Chapter 45 Nicolò
Nicolò
“Let’s split.” I glance across the three men. “Ready?”
They each nod and we move, quietly separating. Benny and Augie circle round the back, while Cristiano and I move through the trees to the front.
The cold bites at my face, my breath fogging in the air.
Then, movement from the front of the cabin stills my limbs.
One of the guards turns, a cigarette ember glowing in the crisp night.
I turn my back to the building, pressing into it close, while Cristiano steps out, a silencer primed on the barrel of his pistol.
One ffp and the guard’s down. The other guy hasn’t even noticed.
I leave him to Cristiano as well, while I steal my way through the door into the cabin.
The first thing I hear is a Russian voice.
I don’t understand the words but the tone isn’t hard to read.
They’re pissed we haven’t responded and they’re considering their next steps.
If I were standing in their shoes, my next move would be to torture the victim.
But if I reach Bambalina and find she’s been hurt, I’ll rip out their jugulars and throw them on a fucking barbeque while their bodies fit in shock.
I slip behind a door and peer through the gap. There she is. My girl. My beautiful girl.
She’s covered in blankets but I catch a glimpse of her pajama shorts—she must be freezing.
My gaze scours over her half-naked form, the rage that they carried her small body here building inside me like an inferno.
Her head is lolled to one side but she doesn’t look hurt—she just looks pale and drained of blood.
A vitriolic roar gathers in the base of my stomach.
I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold it in, but I need to know how many men are in the room—how many we have to end to get her out of here unscathed.
“Ublyúdok.” The Russian insult smacks against my ear as a pistol presses up against the back of my head.
Ah shit.
I sense from his excited breaths he wants to have a little chat and a gloat before he drops me to the floor, but as much as I would love to stay and play, I don’t have the time nor the patience for games.
So, tilting the gun in my hand toward the assailant’s body, I fire a silenced bullet through his genitals.
I turn a touch to listen for the sound of his squeal as my full metal jacket disables his dick.
Bending to pick up his dropped gun, I lightly pat his cheek. “Just wait until the infection spreads, asshole,” I wink. “You’ll be begging me to kill you.”
I step over his writhing body to enter the room where Lina is being held, but the sound of a soldier who just lost his manhood has alerted two more. They’re standing either side of her, arms outstretched, pistols primed.
Chaos swells. Augie and Benito burst into the room from the back, raining bullets down on the two men. They must be wearing bullet-proof vests because they don’t fall.
They don’t fucking fall.
They turn around and war breaks out between Benito, Augie and the two men. Gunfire shakes the building, splintered wood falls down around us.
I rush to Bambalina and lift her chin. She’s blue. She’s fucking blue. I press two fingers to her pulse and thank God she’s alive.
“Cristiano!” I yell. I need help.
He reaches me, keeping one ear on Benito giving chase outside.
“I need to get her off this chair.”
He whips out a pocket knife and slices through the tapes and ropes binding her to the chair and she falls forward.
“Lina... I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
She stirs, a faint sound slipping from her throat. Her eyelashes flutter, and for one blissful second I think she’s going to collapse into me.
But the moment her eyes focus, everything breaks.
She startles violently, shoving at me with bound hands. Then she scrambles backward until she hits the wall with a choked cry.
“N-no—Stay away from me, Nicolò—” Her voice cracks. “You lied to me,” she chokes out. “Why did you lie to me?”
I take a step forward but her eyes whiten, terrifying me. What have they done to her?
“You lied!” she repeats. “You killed them. Dario and Alessio. You killed them both.”
Breath freezes in my lungs. I was going to tell her. I was going to break it to her when we were out of this madness, when things had finally settled and I could explain. I didn’t want her to find out like this.
I try to keep my voice steady. “You always knew who I was, Lina. You knew I was a made man. We do what we have to do.”
Her bound hands are shaking and her teeth are clattering against each other. The blankets fell when she struggled to get away from me, and now she’s freezing.
“But… you could have told me, and you didn’t. You had the chance to be honest with me, and you lied. What else have you lied about, Nicolò?”
My breath feels jagged. “Nothing, Lina. I haven’t lied about anything else, I promise you. And I only let you believe I hadn’t killed them because you were in such a vulnerable place.”
Her top lip curls, viciously. “Are you saying I’m weak?”
“No,” I almost laugh. “Fuck no. You’re the strongest person I know.”
