Chapter 83
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
Drago
I run to her.
The relief of seeing her standing over Maria hits me so hard it almost drops me to my knees.
She is shaking and crying, the gun still in her hand like she doesn’t even realize she’s holding it.
She’s alive. My girl is alive. My brave girl.
When her eyes lock with mine, my entire world cracks open.
All the steel I’ve been holding myself together with shatters in one brutal second.
I’m across the grass and through the trees before she can blink, my arms going around her, hauling her against my chest like I’m terrified she’ll vanish if I don’t hold on tight enough.
I scoop her into my arms, and I let the tears fall. I don’t even care. I don’t care who sees. I don’t care what it makes me. I only care that she’s here.
“Drago…” she whispers, and it’s broken. Like the name hurts her.
“I’ve got you,” I rasp, pressing my mouth to her hair, her temple, her cheek. Anywhere I can reach. “Fuck. I’ve got you.”
I can’t let go. I don’t ever want to.
Her whole body is trembling, the kind of shake that comes after a trauma so big the mind can’t even process it yet. Her fingers curl in my shirt, trying to anchor herself to me.
I pull back just enough to look at her face, to make sure she’s not bleeding, to make sure her eyes are still hers.
“You did so well, baby,” I whisper, voice cracking. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I kiss her—hard and messy and desperate—because I need her to feel something alive in this moment, something that isn’t blood and fear and death.
She breaks against my mouth. Then she pulls back, eyes wide and glassy and haunted. “I-I killed my mom, Drago. And she said I will be the next Preacher for sacrificing her. Her men might come after me, and make me…”
The words hit her like they’re poisoning her from the inside. Like she thinks she’s crossed a line she can’t uncross.
I shake my head immediately, forcing myself to stay calm for her even though I can feel the monster in me circling behind my ribs, ready to rip the world apart.
I glance past her shoulder at Maria’s body sprawled in the dirt.
And I see it. The smallest rise of her chest. The tiniest movement.
“No, lastochka,” I murmur, my voice low and sure as I look back at Lily. “She’s still breathing. She doesn’t get to win. She doesn’t get to have any power over you ever again. The Preacher dies with her.”
Lily lets out a sob that sounds as if coming from the bottom of her soul, her face twisting in horror, in grief, in relief she doesn’t know she’s allowed to feel.
I tighten my arms around her again, turning her slightly so she can’t see Maria as clearly. So she doesn’t have to watch her mother exist in this half-life.
She doesn’t need that. Not right now. But I do.
Because this woman doesn’t need torturing. She doesn’t deserve redemption. She doesn’t deserve a dramatic speech, a confession, or a chance to explain herself.
She just needs to die.
And as I hold Lily against my chest, her tears soaking into me, I stare at Maria’s body, and I make myself a promise so cold it feels holy.
You touched my girl. You made her bleed inside. You made her pull a trigger with shaking hands. You hurt the man who saved my life. You don’t get to walk away from this.
Not breathing. Not even crawling.
I press my lips to Lily’s forehead, soft as a vow. “I’m here,” I whisper. “You’re safe. I swear to you, you’re safe.”
My eyes never leave Maria.
Because safe doesn’t mean calm. Safe means finished. And I’m about to end this forever.
“Put your hands over your ears and close your eyes, baby,” I tell her, cupping her cheeks.
She sucks in a breath.
“You didn’t kill her, Lily. I did,” I whisper, voice hard but gentle for her. “Let the blood be only on my hands. Let me do this. I make the sacrifice, not you.”
She nods slowly as I release her, her whole body still trembling.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you more.”
She gives me the smallest smile, doing exactly as I say.
I turn my back to her, blocking her view.
And then I spot Lev’s gun on the ground beside Maria’s dying body.
I bend, picking it up, my fingers tighten around the grip. “This one’s for you, old man,” I whisper.
I aim it at her forehead, and I pull the trigger.
Maria jolts once, and then she’s still.
The forest goes quiet again, and even the earth is relieved. “There is no salvation for you,” I spit the words like venom as they leave my mouth.
Then I turn back to Lily, lifting her into my arms and carrying her toward the house.
Conan is guarding the door, his stance wide, rifle raised, eyes sweeping the perimeter like he’s waiting for the next wave.
“Her body’s out there,” I tell him, my voice flat. “Get it to the gates. We end this now.”
