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Flynn watched in shock as it landed on its side and came to a screeching halt in the middle of the dirt track.
    “Next!” Anson chorused.
    “Don’t get cocky,” Grigori warned. “There’s another one coming right at us.”
    He carefully maneuvered their Jeep to the edge of the road, picking up speed as he did. Anson pulled up his rifle and repositioned the barrel over the edge of Flynn’s seat. She scooched down and wondered if he was going to accidentally shoot her head off.
    The rifle went off, the bullet pinging off the fast approaching vehicle. Then Anson pulled the trigger three more times in quick succession. The windshield of the other vehicle shattered, followed by the headlight, and finally the tire burst and the larger SUV swerved precariously toward the edge of the road.
    “Shit, they’re coming right for us,” Grigori snarled. “Hold on.”
    Flynn held tight to the roll cage as they careened past the oncoming vehicle. They scraped sides, the squeal of metal on metal almost bone chilling as they managed to get by. The other SUV hung up on a tree and stopped abruptly. Flynn could actually hear the passengers screaming as they were thrown against the sides and back of the vehicle. She wondered if Teller was among them and hoped he was. That bastard needed to die one way or another.
     

Chapter Six
     
     
    By the time Grigori finally pulled up in front of the narrow brick house in Richmond’s historic district that he called home, Flynn was nodding off in the passenger seat. It was after two in the morning, and Grigori was feeling the effects of sleep deprivation as well. His eyes were so gritty it felt like he’d doused them in sand.
    He made eye contact with Anson and Igor in the rearview mirror. “You two take watch. Ask Ivan to spell you if necessary. I want someone watching the street at all times. We’re not taking any chances.”
    “Got it, boss.” Anson nodded. Then he waggled his bushy brows. “Are you planning to enjoy your wedding night?”
    Igor elbowed Anson hard, gesturing to Flynn. “She’s barely conscious, dimwit! Besides, half the night is over already.”
    “If you two are done speculating about my sex life.” Grigori looked from one man to the other. “You can get a move on now.”
    They complied, casing the street carefully before getting out of the vehicle. That left Flynn for Grigori to handle. If she woke up before he made it into the house, he almost wondered if she might not castrate him for touching her.
    She didn’t stir when he lifted her into his arms. He cradled her against his chest, feeling an unfamiliar pang of something soft and mushy near his heart. There was no denying his admiration for the woman. She’d come through a horrific ordeal. In fact, if someone else put her through such a trial, Grigori would eviscerate them. Instead, it was simply the price he had to pay in order to stay in America.
    “Where are we?” she murmured when Igor opened the front door.
    Grigori carried her inside and went directly upstairs to the fourth floor where he had converted the entire space into his personal quarters. “We’re home. I have a place you can rest.”
    She blinked, her green eyes clearing just long enough to focus on his face. Then she shut them again and pressed her face to his chest. It was odd. There was no tension in her body from being close to him. It was as if she trusted him, which was an insane notion at best.
    Unable to resist, he lowered his head and inhaled deeply of her soft, feminine scent. There was something wild about the smell of Flynn. Both of them were battered and covered in bruises and scrapes, but she still smelled divine. He saw the scratch on her cheek was swollen. It made his gut clench with regret for what had happened.
    Grigori laid Flynn gently on his bed. He pulled her shoes off and set them on the floor. Then he went to get a warm washcloth from the bathroom. By the time he got back, she was sitting up.
    “Is this your