We are taking book requests on our companion website. You can request books here. Make sure, you are following the rules.

Tears Of Salvation: Chapter 10


Besides the four of us, I have another ten other highly trained men to attack Sonia.

I’m worried about Isabella, but I hope she’ll make a run for it the moment we strike.

Everyone’s wearing an earpiece and is heavily armed. Carson’s taken position on the roof of a nearby apartment block from where he’ll offer cover. Damien will breach the front with a group of men, while Demitri and I will enter from the back of the property with the remaining four men.

It’s judgment day, and I’m confident that I’ll remain standing while Sonia falls.

“Ready?” I ask.

‘Ready,’ Carson answers.

‘In position,’ Damien’s voice comes over the earpiece.

“Time to hunt,” I chuckle, then I give the order, “Breach.”

We scale the wall, and instantly rapid gunfire sounds from the front of the house, startling the men guarding the back. They spot us as we move in on them and open fire.

Lifting my sub-machine gun, I pull the trigger, and the weapon vibrates in my grip as one bullet after the other flies, riddling the guards’ bodies.

As we push forward, moving in on the patio, one of the glass doors on the second floor opens, and Hugo Lamas steps out, opening fire on us. The fucker manages to take out two of my men before he darts back into the room.

Demitri and I split from the remaining two men, and I shout to them, “Breach through the patio. We’re going for the second floor.”

Demitri and I keep firing shots, moving fast to avoid being hit. When we near the back of the house, I sling the strap of my sub-machine across my shoulder and chest.

Running faster, I jump to the wall of the house, then use the momentum I’ve gained to push my body higher so I can grip hold of the balcony. Using all my strength, I yank my body up, and grabbing hold of the handrail, I swing myself onto the balcony. I quickly pull my Heckler & Koch from behind my back as Demitri lands next to me, and then we enter the room.

Just then, the sound of the helicopter’s engine starting attracts my attention, and I dart back out onto the balcony. Glancing up to the side of the roof, I see the blades picking up speed.

“Fuck, Sonia’s making a run for it!” 

Running back inside the room, Demitri and I are met with some of Sonia’s men as we burst into the hallway. It takes precious seconds to kill the men before we run up the stairs to where the exit to the roof hopefully is.

At the top of the stairs, I kick my way through the door. The downdraft from the helicopter taking off slams into me, ripping at my clothes, and as I lift my arm to aim at the aircraft, I say, “Carson, the helicopter can’t leave.”

‘Got it,’ his reply comes over the earpiece.

Surprise vibrates through me when I see Isabella run toward the helicopter as it lifts into the air. My heart stutters as she leaps into the air, grabbing hold of one of the landing skids. She swings wildly for a moment as the helicopter slants to the side, and then a bullet bounces off the steel body.

“Fuck, it’s armored,” I spit out, knowing that makes it almost impossible for us to take the helicopter down.

I take aim for the cockpit window as the helicopter turns, but then the side door slides open. As I move my aim, Isabella only hangs by her left hand as she pulls her gun from behind her back.

She fires a shot at Hugo, hitting him, but then she loses grip as he takes a shot at her, and my breath stalls in my throat as she falls.

Demitri and I open fire on Hugo, but for the first time in my life, I don’t think and just react as I start to run for the back of the roof. I leap down to one of the balconies beneath, and grabbing the railing, I throw my body over the side, landing on the lawn in a crouching position. Darting up, I sprint for the side of the house where Isabella fell, and as I round the corner, I see her where she’s lying in the courtyard. A wrought iron table is tipped over, which must’ve happened when her body hit it.


Reaching Isabella, I crouch beside her, and then there’s a heavy sinking feeling in my gut. Blood’s trickling from her slightly parted lips, and there’s a gash on the left side of her temple.

“Is she alive?” Demitri asks as he comes up behind me.

“I don’t know,” I murmur as I glance up, in time to see Sonia’s helicopter fading in the distance.

“Fuck,” I curse as anger explodes in my chest. I look down at Isabella again.

What a fucking fuck up!

Demitri has two fingers to her neck, then his gaze meets mine. “There’s a weak pulse.”

Damien comes running around the side of the house. “We have to move!”

“Where are the rest of the men?” I ask when I notice he’s alone.

He shakes his head, then stares down at Isabella. “What happened?”

“She fell,” Demitri answers. “Go get me a towel.”

While Damien runs for the entrance closest to us, Demitri says, “I want to brace her neck before we move her. Carson, bring the SUV as close as you can to the right side of the mansion.”

‘On my way,’ Carson replies.

It takes another couple of seconds before my mind starts working again. Then, pulling my phone from my pocket, I call the private airfield where my jet is waiting and instruct them to get everything ready for departure.

