29. Yuri
TWENTY-NINE
Yuri
I don’t feel good about leaving Nikolai behind, but I know we can’t afford to linger. We have to get to Igor and Roman before they can escape and regroup.
There’s no point in attempting stealth anymore. The other two teams have caused more than enough uproar, and everybody in the mansion is frantically trying to figure out where the attackers are coming from. It does mean that some of them overlook me as they run past me to help their comrades dealing with the other teams.
“Has anyone seen Roman?” I ask into the comms.
“By the west wing,” Sierra answers. “It looks like he’s trying to get to the garage?”
I don’t know how she spotted him in this chaos, but I’ll take it. I rush through the mansion, ignoring the guards who shout when they see me.
I crash into the door to the garage, and it opens easily. The ports are wide open, and I quickly hit the buttons to lower them again.
“Fuck!” Roman shouts. He’s standing by the motorcycles.
He’s standing by my motorcycle.
I don’t hesitate. I shoot at him, but he’s already ducked behind the bike. My hand wavers with anger.
How dare he use it as cover.
“You’re Kostik’s little pet, right?” Roman shouts back. “His pathetic little bootlicker.”
My face heats in humiliation, but I can’t focus on that. It shouldn’t matter what Roman thinks of me. “Why don’t you come out and face me like a man, Romashka ?” I emphasize the nickname, and it gets the desired reaction.
“You little fucker. Show some respect,” Roman peers out from behind the bike and shoots, but it’s a blind shot that misses widely. I get into position behind one of the sedans.
“I’d show respect if you deserved it,” I answer hotly. “But that’s the problem, right? You’re so jealous that Kot—Kostya’s ten times the man you are.” I have to catch myself not to use the overly intimate nickname, the one I’d defaulted to even before Kotya and I could have been considered lovers.
Unfortunately, Roman isn’t inattentive. He notices the slip. “ Kotya ? Are you—” He starts laughing. “Are you telling me that you’re?—”
I remove the earpiece and toss it as far away from myself as I can.
Roman is still laughing. “Are you literally sucking his cock? No fucking wonder.”
I know there’s no point in denying it. No matter what I say, Roman will take it as confirmation. I shouldn’t be ashamed of being bisexual. It has gotten me Sierra and Konstantin and Nikolai.
I remember how it was in Russia though, how fucking repressed I’d been, how scared of the derision and potential beatings.
“Kostya is gay, then? That’s why he said he didn’t have a woman.” Roman is still laughing, like it’s all a fucking joke to him.
I can take the insults for myself, but I won’t allow him to look down on Kotya.
I start sneaking closer to Roman. My grip on the gun is shaky with anger, but I have the knife, too. I don’t need a steady hand to stab him.
“Meanwhile, you’ve got how many women? And satisfy none of them,” I answer. “Is it even your child, Roman? I remember the way everybody talked about your wife. She was a loose one. Your mistress enjoyed the guards too, if rumor is to be believed. Is it even your child?”
“Shut your fucking mouth, you little cock-sucker!” Roman shouts, and he takes another wild shot—but he’s still too cowardly to relinquish his spot behind my bike.
I don’t know about his mistress, or how true any of those rumors are. I do know that men like Roman can’t stand even the idea of their women stepping out on them, though.
I get to the sedan parked next to my bike and wait. My choices aren’t great, but if I tip my bike, I can pin him under it and take him out.
I ready myself to do that, when the door to the main building opens.
“Boss?” a voice calls out.
“The garage door!” Roman shouts back. “Open it now!”
The guard obeys without question, and I curse. I rush toward Roman, but he gets on the bike and turns the ignition. The rain pours down all around us, obscuring the view ahead.
“Get the fuck off my bike!” I shout, aiming the gun at him—at my bike.
My beloved bike that had been a gift from Kotya, that I’ve cherished for years now. The bike I’d used to flirt with Sierra and take her on dates. The one I’d bent her over and made her scream with pleasure.
The bike that was my freedom.
Roman laughs and starts driving.
He’s going to get away.
I let out a pained sound and shoot. I hear the bullet bounce off the metal chassis. I shoot again, and this time the bullet hits the rear tire. Roman isn’t skilled enough to handle the sudden swerve, especially not on the slick road. The bike goes rolling, and Roman shouts as he’s flung from the bike and onto the hard concrete.
I rush forward, clutching the knife tighter. The rain pelts down on me, soaking me almost instantly.
Roman’s side is half-shredded, the suit he’d been wearing not protecting him at all from skidding across the concrete. It’s only too bad he hadn’t been driving faster.
He sees me approaching and fumbles for his gun, but it’s several meters away on the driveway.
