Dark Ink (Dark Things Book 2) by Lainey Delaroque

Author:Lainey Delaroque [Delaroque, Lainey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dark romantic suspense
Publisher: Lainey Delaroque
Published: 2022-07-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

I stagger on my feet when Tanya attacks the guy I saw buying jeans before. She’s like a grizzly bear and I rush to catch up to her, seeing her rip off the dude’s ear with her teeth, her whole face bloody.

My voice lodges in my throat from the shock of it all, but deep down, I know whose side I’m on. When Baseball Cap guy runs in with something dark in his hands and tries to get Tanya off his friend, I kick him in the head. He wobbles, then ignores me, swiping a black hood over Tanya’s head. There’s a tattoo of two crossed arrows on his hand.

I rush to tackle him, trying to remember what Ivo tried to teach me the one time we had a football match for team building.

Keep your head up, your eyes on the target. Keep your back straight.

I don’t get to do it properly because Jeans Guy has finally had enough of being the victim. He shakes Tanya off, violently throwing her to her back. She groans, then tries to breathe, the air knocked out of her lungs. I can only see her bloody mouth as she gasps, her hands going to her chest, ignoring the blindfold. I have to get it off.

But Baseball Cap switches targets and knees me in the gut. My world darkens and I join Tanya on the ground, fighting to breathe. He kicks me again and again, and I twist into a ball, a searing pain ripping through my midsection.

Fucking hell. I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t call for backup. I wasn’t strong enough to help Tanya’s insane assault. I wasn’t smart enough to foresee this.

No. I knew Jenya was in danger. I knew and ignored it because today was a perfect day and I got to be on a date with Tanya, even if she would die before she calls it that. I had to stay firm and refuse; take Jenya to the embassy and forget about this whole operation. Finish the fire tattoo and move on to the next thing.

A black hood is swiped over my head too. The last thing I see is how Jeans Guy presses something to Tanya’s gasping mouth. Oh, fuck, please don’t kill her.

My face is yanked up, my hair in someone’s tight grip. My body hurts everywhere. The hot darkness of the hood doesn’t allow me to know what’s about to happen. An execution? I tense, expecting more pain, maybe the final sting. The adrenaline keeps me too busy to dwell on the fact that I may be dying. I try to shake off whoever holds me, but the pain in my abdomen strikes with double intensity and I curl back up.

Then I get the same treatment as Tanya—a wet rag to the face. It takes them a few crucial moments to fit it over my mouth and nose. I don’t fight them.

I may not be a protector like Damien or a fighter like Ivo. I’m not driven like Tanya.

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