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I scanned the room, my eyes quickly examining the four men left standing, their faces sprinkled with droplets of their friend's blood.

Once one of them recovered from the shock, a 5'9 greasy looking rat, he pulled out his gun and tried to put it to my head.

I could see Moretti's large figure moving towards him in my peripheral vision.

"Not so fast," I told the man with the unwashed, long hair. I grabbed his arm that held the gun and twisted it backwards until I heard a satisfying crack. His gun dropped to the floor. He cried out, "You fucking bitch!" as he cradled the arm.

By this time, the other three had rushed towards me. But Moretti hadn't let them get close. I watched over my shoulder as he emptied out his gun I gave him into one of them, a gigantic meathead of a man. It took all of Moretti's bullets to get him and the other man down.

I went to go help Moretti, but Greaseball over here still wasn't done yet. He wrapped his one good arm around my neck and squeezed tightly, lifting me up and off of my feet. I couldn't breathe. My throat burned and ached for air. My guns slipped from my fingers. I kicked my feet, trying to struggle.

I could see Moretti and the another man fighting. The man threw heavy punches in Moretti's face. Moretti stumbled, visibly dizzy, and fell against the wall. But the man kept going. He's going to kill him, a scared voice in my head spoke.

The man holding me chuckled in my ear, his Russian accent thick, "Once Igor kills your little boyfriend, we will have you all to ourselves." He traced his nose all the way down from my hair to my neck, smelling my skin.

Revulsion made something in the back of my throat rise up. I squirmed harder in his hold, but for a man with one good arm, he was still strong. He released some of the pressure on my neck and I gasped for air, choking and coughing.

"Do not worry, Printsessa, Ivan will take care of you," He spoke of himself in third-person as he kissed my neck with his slimy mouth.

No. No way. There's no fucking way in hell I am letting this happen.

I had regained some strength since he let me have air again. I lifted my right leg high up in front of me, which went unnoticed to Ivan, then slammed the heel of my stiletto back down onto his crotch. He crumpled and melted like a wet paper bag onto the ground, giving me a chance to get away. I picked my gun up off of the floor and made my way to Moretti.

The man was leaning over Moretti's crouched form, but Moretti wasn't done fighting. He still punched and bloodied the man in front of him, Igor. Both were bleeding, their faces terribly bruised and broken. Igor spit out beside him, a puddle of blood landing in the dirty wooden floor.

I jumped up onto Igor's back, wrapping my arms around his neck. He fought to get me off of him, but he could hardly reach me. He seemed to have found his gun on the floor, I assume Moretti had previously disarmed him. But he had gotten it back now and he lifted it to Moretti's face, his finger shifting to the trigger.

But before he could pull it, I tightened my hands as much as I could around his bald head, and twisted until I heard a familiar snap.

I jumped off as he landed in the floor with a lifeless thud. I ran to Moretti, and checked him to make sure he was alright. He had slumped to the floor, leaning against the wall. I rubbed the side of his face and he winced from the pain. I should've tortured that man for doing this.

I grabbed Moretti's arm, tugging at him. "Come on, we need to go." I pulled and pulled but he was too big to move.

He faded in and out of consciousness, his left cheek cut and bleeding and his full lips bruised and bloodied. He seemed to be clutching his side, as well. He held the spot where he had gotten shot not too long ago. God, I hope he didn't open any stitches.

A gruff, out of breath voice spoke from behind us. "You will pay for this, you stupid bitch," Ivan spoke as he lifted his gun to the beam in the ceiling.

What the hell is he going to do?

He fired off the gun right into the old, rotten beam and ran for the exit. I would've followed him, but I couldn't leave Moretti defenseless here. I tried to pull him up again, but to no avail.

I heard a sudden loud creak and looked up. The ceiling shook and the walls vibrated, releasing a coat of dust that covered the room.

"Motherfu-"

I heard wood splinter and saw the ceiling begin to crumple on top of us. I threw myself over Moretti's body.

That's when it all went black.




a/n: i'm late whoops

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