the man hissed in a thick Russian accent.
Clara gasped for air as he briefly loosened his grip to haul her over a low stone wall. She knew she had to fight. If they got her into a vehicle, she would never be seen again.
Using all the strength she had left, Clara slammed her right heel down onto the man’s instep. He grunted in pain, his grip loosening just enough for Clara to wrench herself free. She fell to the damp ground, rolling onto her side, her breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps.
"You think you're clever?" the Russian snarled, drawing a silenced pistol from his holster.
Before he could aim, a deafening crack shattered the quiet of the woods.
The Russian’s head snapped back as a bullet struck him forehead-first. He collapsed into the dirt like a puppet with its strings cut.
Clara screamed, scrambling backward against the stone wall.
Through the thick fog and the shadows of the pine trees, Julian Vance emerged. He looked like a demon of vengeance, his eyes blazing with a terrifying, primal fury. He held his gun steady, his chest heaving as he scanned the perimeter.
He ran to Clara, dropping to his knees and pulling her into his arms.
"Are you hit? Clara, look at me! Did he shoot you?" Julian’s voice was frantic, his hands shaking as he checked her face, her neck, her bandaged shoulder.
"No... no, I'm okay," Clara sobbed, burying her face in his chest, her hands clutching his white shirt. "He... he came out of nowhere. He took the guard down..."
"I've got you," Julian whispered, holding her so tightly she could feel the frantic, wild beating of his heart. "I've got you. I'm sorry. I swear to God, I will kill every last one of them for touching you."
Suddenly, the headlights of a large SUV cut through the trees, blinding them both.
A burst of automatic gunfire tore through the branches above their heads, raining pine needles and splinters down upon them.
"Get down!" Julian roared, throwing his body over Clara’s, shielding her just as she had shielded his daughter.
He fired back with his pistol, his shots precise and deadly, shattering the SUV's windshield. But more men were spilling out of the vehicle, their automatic weapons lighting up the dark woods.
"Marcus!" Julian yelled into his shoulder mic. "South perimeter! We are under heavy fire! Need immediate extraction!"
"We're coming, boss! Hold on!"
Julian looked down at Clara, her blue eyes wide with a terrifying, beautiful vulnerability. In the midst of the chaos, the gunfire, and the freezing cold, their eyes locked, and a silent, undeniable bond forged between them.
"Trust me," Julian whispered.
May you like
"I trust you," Clara replied.
With a fierce growl, Julian stood up, firing his remaining rounds to force the attackers back, grab Clara by her waist, and drag her back toward the safety of the estate’s inner walls as the headlights of his security vehicles finally arrived, turning the woods into a battlefield of flashing lights and roaring engines.
