Chapter 23
Sevastyan
I shoot to my feet, the delicious meal forgotten as I watch Victor’s body language change.
He’s trapped, but while the men who snuck into our home under the guise of renovators aren’t here for him, they will not hesitate to use him against me.
No matter how much he assures them he doesn’t know where I went, they’ll try to torture him for information.
Sweat beads on my back, cold as ice, but despite knowing I need to intervene before they attempt to pry my location out of Victor, an eerie calm washes over me. This time, I will not fail.
This time, I will keep us both safe.
This home was designed to keep out intruders. Maybe it’s time to use it to its full potential.
Thinking on my feet, I switch on the defence systems and lean forward, trying to make sure I understand where the two other bastards are.
Once I establish their location, a wide grin emerges on my face, because beyond the corner is a trap I’d believed to be lost to me, but its sorry state might just give me the advantage I need .
I open the floor, watching the lid roll over the rotting corpse neither I nor Victor bothered to remove from the spikes. It looks disgusting even in black and white. I don’t want to imagine how it must smell now that the compartment is no longer sealed.
I get a kick out of the terrified faces, as the two back away, mouths wide open, yelling something. Only then they let me nudge them right into my actual trap.
As soon as they turn the corner, I press the button and a barrage of metal bolts shoots at them from tiny crevices in the wall.
The same kind that injured Victor’s leg.
One of them goes through the first goon’s head, so that’s a pretty merciful death, while the other intruder ends up on the floor from the impact of the bolts piercing his body.
He’s still alive, crawling desperately, but a bolt’s gone through his neck.
It won’t be long now, and I have bigger fish to fry.
The goon who holds his knife to my Victor’s head must have heard the screams, because he’s shouting now, arm tight around my man’s throat as he hesitates, unsure whether he should check what’s happened to his friends, stand his ground, or run.
He would be wise to do the latter, but the people who come after me are never smart enough to see their limitations.
I grab my Glock from its place on the wall and quickly check if it’s loaded, because I’m so fucking done with this bullshit.
It’s one thing when the assassins target me, but they should know better than to put their dirty paws on my partner.
Victor is a pure soul, and while he was comfortable enough dealing with bodies, he is a stranger to violence. I hear his cries as soon as I leave my hiding spot. I will have no mercy for this last fucker.
“No, please! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Take anything you want, but I’m just a housekeeper! ”
Not giving me away even now, bless his soul.
He would eventually break under torture, because few men wouldn’t, but I won’t let it come to that.
“Do you take me for an idiot?” the bastard roars, a hysterical edge to his voice. “Whatever he’s paying you, it’s not worth the pain I’m going to put you through if you don’t start talking!”
I run up the stairs, toward the noise, and yet, the odor of rot is so intense I can feel it coating the inside of my lungs. That’s a concern for later.
After taking a glimpse at the two fallen goons, I step into one of the spare rooms and grab the edge of a large painting, which secretly doubles as a handle. The wall is movable here, and I step straight into an adjacent room, which will take me where I want to be.
My heart is racing, but my hand remains steadier than ever.
I don’t hesitate. There’s no room for mistakes when a gun is inches from Victor. If I give the intruder a few seconds too many, he will use my beloved as a hostage.
Just as the fake carpenter turns his head, I step through a gap between movable walls and press the barrel of my gun against it.
A loud bang resonates in the room, Victor falls back with a scream, and bits of gray matter land on the wall. The intruder collapses when I’m just a few paces away from Victor.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” I whisper softly, pulling him to my chest while the fresh blood drizzles down the wall. I’m so pumped with adrenaline I hardly register pain in my hand, but now it comes back in the trigger finger. I ignore it after a deep breath. Holding Victor is more important.
He grips me with a stifled sob. “Oh God, Seva. There’s two more of them. I heard screams. Are they—”
“Yes, I handled it. ”
Victor is shaking nevertheless. “He wanted to know where you are, but I wouldn’t tell him.”
“I know.” I put the Glock down on the side table and cup his tear-stained face, wiping off the moisture with my thumbs. “We take care of each other. This won’t happen again.”
I’m alarmed when he nods but won’t meet my eyes. He doesn’t believe me. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.