“Can you keep her alive until we reach LA?” I ask Demitri.

“I’ll do my best,” he mutters as he begins to check her for other wounds.

Bringing up the number for Tristan, my business partner in LA, I press dial.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” he answers after a couple of rings.

“I need your help.”

“Anything,” he replies without hesitating.

“Dr. West. I need her. Take her to the underground hospital.”

Tristan knows where it is, seeing as a couple of years back, we got equipment from it to help save Dr. West’s daughter after she was kidnapped and almost killed. It’s time for the world-class cardiothoracic surgeon to repay the favor she owes me.

I check the time on my watch, then say, “We’ll be there in seven hours.”

“I’ll take care of everything on this end. Who got hurt?”

“A friend. No one you know.”

Tristan lets out a relieved breath before we hang up.

Damien comes back with the towel, and Demitri carefully wraps it around Isabella’s neck before taking off his belt to secure it in place.

A minute later, Carson jogs toward us. “Let’s go!”

“Where’s the SUV?” I ask, wondering how the hell we’re going to move Isabella. Just picking her up might cause more damage if she hurt her back or neck with the fall.

He gestures behind him. “Just around the corner.”

Locking eyes with Demitri, I ask, “How do we move her?”

He shakes his head, taking a moment to think, then he says, “I need something solid to carry her on.”

“Will a door work?” I ask.

The moment Demitri nods, Damien says, “One door coming right up.”

I’d chuckle if I wasn’t so goddamned worried about Isabella.

My gaze drifts over her pale face, and then the memory of her falling flashes through my mind. It makes a weird sensation grip my heart in a merciless hold. It’s almost similar to what I felt when Demitri got shot.

You’re strong. You’re going to be okay.

It’s only after I think the words that I realize I’m trying to convince myself this is not how Isabella ends.



Coming to a screeching stop at the back of the underground hospital, I climb out of the SUV and run to the back of the vehicle where Demitri meets me. We open the door, and then I jump inside so I can pick up the door by Isabella’s head.

We’re careful as we move her out of the SUV. She survived the flight, and the last thing I want to do is lose her because we’re reckless.

Dr. West and Dr. Oberio, a trauma surgeon, wheel a stretcher toward us, and we carefully place Isabella on it with the door still beneath her.

My eyes lock on the doctors, then I say, “Do your best to save her.”

Dr. West nods, and then they’re both wheeling Isabella down the hallway toward the surgery room.

Tristan glances at his aunt before the doors shut behind the doctors and Isabella as he walks toward me. He embraces me, and it’s only then I feel how tired I am.

“You okay?” he asks as he pulls back.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I say, “Yeah. Just worried.”

“Who’s the woman?” he asks.

I don’t know what to call Isabella and end up murmuring, “A friend.”

I walk to the small waiting room with Tristan and Demitri following behind me, and when I take a seat, I pull my phone out and dial Carson’s number. He stayed in Columbia with Damien.

“Did you make it?” Carson answers the call.

“Yes. They’re working on Isabella.”

“What do you want us to do on this side?” my brother asks.

“Clean out the house we were staying at.” Then I remember Isabella’s safe house and the girls we freed last night.

God, has it only been twenty-four hours?

“Also, go to the safe house where we dropped off the girls and check on them. If they’re still there, we’ll need to figure something out.”

“I’ll handle everything. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks, brother,” I say with a heavy sigh.

We end the call, and then I slump back against the chair and take a deep breath.

Fucking Sonia got away.

I only manage to sit still for a minute or so before climbing to my feet. Walking out into the hallway again, I stare at the shut doors, worry for Isabella and how serious her injuries are whirling in my chest.

A hand falls on my shoulder, and I know it’s Demitri without having to look.

“She’s a fighter,” he says, probably trying to set me at ease.

“I hope Isabella makes it,” I mutter. “It would be a fucking waste to lose her.”

“What are we going to do about Sonia?” he asks.

Glancing at my friend, I say, “Have our contact in the Ruin start searching for anything on Sonia’s whereabouts.” I take a deep breath, my eyes going back to the shut doors. “You might as well head home. Spend some time with Ariana and check the underground chatter for talk of Sonia.”

“And you?” Demitri asks.

“I’ll stay here with him,” Tristan answers on my behalf.

Demitri locks eyes with me, waiting for the order. “I’m good here with Tristan. Don’t worry.”

Nodding, he gives my shoulder a squeeze before he heads to the back entrance where the SUV is.

“Want some coffee?” Tristan asks. When I scowl at him, he lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, brother, I don’t have vodka on me.”

I shake my head. “I’m good.”

There’s no way I’ll have the usual celebratory drink after walking away from a battle alive before Isabella’s out of the woods.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


not work with dark mode