Claimed

ALEXIA GREEN. 

“Good girl. Do not open this door no matter 

what.” Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I should stay. He’s right. 

I’m injured. Both of us traveling to wherever he’s going to get a signal on his walkie–talkic is a big 

risk. 

I could slow him down or worse, we could both 

end up dead. 

With all that information in my head, my nerves still swallow me whole and spit me right out. 

I’m not a ‘good girl“. 

And not only am I scared to death but I’m scared of Demetri and his men finding me here and shooting me long before I know how to remove safety, aim and fire. 

I don’t stay. 

I don’t follow his rules. 

I wait till he leaves. 

Twenty seconds later, I walk as fast as my injured leg can to the bedroom. Once in the bedroom, I don’t look at the room twice or anything for that 

matter because I kneel on the floorboards, peek under the bed and find a hunting rifle strapped to the bottom part of the bed with tape.. 

1 take the rifle. 

Thirty seconds later, I tie a wooden spoon against my injured leg. That should be able to help me walk in the snow without difficulty. 

Fifty–five seconds later? 

My throat feels desert dry as the night greets me like an old friend. 

The gun in my hands feels heavier than the boots. adorning my legs or the snow that’s falling harder than earlier. 

What’s even harder? 

Following Christian Volkov in the middle of the night and trying to stay hidden. 

The man moves like a lumberjack accustomed to, the harsh weather of Alaska. 

Except this place isn’t Alaska but a place so much 

worse. 

Eyes straight, never stopping to rest, his gun set on one hand, Christian Volkov moves like a 

machine. 

We’ve been trudging against the snow and the harsh weather for what seems like an eternity and so far, I feel like the amount of sweat my body is 

perspiring is enough to drown an entire island. my back hurts, my lips are chapped and my heart is beating erratically against my chest at the chance of being caught by Demetri, a wild animal or worse, the guy I’m following. 

The guy who told me to stay put in his fancy safe house while he made sure we got out of here. 

“DiMarco? Shit, come in…Coordinates: the safe house you left with no water and no food! Jagger? Ten–four, come in? Fuck.” 

Vicious‘ echoes shake a few birds from the trees. 

From where I’m standing, hiding behind a tree with a rifle in my hand, I can taste his frustration. 

He stops walking. 

He taps his walkie–talkie twice then stops. 

I think he’s given up. 

I should rush back to the safe house before he knows I followed him all the way here. 

My feet barely touch the snow before new noises. 

fill the air. 

It’s not me. It’s not Volkov. 

How do I know? Because I don’t speak Russia and the men speaking into the night are definitely. Russian and they are headed this way. 

Volkov angles his head in the direction of the 

men’s voices. 

Like a predator, he waits with his gun barely lifted and his talkie on the other hand 

Like a prey, I’m shaking at my hiding spot. 

Run, Christian. Hide, Just hide 

The idiot doesn’t hide. 

The noises only get closer and the weather grows angrier. The fear clawing my neck has paralyzed me on the spot. 

A few trees get snapped out of the way, the sound of snow getting crushed by heavy army boots resonates in the small space between Volkov and me before everything turns to hell. 

Two men appear in front of Volkov, 

Big like Demetri. Ferocious like your typical Russian mobsters. They are Demetri’s men and they are heavily armed with more guns. 

I should have carried the other two guns from the kitchen and the living room. 

They are going to kill him. 

They are going to kill me. 

Buzz cut number one, the one whose hair is blonde and has a gnashing scar on his chin says something to Volkov, 

Volkov chuckles and my head swims, all my 

thoughts swirling in one direction. His laugh is as burning as his touch. 

Then as if my boss couldn’t get any sexier enough, he opens his mouth and speaks Russian. 

The first dude, Buzz cut number one, chuckles but his smile is a condescending one. 

The telltale pulse of dread travels up my neck. 

What happens next happens so fast, I barely have enough time to take my rifle, hold it well and aim it at the two Russians. 

One of the men has his gun locked and loaded on 

Volkov’s forehead. 

The other guy tells Volkov something between the lines of ‘say your last words‘ and ‘time to meet your maker‘ in Russian. 

My hand flies to my mouth. 

This is it. This is how he dies and how I’ll die. This 

is how- 

Time slows in reverse. 

One minute Christian is about to be blown his 

brains out and the next, he yanks the gun from 

Buzz cut number one. 

Before Buzz cut number two has a chance to 

react, my boss doesn’t blink, doesn’t even think as he fires his gun shooting the man between his 

eyes with his other gun. 

Like he’s playing Russian roulette, he aims the second gun at the man who was about to kill him shooting him in the head. 

Both bodies fall to the ground like logs. Their blood taints the snow with dark red. 

The scream I’m trying to unleash dies down my throat. They are dead. He just–just killed them. 

In my moment of getting shaken to the bones by the blood and gore, I stare at Christian who is wiping blood off his talkie like he just killed a bug. 

Except right beyond Christian, I see the men. hiding behind the trees, the men who are loading their guns to spray him with bullets. 

Oh no, No. 

He killed two men but there are like six men 

about to kill him. 

Vicious might have killed two men in less than a 

minute but he can’t handle six men alone. 

I can’t watch him die. 

“Remove safety, aim and fire.” 

His words rack my brain. 

I steady the rifle in my hands. 

God, I can’t do this. I can’t kill anyone. I can’t 

protect him. 

I point the rifle with shaking hands in Christian’s direction. 

All I have to do is to aim at the target. 

I see three men already holding their guns up at a clueless Volkov. Yeah, I can shoot them. 

I remove the safety, at least that’s what I think it is, I place my index finger on the trigger, I aim at the target and then? 

I fire the gun.