Victor presses his face against my solar plexus. “M-maybe I should practice more self-defence.”
It’s a handy skill for anyone to have, but I have to face the reality that he’s not made for that. He’s a sensitive, passionate man with his nose either in books, a painting, or my pubes. The definition of a lover not a fighter. I can’t keep putting him through this.
The decision I couldn’t bring myself to make for years settles on me like fresh snow, and I feel content with it. “Pack one bag. We’re leaving.”
He looks up at me like a startled deer. “What? Did you get some alert? Are more threats coming?”
I frown and rub my thumb along the shallow indentation the knife made in his skin. “ This was enough. You were right, the assassins will just keep coming until one of us is dead. I’m done.”
My decision solidifies when I see the hope in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his bloodstained face. “Are you sure? Where will we go?”
So many options are available, because yes, as long as I cover our tracks and live under the radar, the burns on my face will make me difficult to recognize already, but I might as well invest in changing my features so I don’t need to hide in a fortress.
It’s also the end of my career as Sevastyan, but I’m strangely at peace with that.
I already lost so much of that old work in the fire, and I’ve outgrown those paintings since Victor infused my art with a new life. It’s time for change.
But I’m scared.
Somehow, I’m scared more than I ever was of invaders in this closed, controlled environment, and if I don’t leave now, I might change my mind and retreat to the panic room.
“I’m not sure, but we still need to go. We’ll board a shipping vessel and see where it can take us.”
Victor grabs my wrist and squeezes there to not hurt my fingers. Even now, he’s so caring. “Let’s do this. I love you.”
The encouragement is like air to me. I’ve had the escape plan built into the house, so I know how to make our first move. I have bank accounts in several countries, and some cash to get us started.
I can do this. We can do this, because if I weaken, he will be there to support me.
“One bag. Remember to take at least one change of clothes,” I tell him and lean in to kiss those beautiful lips.
Victor makes it last longer, tongue licking into my mouth, but then he pulls away and nods. I follow him, because my go-bag is already in the panic room.
It’s strange how this place I cherished and designed and furnished is so easy to let go of when I’m not leaving alone.
“Oh, fuck! It stinks. Is that—yep.” Victor gags a little. “Should we deal with it now?”
“No need,” I tell him and shield his eyes as we pass the three dead bodies. I don’t want him suffering from nightmares while we’re on the move. “This house is the ultimate trap. Nobody will find us.”
He doesn’t ask, he just trusts me. I let him look once we approach the studio. Victor pulls his hair into the tightest bun he can force his curls into. He means business. He grabs a duffel bag, and when I confirm that it’s an okay size, he puts in… my latest sketchbook? And then his own?
“Baby… essentials,” I say and approach the cage attached to the wall. Ratimir isn’t here, but I’ve trained him well, and when I ring a bell, his arrival becomes only a matter of time. The small transporter is ready to go. All I need to do is fill the water bottle attached to it.
Victor gives me a forlorn glance. “I’ll fit in some clothes too, but how are we supposed to leave all this behind?” He points at the canvas I started lately in an attempt to try larger-scale painting instead of focusing on the detailed work that’s given me so much grief.
I suppose one sketchbook each might not hurt. We will have a lot of time on our hands on the ship, without much in terms of entertainment on board.
It’s a bit of a frenzy, but half an hour later we’re ready to go, and I’m about to lead him away when my gaze settles on the stairs leading to the studio.
Cursing, I leave Victor behind and pop inside, returning with the small painting I did of him after we fucked for the first time.
I know I could make another, but a part of me worries I might never capture quite the same mood as I did on this particular canvas, and that means it needs to come with us.
“Ready?” I ask, urging him to the lowest floor in the building.
“ That’s the one you choose?” Victor smiles with a little flush.
His question throws me off guard, but I continue leading the way. “It’s one of my best. And dear to me for personal reasons.”
“You’re sweeter than you let on.” Victor gives me a kiss when we stop but then looks around. “Where are we going exactly? ”
“I can be very, very sweet,” I agree and use my security monitor. It’s likely to be one of the last times, yet it doesn’t feel like a waste.
Victor stiffens when the low wall under the stairs comes forward, revealing the crawlspace beyond it.
I kneel and pull the door open all the way. “Follow me.”