I approach him. “Not so tough now, are you?” I sneer at him. “You think you can come here and take over Kotya’s business? You think there is nobody who supports him?”
Gunshots are still going off all around us, like a fucking warzone. Roman whimpers and raises his arm to shield himself.
“Get up,” I tell Roman. “Get up and fucking fight me, the way you’ve always wanted to.”
Roman’s eyes widen in terror, but he recovers and starts chuckling. “Fight you? You are nothing, boy. I never even thought about you.”
I howl in frustration and grab his ripped up arm, forcing him onto his feet. He cries out in pain, but he stays upright.
“You made Kotya’s life hell!” I have to shout to be heard over the rain. “You pushed him aside! He’s the one who should be the heir! Not you!”
Roman shakes his head. “I’m the firstborn, my father’s legitimate son. I’m not a fucking bastard. But that’s why you flocked to him, right? Because you’re some fucking street orphan who was born from trash. You’ll always be trash, too.”
I hate that he’s getting to me, that I can feel all the derision I’d faced all my life. I’m grown now. I’m not a fucking teenager anymore. I spent time in prison, and I worked hard to become Kotya’s right-hand man.
“I’m going to kill you,” I tell him. “I am going to gut you, and I will present your entrails to Kotya as a gift.”
I’m rabid with a familiar rage. It’s the same way I’d felt when I’d thought Sierra had sold me out—except I’d never truly wanted to kill Sierra.
“A pathetic little boy like you?” Roman taunts. He takes a few steps away, though, wincing at the pain.
I rush forward with a shout, the knife out. Roman grabs my arms and tries to tackle me to the ground. We end up on the lawn, rolling in the mud while the water pelts down around us.
“This is for Kotya,” I shout, slashing the knife across his chest.
Roman cries out and rolls away from me. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a deep cut. I try again, but Roman manages to kick me in the shin.
A flash of lightning suddenly reveals another man nearby. He aims his gun at me, and I curse, rolling away. I can’t tell who it is with this shit visibility.
“Get him!” Roman shouts. “Get Konstantin’s dog!”
The man strides closer to me, and I get ready to tackle him for his weapon—but his skull explodes in blood and brain matter as a bullet goes right through it. He crumples to the ground.
I don’t know who shot him, but I’m not looking this gift horse in the mouth. I scramble toward Roman while he attempts to stand up in the slick mud.
I stab him in the gut. Roman cries out, reaching for me, but I kick him away. Then I stab him again, this time cutting him open from chest to navel, and I hear his pained screams even over the thundering rain.
I stand there and watch as he writhes in agony, and I step onto the open wound.
“Yes, I’m fucking Kotya,” I say. “And his future wife. She’s pregnant, by the way. Their child will inherit everything. Whatever you thought belonged to you? It’s Kotya’s now.”
Roman gasps and raises his hand.
It falls back to the muddy ground. His body stills completely.
I stare at his dead body even as the rain continues to come down around us.
I’m still standing over Roman when somebody approaches me. I grip my knife and get ready to attack.
It’s Nikolai.
“Well, that’s one way to get rid of him,” he comments. He runs a hand through his rain-slick hair. “Come on. We haven’t found Kotya’s dad yet. And why the fuck did you take out your earpiece?”
“Kotya didn’t need to hear what Roman was saying,” I mumble. I take a few steps forward but stop next to my bike. “He tried to steal my bike.”
Nikolai lets out a huff that might be a laugh. “Good thing you gutted him before he had the chance.” He looks down at the tire, though, and his smile fades. “We can get it fixed,” he tells me. “Like we can replace all my shit. Let’s go.”
Nikolai hands me an earpiece, and I place it back in.
“Don’t you ever fucking do that again,” Sierra immediately orders. “The whole point of an earpiece is that I am there to help you!”
“Sorry,” I answer, but I don’t regret it. “Where do we need to go now?”
“Konstantin’s father is still at large, but—Kotya? Hey! Where are you going?” Sierra’s voice gets muffled, and I don’t hear anything for a while.
I grimace and lean against Nikolai. “He went after Igor, didn’t he?”
Nikolai heaves a breath. “We’d better figure out where the fuck he is. Goddamn it. I’m going to strangle Kotya when we find him.”
No resting yet.
I sigh and stand up straight. “Did you shoot that guy?”
“Guy? What guy?” Nikolai asks. I point in the direction of Roman’s dead guard, and Nikolai shakes his head. “Must have been one of Cresci’s or Corvi’s men.”
Good to know that our allies are doing their parts. Still, it was a good shot, especially given the rain.
I’ll have to thank whoever it was later.
After we’ve found Kotya.