Then, she stood. A goddess. A woman.
Kira.
Dishevelled, blood-spattered. Her clothes and skin depicted trauma. Crystal blue eyes were bright with tears. A perfect hand was pressed to a perfect mouth.
All the fight went out of him. One moment he was stone, the next, liquid. Knees weak, he took a step, his hand reached out to her, a move to lessen the distance between them. His fingers ached with the stretch, his muscles quivered. His stomach pitched with the possibility that she could not be real, and what he saw was her ghost, a remnant to her corporal self. One last possibility to see her before she left him to take her place in heaven.
The apparition moved. His Kira, his stunning little sun-sprite began to run towards him. She flew on the wings of angels, so fast and so direct he was sure that he still dreamt and would wake up the moment their skin touched.
Instincts finally kicked in. His arms were open wide, ready for the epitome of perfection and wonderment to run and jump right into him. Her flight towards him was brilliant to behold.
She leapt, just like he knew she would, and she was in his arms.
She was genuine. She was whole.
She was alive.
There was a giddiness that surged through him, a disorientation that eclipsed the euphoria. There were no words, he simply gripped her, held her so close that her breath squeezed out from her lungs on a moan. In his arms, he was able to crush her tiny body to his and spin her around and around until sobs turned into squeals of happiness.
He stopped, but it was only so he could nudge her chin and fuse his lips to hers. She tasted of iron, gunpowder and salt. She tasted of sunshine, lavender, and rose. Her tongue was in his mouth, soft, sweet, perfect. He had a hand in her hair, the other around her waist, then he devoured her. His tongue thrust and slid, his hands gripped, his heart thundered, his blood fucking sung. Every muscle vibrated with the effort to hold back and not press her into the concrete at their feet and take everything that she offered. Kira returned the madness. She nipped, bit and more blood was spilt. But the sting in Euan’s lip told him that it was his. The ache, the terrible fear was gone, lost. His chest fully expanded under the realisation that against all the odds, she had survived, and she had escaped.
‘Christ, sweetheart. I never thought—’
‘Oh, heavens, Euan. I never thought—’
Then there were tears. Sobs of joy as a dam of bravery finally broke. Euan kissed the wetness, wiped them from her face with his thumbs. He needed to be tender now, discover what inflictions she suffered. His voice was hoarse, dry, as brittle as he was in anticipation of her answer. ‘Did they hurt you?’
She shook her head even as the tears continued to fall. Streaks of pale skin were revealed against bloody, grubby cheeks.
The relief was so profound that there was nothing left in him to fight. He hitched her up his body, pressed her head to his neck and encouraged her to wrap her legs around his waist. When she complied without hesitation, his knees were on the tarmac and his lips were in her ear. ‘I was destroyed without you. You’re my heart, Kira. My soul. I thought I’d lost you.’
His voice broke, her snuffles increased until she trembled in his arms. He kissed the whirls and indentations and continued. ‘Nothing is as precious to me as you. Every moment, every breath, is for you. I live for you. You’re my salvation. You’re my life. Christ, you and Nick are my everything.’
Her hands were in his shirt, tiny fingers that pried and twisted. He helped her unfasten the zip so she could worm her trembling digits inside. When she pressed closer, words of love and adoration were on her lips. He returned them and hugged her close.
Then she cried the tears of a woman who found cathartic release, who discovered safety, sanctuary and was able to let go. He savoured every beat of her heart against his chest. ‘Shh. It’s all right, I’ve got you.’ He allowed himself a brief moment to pull his face from her hair and glance about them. ‘Where’s Nicky? I need to hold that man too. Then kick his ass for scaring the shit outta me.’
Kira pulled her wet face from his neck, confusion was bright in her eyes. A furrow creased her brow. ‘What?’ she asked.
Euan’s stomach dropped, flopped and rolled. The glory of finding Kira instantly tarnished, weathered. He found it hard to form the words. ‘He’s not with you? He didn’t get you free?’
Kira shook her head. Her hands cupped his cheeks, the tremor in them solidified the nightmares that rose inside his chest. He had found one, only to lose the other. As he stared into watery blue depths, a terrible suspicion bloomed inside of him. He remembered brown eyes that watched Nick too closely, a blond man who touched Nick often, played it down with wit and banter. He remembered a man that had always sat too close, been too intimate, showed no fear towards Euan’s gruff warnings.
A man that had been the one to suggest the hunting trip in the first instance.
Kira had saved herself. She had wrenched herself out of danger, without aid, and without Nick.
Strong thighs were on his hips, resilient arms were around his neck, wild blonde hair was in his face. In her eyes, he saw the terror of what Nick faced. But she didn’t know, not the way Euan did. He breathed in and held her essence in his lungs. In all his imaginings, in all of his plans and counter plans and alternatives, he never envisioned that Nick had been the target all along.
He should