Conan nods once. “Finn has taken Lev to his hospital.”
I pretend like my chest isn’t caving in. “Hospital here or—”
“No.” Conan’s jaw flexes. “He needed more than what Finn could do here. Enzo got him enough clearance; they’re on their way now. Everything’s being prepped for him in surgery.”
My stomach sinks.
A sob rips from Lily’s chest, and it nearly splits me in half. “Thank you,” she whispers, voice small.
I carry her inside, avoiding the hallway completely. I want to burn this fucking house.
Burn the images of Lev from my mind. Seeing him like that broke something in me today.
Instead, I take her into the living room and sit on the couch, keeping Lily on my lap like she belongs there. Like she’s the only thing that ever belonged there.
And we just sit in complete silence, holding each other.
“Are you okay, Drago?” she whispers.
I nuzzle my face into her hair. “Better now I have you back in my arms, baby.”
She pulls back, her eyes searching mine, terrified of the answer. “W-what do we do if he dies?”
I choke on a sob and shake my head once, like I can refuse the reality into submission. “We live for him, lastochka,” I tell her, the words scraping out of me. “We leave this life, and we find happiness. Together.”
Tears stream down her cheek, and I can’t stop my own. Seeing her heart break while mine does too.
The only solace is the fact that I have her to hold me together. She leans forward, pressing her forehead against mine, trembling.
Gunshots echo around the perimeter, closer now. More constant. Like thunder, you can’t outrun.
My leg starts to twitch.
“What's going on out there?” she sniffles. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” I whisper into her hair. “Really fucking bad.”
“She told me they have a complex in Ohio. Where they all live, like a community. The gate access code is salvation.” She rambles, the fear bleeding out in her voice.
I let in a shaky breath, leaning back to look at her face.
“We will send some men there, make sure no one else ascends after her. You did so good, baby.”
I bite the inside of my mouth as Conan rushes in, eyes wide, voice clipped. “Drone strikes. We’ve got fucking drones incoming. Enzo is disabling them, but fuck— they’re going all out.” He glances at Lily. “The girls are moving into the underground bunker. We gotta get her down there.”
My hands tighten around her waist. Then I look back at Lily. Her eyes go wide.
“Shit. There is a van parked near the hospital here, that’s where she said they were stationed. The men controlling the drones,” she rushes the words out.
“Pass that on to Enzo, now,” I order Conan.
“I need to go and help them,” I say, my voice rough. “I need to keep you all safe.”
The ground beneath us vibrates.
My head snaps up.
Conan is frozen in the doorway, listening.
A literal fucking bomb just dropped.
“We need to go,” I rush out.
“We’ve got an armored truck outside,” Conan says, already moving.
I cup Lily’s face and press my lips to hers, slow and deep and desperate. Like if I don’t, I won’t survive walking away.
“I love you, Lily,” I whisper.
She grabs my shirt, eyes burning.
“Come back to me. Please. Drago. I can’t do this on my own.”
She sobs against me, and I hold her tight. Trying to fucking breathe through the pain.
“I will,” I promise. I have to. “This is the last fucking time, lastochka. Then we’re free. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
She nods, swallowing another sob.
In my ear, Enzo’s voice snaps through the comms.
“Drago. You’ve got five approaching the gates on your side of the estate. Frankie and his men are holding it down. They need help.”
“Copy,” I bite out.
I guide Lily toward the hallway.
“Lily, let's go!” Conan shouts.
I lead her through the corridor and place her into the truck, my hands lingering on her hips like I can’t let go.
“Look after my girl,” I tell Conan as he gets in the driver’s seat.
“I will.”
As they pull out of the drive, I turn and run upstairs, trying to ignore the blood on the floor, trying to ignore the images clawing at my skull.
I head straight to the panic room. I grab a semi-automatic. Some knives. Extra mags.
I am not dying today.
“The Preacher is dead,” I tell Enzo through the earpiece, voice like stone.
As I head outside, it’s like stepping into an active warzone. Gunfire. Smoke. Men shouting. Explosions ripping through the air. Sirens blaring somewhere distant, useless.
“We’ve taken advantage,” Enzo says. “No more fucking drones will get through.”
This has Tatiana written all over it.
I scan the perimeter, rifle raised, body steady.
They came to my house. They touched my family.
We need to show them their God is dead.