Russian Mobster's Stolen Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

the building by now.
    Grigori threw the podium at the final remaining flunky. The guy’s eyes went wide as he tried to deflect the heavy missile. He missed, catching it inside and falling hard on his backside. His groan went right along with the pastor’s silent weeping.
    Seeing the marriage license on the floor, Grigori swiped it up and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Then he headed for the side door. It opened into an office. Papers fluttered to the floor as he slammed the door closed and locked it. Seeing a back entrance, Grigori grabbed the desk and pulled it over to block the doorway. Papers and pens fell to the floor along with a flat screen computer monitor.
    “Oops,” he muttered. “I suppose I’ll burn in hell for that.”
    Something heavy hit the door, causing the desk to shiver and shake. It was time to get out.
    Grigori bounded through the outer entrance, spilling into the bushes at the side of the building. He could hear someone trying to get into the pastor’s office on the inside, and also men yelling in the main part of the church. What he didn’t hear was a woman.
    Grigori whistled, trying to hail Anson and Igor. He got no response. Running around the front of the building, he quickly discovered why.
    “Don’t move.”
    The man holding a gun on Anson, Igor, and now Grigori was a tall, thin fellow with a shaved head and bulging eyes. He stood beneath a light, holding Flynn in front of him like a shield. Grigori put his hands out to his sides, feeling the knife strapped to his wrist begin to slide down into position.
    Flynn seemed very calm, all things considered. She also looked annoyed. “Teller, just go home. This is bullshit. I’m here of my own free will. Go back and tell my father that.”
    “No thank you, Miss Callaghan.” The man named Teller did not look particularly happy. “I don’t care to reap the consequences of your actions.”
    “It’s not my fault that my asshole father would rather shoot the messenger than deal with the problem.” Flynn was staring right at Grigori.
    If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she was trying to signal him or something. Unfortunately, he had no idea what she was trying to convey. He inched closer, trying to get the perfect angle. With Teller’s gun hand outstretched and his finger on the trigger, there was only going to be one opportunity to get this right.
    “I’m sorry,” Teller said to Anson and Igor. “The two of you are just going to have to die. Three to one is not a set of odds I like.”
    It all happened in slow motion. Teller began to pull the trigger at the same moment Grigori let fly with his throwing knife. The blade sliced right into his hand and stuck tight. Teller gave an agonized cry that ended in a grunt as Flynn buried her elbow in his gut. Then she spun on her heel and executed a neat front snap kick that caught Teller right between the legs.
    Grigori, Anson, and Igor all cringed at the sound of her foot hitting the man’s balls. Then Teller collapsed to the ground. Flynn wasted no time. She smashed her foot into Teller’s throat then went running past Grigori.
    “Are you coming?” she called over her shoulder. “I don’t have good shoes on for actually crushing a windpipe!”
    Grigori stared at his men. “What did I marry?”
    Anson shrugged. “I think she’s hot.”
    Igor was already running after her. Grigori had no choice but to turn and follow with Anson on his tail. Stretching his longer legs, Grigori caught up to Flynn and took her hand in his. The warm tingle from their contact was a surprise, as was her willingness to follow his lead through the trees.
     
    FLYNN HAD NO clue where they were going. She only knew she had to get away from her father’s men as fast as possible. If that meant Grigori was her new best friend, then so be it. It was pitch black and they were dashing through a knot of trees with nothing but the light of a low hanging moon to see by.
    “Quietly,” he ordered the