40. Rafi
40
RAFI
T he air inside the armored car is thick with unspoken words and simmering tension. The hum of the engine provides a monotonous backdrop, but it can’t drown out the storm raging in my head. Death is a strange thing. It sneaks up on you, strips you bare, and leaves you standing in a void, unprepared for the gaping hole it creates. I’ve felt it before—the loss, the emptiness—but nothing compares to the idea of losing someone you truly love.
Well, maybe one death prepared me: my mother’s.
She deserved what she got, and even now, I think she got off too easy. If I’d been in that room instead of Scar, I wouldn’t have stopped. The knife would’ve found its mark again and again, each stab a cathartic release of all the hatred she planted in us. And if I could’ve brought her back just to torment her all over again, I wouldn’t have hesitated. My memories of her are fragmented—shards of a broken mirror I never want to piece together. She left when I was too young to fully understand her cruelty, but the stories my brothers told were enough. What little memories I had were enough. The pain she caused us was enough. Anyone who hurts my brothers deserves to rot in hell, and that’s exactly where she is right now.
I glance out the window at the blur of the landscape, the horizon stretching endlessly before us. Another hour to the private airstrip. Another hour of waiting, of hoping, of replaying every moment that has brought us here. The caravan moves steadily, three armored cars in a tight formation. Not as intimidating as the tanks we used at the Vicci compound, but still enough to withstand an ambush. I hope. There’s no point in coming this far if we can’t dodge a few flying bullets.
My brothers have always been my center, my reason. Losing one of them would feel like someone has ripped a part of my soul out and left me bleeding. Over the past few months, that circle has grown. Kanyan, ever the overprotective big brother figure, always hovering, always watching. Jayson and Mason, dependable as the sun rising—if there’s a fight, they’re in it, no questions asked. Even the boys from Seattle, with their sharp minds and sharper wit. These men, these women, all of them have become an integral part of me.
And then there’s Tayana.
The part of me I underestimated. I never even saw her coming, and now when I think about her, it’s like my heart does a rapid backflip and tries to keep up with itself but fails spectacularly.
She slipped into my life when I wasn’t looking, when I wasn’t ready, and yet she feels like she’s always been here. Now, she’s more than family. She’s the piece of me I didn’t know I was missing. I can’t imagine a life without her by my side. I won’t. The alternative doesn’t exist in my world.
Mason’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Have you given much thought to what your future looks like?”
I turn to glance at him, sitting in the back seat with his usual smirk, though it is tempered with genuine curiosity. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Kanyan, behind the wheel, roll his eyes but say nothing. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles pale against his skin.
“What are you trying to do?” I ask, my tone sharper than he’s used to hearing. “Distract me from the fact that we’re driving into hell?”
Mason shrugs, unbothered. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just curious. We’ve all been playing this long game for months. Once it’s over, what then?”
I shake my head, not in denial, but because I don’t have an answer. Not yet. “We’re not there yet, Mason. This isn’t a happy-ending mission. We can’t go in with fuzzy feelings. We need to go in as monsters—cold, ruthless, ready to burn the place down if we have to.”
His smirk fades, and he leans back, crossing his arms. “Fair enough. But you might want to start thinking about it. Because even monsters have an expiration date.”
The words settle uncomfortably in the air between us. Maybe he’s right, but that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is getting to Maxine, finishing what we started, and bringing Tayana back home where she belongs.
Because there’s no scenario, no future, where we go back home without them.
There’s a quaint charm about the hotel lobby when we step inside. The female concierge stands stiffly behind the counter, her neatly pressed uniform matching her rigid demeanor. She refuses to answer our questions, and she barely glances up as I slide my phone across the counter, the screen displaying pictures of Maxine and Tayana.
“You just missed them,” she says flatly, her lips pressing into a tight line.
Her eyes dart to the photo again, but her expression remains neutral, practiced. She’s good at this—too good. “I can’t give you any more information about paying customers,” she adds, her tone clipped.
My jaw tightens, but before I can push further, Mason steps forward. “At least tell us how many people they were with,” he says, his voice calm but edged with urgency.
The woman hesitates, her eyes flicking to a man seated at the far end of the counter. He’s older, with graying hair and a slightly rumpled uniform, and he exhales heavily before speaking up.
“Just the one,” he says, shooting her an irritated look. “You’re not going to get rid of them if you don’t give them what they want.”
The concierge stiffens but doesn’t argue.
The man turns to Kanyan, who stands beside me like a coiled spring, ready to snap. “Tall, good-looking Russian,” the man says, his tone bored, as if this isn’t the most important thing happening to him today.
A spark of frustration flares in Kanyan’s eyes, but I jump in before things go south. “Did they seem distressed to you?”
The man shakes his head slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “No, not distressed. Maybe a little... uncomfortable. But they were walking side by side, not like someone was being dragged or anything. They took their luggage and checked out.”
His words hit like a punch to the gut. Tayana was walking alongside Igor. Walking. Not running. Not fighting. What does this mean?
I force a nod of thanks and turn away, motioning for Mason and Kanyan to follow. We step back into the cold air outside, the bright sunlight doing nothing to warm the knot of unease tightening in my stomach.
“They’re leaving the country,” I say, more to myself than anyone else. “Igor wouldn’t check out otherwise.”
Without missing a beat, I pull out my phone and dial Leo’s number. The line barely rings before he picks up.
“Leo,” I say quickly, “I need you to tap into the feed from the nearby airfield. Check for anything unusual.”
“I’m on it,” he says, his tone brisk and focused.
We pile back into the car, Kanyan behind the wheel again. The engine roars to life and we’re moving, weaving through traffic as if speed alone can close the widening gap between us and Igor.
The Bluetooth crackles, and Leo’s voice comes through, low and ominous. “Uh-oh.”
My stomach drops. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“There’s a lot of movement at the airstrip,” Leo says carefully, each word measured. “And it looks like you have company.”
“Fucking get to the point, Leo!” Kanyan roars, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
Leo doesn’t miss a beat. “They’re not just preparing to leave. There’s another group there. Armed. And they don’t look friendly.”
A tense silence fills the car, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the distant honking of horns.
“What kind of group?” I ask, my voice sharp, my mind racing.
“I’m using infra-red, Rafi. I can’t see much past moving dots. Could be waiting for Igor, or they might be working for him. But there’s some heavy armor there.”
My chest tightens. It doesn’t look like Igor is just planning an escape. It looks like he’s setting the stage for a bloodbath.
“Can we intercept?” Mason asks, his voice steady despite the tension.
Leo hesitates. “You’ll be cutting it close. They’re fueling up, but it won’t take long. If you’re going to make a move, you need to do it now.”
“Do something, Leo. We’re ten minutes out.”
“Dude, I’m more than an hour out!” he reminds me, his voice echoing in the chamber of the vehicle.
“Can’t you run interference or something? I know you’ve done it before.”
Like the time you were pissed off at me and messed with my GPS, bringing my car to a standstill in the middle of nowhere, you asshole.
“Let me see what I can do,” he says, killing the line as I meet Kanyan’s eyes.
He gives me a sharp nod, his foot pressing harder on the accelerator as we fly through the streets at breakneck speed.
I lean back, the weight of the situation settling over me like a shroud. Every second counts now. Maxine and Tayana are there, somewhere in the chaos, about to board a plane to God knows where. I won’t leave without them. Whatever Igor has planned, whatever forces he’s marshaled against us, we’ll face them head-on.
Because there is no other option.