Epilogue
Prime
I never should have let the thugs know I was awake.
I shouldn’t have fought them. Dragging me down the steps face down had seemed like an excruciating pain I couldn’t endure, but the beating they gave me was proving to be just as bad, possibly worse.
I was doing everything I could to reassure Zoe, but I knew something was wrong inside me, and it was more than possible I was dying.
I was going to fight until the end no matter how bad the pain was. I doubted I’d live through it, but Zoe had to. I needed to believe help was coming, otherwise I didn’t have a hope in hell of saving her. I was weak, broken and really close to losing consciousness again.
Despising the need for it I asked, “Zoe, baby. You’re going to have to help me. I don’t think I can walk out of here on my own. I’m not even certain I can sit up without passing out.”
“I cannot carry you. I’m strong, but not that strong,” she admitted.
“I know. Just let me lean on you. I’ll do all I can to keep most of my weight off you. If for some reason we can’t get me moved then you go hide. Let them take me or do whatever they wish to me. I need you to survive until help comes,” I explained.
Her lovely face reddened, and her luscious lips pulled back in an angry sneer.
“You’re a fucking asshole sometimes, do you know that?
As Flame would say, I’m not some delicate daisy you need to protect.
I’m just as capable at fighting as you are.
Haven’t I proven that in all the times I went with you and the Sinners?
Whose army was it that took out Aguilar’s last compound?
Dammit! You sound exactly like my father.
Well screw you! We both get out or neither of us do! ”
Sadly, I wasn’t in any condition to argue or force her to do as I asked.
She was strong-willed and stubborn, the entire reason I fell in love with her.
The best that I was able to do was to protect her with my life until my last breath.
A wry laugh escaped me because I had no clue how to do it. I was as useless as an infant.
I groaned, biting my tongue to keep from screaming when she lifted me to a sitting position. It took all my concentration to lift my arm so that it was around her neck. I was already covered in sweat from the effort before she asked me for more.
“Try to straighten your legs as I lift. It will be easier once you are on your feet,” she ordered.
I wasn’t able to hold back the scream as I unbent and pushed up with my legs. The pain inside me was too much to bear without the release of a shout. It echoed in the concrete room. Blood ran down my leg. I wasn’t sure where it came from.
“I’m so sorry,” Zoe said, and I knew she was crying for me. I heard it in her voice.
I couldn’t answer. Talking was impossible. It was either remain standing or speak, and staying upright was the goal.
I shuffled one foot forward a couple of inches. My body sagged and the extra weight made Zoe stumble.
“I know what your thinking,” she said before I could push her away. “Don’t say it again or try to let go of me. I will not leave you. Trust my strength more than that, please.”
Three more steps and I vomited. Blood came with it. It didn’t know if it came from deep inside or from my ravaged throat. It wasn’t good either way. Zoe didn’t hesitate. She dragged me forward another couple of steps until we reached the steel bars.
“Hold on to the bars. We’ll both rest for a minute,” she breathlessly demanded.
I complied as best I could. My trembling fingers squeezed the bars so hard they turned white, then blue. The pain I felt was nauseating and controlling it was becoming more than I could handle. I was beginning to think I preferred death.
Zoe was bent at the middle with her hands on her knees trying to regain her breath and enough strength to go on. Her determination was admirable, though ridiculously optimistic.
But all our efforts were wasted anyway. The door to the basement opened and the noise that came through it told me the compound was at war. Help was here, but so was Aguilar. He was seething with anger as he stomped toward us, a gun in his hand.
His face was red, his lips twisted, and his eyes burned with an intensity that spoke of insanity.
“Damn you all to hell!” he screeched as spit flew unheeded from his mouth. “You won’t win! I can outwit all of you!”
His crazed eyes landed on Zoe and a possessive light shone in them. “You’re supposed to be my play toy before you die. I had such wonderful plans for us. Pictures of our antics were to be sent to Petrov before your death. Now it’s too late for fun and games. Death is all that remains to be seen.”
“And you!” he shouted at me as I slid to the floor, my legs now refusing to hold me vertically. “You were to be tortured. I was planning to cut small pieces off you until you died, each piece a payment for what you destroyed. But it appears someone else got to you ahead of me.”