More shouts echo from outside among the trees, but I force my focus to Lina. She’s the only one who matters right now.
“Listen to me.” I reach for her slowly, my palms opened, showing her I’m not a threat. “I did what I had to do to keep you safe,” I say, my voice rasping.
She flinches away and her breathing speeds up, her panic spiraling. She pushes harder against the wall, as if she can disappear into it. The distance she’s trying to put between us feels worse than a bullet.
“Please Lina,” I beg. “I’m not your enemy.”
“You should have let them keep me,” she chokes out. “At least then no one else would die because of me.”
Something shatters inside my ribcage. “Don’t you dare say that,” I breathe.
But she shuts her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks, and I know she’s not hearing me anymore. Panic and trauma have swallowed her whole.
I gather her carefully, ignoring her weak fists pushing at my chest, and lift her into my arms. She’s shaking so hard she feels weightless.
“I’m getting you out of here,” I whisper against her hair. “And when you’re safe, when you can breathe again, you can scream at me, hate me, walk away from me forever if that’s what you want. But right now? I’m not losing you.”
I hold her tight and carry her into the darkness, my heart cracking with every broken breath she takes.
I open the back door of the car and lay her gently on the seat. She’s so cold she’s going to get hypothermia. In a panic, I breathe hotly into my palms then scrub my hands up and down her flesh, trying to get her blood circulating.
“Lina,” I whisper, urgently. “Stay awake, baby. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Don’t fall asleep.”
I keep rubbing my hands over her, and just when I think it isn’t going to work, her head moves, rolling weakly on the seat.
“Nicolò—”
I rush toward her face, cupping it in my hands. “Oh God, baby, you’re okay, I’ve got you.”
“Nicolò, I—”
Despite everything, I kiss her softly on the lips. She’s still fucking freezing and I’ve got to find a way to warm her up.
“Shh. Don’t talk. You need your energy. We can talk soon. I need to get you warm.”
I look around the car for anything I can use—a discarded sweater, anything. Then I curse myself for being the neat freak I am. Then I remember the trunk. I always keep a blanket in the trunk. It’s handy for concealing firearms. And shovels.
“Wait here.”
I back out of the door and pop open the trunk.
A rush of relief floods through me—right beneath a box of ammo is a blanket.
Keeping one ear on the shouting beyond the cabin, I yank the blanket until it comes free.
Then the sound of a gun being cocked mere feet from where I’m standing draws my gaze around the edge of the trunk.
One of the two remaining men is standing over the passenger door with the barrel of a fucking Makarov pistol pointing at my girl.
I don’t recognize my voice through a bass as deep as hell. “Get away from her. Now.”
He turns slowly, a thickly arrogant smile twisting his lips. Concealed behind the car, I reach for my pistol, but it’s not there. It’s not in my pants where I’d jammed it.
My chest implodes.
I left it on the seat next to Lina.
Time slows to a satanic beat. I could launch myself at him, wrap my hands around his throat and snap his neck, but his finger is poised. He could shoot before my feet even leave the ground.
The only thing I can do is buy time until Cristiano or Benito or Augie comes around the side of the cabin and sees what’s happening.
“Are you deaf?” I taunt.
A low, barbaric chuckle throbs in his chest.
“It is you,” he says, a twinkle appearing in his eye.
Then I realize who this is. It’s Mikhail Orlov, the Russian whose bare ass was caught on camera being defiled by a young man, a leather studded collar and a whip.
“Yes it is,” I smile. “I almost didn’t recognize you in clothes.”
My bravado is light but my muscles are heavy. He doesn’t know I’m unarmed—I need to keep it that way.
“Why don’t you put that down so I don’t have to blow your entire head off?” I say, the rage too hot to care that Lina might hear.
“This is your woman, no?” he asks, pleasantly.
I cock my head in a question.
“Ending her will end you, yes?” His pleasant smile falls to a ruthless sneer. “And you know, I really want to end you.”
“So your dirty little secret doesn’t get out? Killing me won’t stop that from happening. I’m not the one with the files. The second you kill me, those files will fly around the city faster than your boss can wipe his ass.”
His features sharpen, a deathly glare boring from his eyes into mine.
“Why are you doing it, huh?” I ask. I mean, I may as well seeing as he’s here. “Why are you so hellbent on taking Manhattan? What does Morozov want?”
His lips curl into a taunting sneer. “Morozov wants America,” he replies smoothly. “And he will get it.”