Chapter 18 Matysh #2
She sends it over, and within moments, the email appears on my phone with a copy of an invoice that just so happens to have the address to the service cabin printed on it.
The most recent invoices are dated almost ten years ago. I have to wonder if Boris might have sold the cabin within those years and this was useless, but this is the only relatively solid lead we have.
I gather everyone in the grand foyer of the Petrov estate and explain what's happening. I don't have time to send a surveillance team four hours away to see if there's activity happening at this cabin.
It's a leap of faith to go out there, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.
***
Boris's cabin is off the road with a long driveway, hidden amidst the trees. I turn off the lights and pull in part way before stopping the car and instructing everyone to get out.
We have to walk from here.
We're all quiet as we approach. The only sound is the faint footfall of boots crunching against snow. But when the cabin is finally in view, I catch sight of the warm glow of a light beaming through one of the windows.
Bingo. I highly doubt Boris has been renting the cabin out through Airbnb.
The closer we get, I see several cars in the driveway, one of which I recognize as Boris’s. Of course, he's probably here with several of his own men.
We wait outside for only a few minutes to try and gauge what's happening inside. The curtains are all drawn, so I can't see if there's a room Catarina is in or get a good idea about the number of men inside.
“Vse bud'te gotovy (Everyone get ready),” I whisper, crouching down and inching toward the front door, careful not to set off any alarms or motion sensors I spot through the darkness.
When we get to the door, I see no security cameras, no motion sensor lights. Nothing. Up close, it's clear this house hasn't been touched in years. The wood paneling on the outside is rotted, and there are old, dead flowerpots sitting broken by the front door.
I look over my shoulder at Mauricio’s men and nod my head, letting them know I'm moving now. I stand upright and kick the door in.
It gives way more easily than I anticipated, splintering the doorframe as the boom echoes through the cabin. Several guards sitting in a small but comfortable living area all jump to their feet, reaching for the guns at their hips.
They're too slow, as I and five of Mauricio’s men all swarm into the room, firing bullets recklessly at them all. Every guard goes down, and we move toward the commotion happening deeper in the cabin.
We separate so we can cover more ground and keep an eye on anybody planning to flee. Right now, the only thing I'm looking for is Boris.
I kick down every door I come across. A few of them have housemaids cowering in corners, and I leave them alone before moving on to the next. I shoot one guard in the back, not paying him any mind as he crashes to the ground.
The last door I kick in gives way, and a wide-open window sends a gust of snow through the room. I rush over to it and see Boris outside, running away from the cabin.
I jump through the window without sparing a second thought, the cold wind nipping my face. I don't run as I watch my prey fleeing. Boris is slow and old, with bad joints and a gait that doesn't favor him in this fight.
Motherfucker.
I point my gun and aim it at his leg, pulling the trigger milliseconds before the bullet flies through the air and lodges in his thigh. He's far enough away that his scream is muffled, but it echoes through the trees.
“Where are you going?” I shout after him, making sure I have plenty of bullets in my gun for what I have planned. I walk over to him, kicking him over. “What's the rush, Boris?”
“You're not as easy to kill as your brother.” He flashes a shit-eating grin at me, and I kick him in the side again.
“You're going to want to choose your next words very carefully,” I warn, kneeling down in the snow beside him, my gun pressed against his chin. “Gde moya zhena (Where is my wife)?”
Boris doesn't say anything. He stares at me in silence before he laughs. I press the gun harder against his chin, cocking the trigger.
“You think this is funny?” I pull the gun away from his chin and shoot his other leg. He cries out from the pain, his eyes squeezed shut.
“You don't know what the fuck you started when you touched her!” I feel myself starting to lose my grip on my anger, tempted to smash his fucking skull in with the heel of my boot.
I want to paint this entire yard red with his blood. I could tear him limb from limb right now.
“You're pathetic,” Boris says through the pain. “How could you think any of that was real? You practically let me use you.”
I grit my teeth and glare down at him. “You're the one who doesn't know what's real. Now tell me where my wife is, and I'll kill you quickly.”
I holster my gun and pull a knife out of my pocket, flicking it open so he can see the full length of the blade. He gulps. I know he's imagining all the stories he's heard of people who have wronged me…
And how he's going to end up as one of them.
“Don't worry, she's here. She's in her room.” He looks back at the knife as if he's expecting me to close it and uphold my end of the bargain.
Why would I do that when he didn't uphold his?
I'm salivating at the idea of torturing him, at making him slowly bleed out here so he can feel helpless and weak, just like I felt when he took Catarina from me.
But before I can slice the blade into his flesh, someone calls my name from the cabin.
“It's all clear! We’ve got her!” they shout.
I turn back to Boris, flicking the knife shut as I look him in his eyes one last time.
“You picked the wrong family to fuck with,” I say, grabbing the gun from the holster and pointing it between his eyes.
“Wait,” a voice calls out, and I recognize it immediately. My heart jumps to my throat as Catarina comes sprinting toward me, her eyes wide.
“You need to go inside,” I choke out, pushing away the emotions of just seeing her again. It’s shocking. And even more shocking when I let her take the gun from me.
“What… What are you doing?” Boris’s eyes go wide. “Daughter…”
“This is for all the years you controlled me,” she whispers, firing a round into his leg.
He wails with pain as she brings up the gun, directing it at his chest.
“And this is for Mikhail.” She unloads a round into his chest, a tear slipping down her cheek.
“You don’t have to do this.” I reach out, my hand brushing her arm. “You—”
“And this is for Matysh.” She forces out the words, and a single shot rings out, hitting her father right between the eyes. His body goes limp, blood splattered across the snow.
“You…”
“I thought he killed you,” she cries, turning to me and dropping the gun to the ground.
I pull her into my arms. I hold her close, more thankful than I've ever been to be beside her.
She looks up at me with tear-filled eyes while I untie the ropes around her hands, telling me everything her father said.
“I had no idea he was doing this, I swear to you,” Catarina says, crying as she shakes her head. I see the guilt in her eyes, and I immediately grab her face, leaning in and kissing her.
Any anger I feel seems to vanish seeing her like this. She’s destroyed, heartbroken at the entire situation. I am, too. But right now, with Boris dead and no longer a problem, all I want is to comfort her.
And that’s not like me. But there’s no one else like Catarina.
I press my forehead against hers. “I know you didn't.”
“I was so scared something happened to you,” Catarina cries again. I pull her closer and hug her, brushing her disheveled hair out of her face. “I felt so helpless. I didn’t know what was happening, or if you were okay. I’m so sorry.”
Catarina chokes out a sob, tears staining her face.
“Sorry for what?”
“For what he did to you... For what my own father did to Mikhail. I should’ve known it was him all along,” she says, her voice raw and hoarse.
“I don’t blame you for anything,” I whisper in her ear, finally pulling away so I can dry the tears from her eyes. “All that matters now is that you’re safe. That our baby is safe.”
Catarina stares up at me, her eyes still watery, giving me a weary smile that seems to lighten the weight of everything in my chest. “I love you, Matysh,” she whispers, her eyes scanning my face.
I pause, the moment wrecking my chest. And finally, I can’t fucking deny it any longer.
“I love you, Catarina.” I bend down and kiss her again, feeling the full weight of the words in every movement.
I can’t fucking live without her.