“Is that your doing?” he asked, pointing at the dead bodies.
“No,” I managed to say as I dragged my broken body closer to the silent, still bodies of the thugs. “Damien did that.”
“Aguilar,” Zoe said the name to capture his attention. She was deliberately doing so because somehow she knew what I was after, and she was covering my movements.
“What bitch? You want to beg for your life, maybe offer some fucking in return for it? You’re a soiled dove now, so what does it matter to you? Daddy’s little angel has filthy wings. He’s out there, you know. Maybe alive, maybe dead. Who knows or cares.”
“What’s happening? Why is there gunfire and explosions? Why is Daddy here?” she prompted as she moved a few steps to the left to unblock a path to Aguilar.
“Today is epic, you stupid bitch. Because of you the fucking Petrov line is about to be wiped out in a war between brothers.
Drago came to trade his power and his rightful jurisdiction for your life and that of the filth you let screw you.
He even brought another leader to witness his capitulation, but it was a lie.
“Damien’s compound is under attack by several factions of the mafia.
Bullets are flying all over the place. Who survives is up to fate.
I heard Drago claim he has proof of Damien’s deal with me and of his willing participation in human trafficking for the sake of his pitiful, unworthy son.
He swears there is another battle being fought to free my slaves.
My world is crumbling beneath my feet, and I will take both of you down with me,” he screamed.
Suddenly he dropped his weapon and grabbed Zoe by the throat. She pushed against his chest, shoved a knee into his unprotected groin, and scratched a bloody trail down his face with her nails. He appeared to feel none of it. He was too far gone into insanity.
His maniacal grin grew larger as Zoe’s face turned blue. She was giving him hell but couldn’t free herself. I knew she was growing weak, and I had to hurry.
The gun was beneath the body, less than an inch from my fingertips and unseen by Aguilar.
I stretched out as far as I could and slipped it from its hiding place.
My hands were shaking from pain, exhaustion, blood loss and fear as I settled it upright on the floor in front of me.
Lifting the barrel upwards I aimed at Aguilar’s head but was scared to pull the trigger in case I hit Zoe.
Pounding footsteps on the stairs caused Aguilar to turn.
He dropped Zoe like a rag doll. She crumpled to the floor in a limp heap.
I shot as his head turned to see who the intruders were, and the bullet pierced his brain through his left temple.
He never saw who had come nor did he ever take another breath.
My eyes saw only darkness as my blood loss grew too large. Strong hands lifted me into even stronger arms, arms I instinctively recognized. The Sinners had come, or at least one of them. Sweet cradled me like a child and carried me through choking smoke as the stronghold burned to the ground.
“Zoe?” I whispered.
“She’s breathing boss. Doc has her,” Sweet replied.
Now I was able to let go. I sagged in Sweet’s arms knowing we were going to live.
The impressions I got once we came out of the basement were vague. I was conscious but unable to make sense of what I saw and heard. The smell of smoke and the haze in the air choked me. Coughing hurt so much I shuddered and cried out each time one claimed me.
Outside the house the air gave me some respite although the noises that bombarded me were almost worse than the heavy smoke.
Explosions came from several places around us causing Sweet to pause and duck behind large objects.
I heard the sound of helicopter blades overhead, the whop, whop, whop making my weak body vibrate.
I forced my eyes to open and saw the dense smoke in the air, the copters hovering over us and bodies lying all over ground that was torn completely to bits, dirt churned up by explosives and mixed with random pieces the bodies were missing.
“Andrei!” Damien was screaming from far away.
***
I didn’t receive a full accounting of what occurred for three weeks.
Doc insisted I remain in the hospital for the first week, then refused to allow me to do my duty for another two.
Only Zoe was allowed to see me, and she didn’t know anymore than me.
She’d been sheltered while she was healing as well.
Her throat had swollen to the point she required medical evaluations to exclude tracheal injuries requiring surgery. Even after three weeks she still had a raspy voice and some pain, but we talked and tried to piece together our impressions of what exactly happened.
The tear in my spleen had caused a severe blood loss and my kidneys were bruised. The kick to my throat hadn’t been nearly as bad as Zoe’s strangulation.