51. Evelyn
That smell.
What was it?
Gasoline? Alcohol?
No, it was vomit. Mine?
I reached up to touch the back of my head, or I tried to. My arms were bound behind me, and when I attempted to sit up, my legs were likewise roped. I was hogtied.
Jimmy had found me, and my guts churned, looking around for him.
He hid in the dark, and my gaze rose to the umbral moon.
There wasn’t any time left. I had to detonate the bomb before they discovered the children were missing and sent guards out to search for them.
How long was I out? Five minutes, maybe?
Did they already know the kids were missing? Was that the sound of them, searching? There were voices, gunshots in the distance. I couldn’t pinpoint the location, because the cliffs and the forest distorted distance.
I felt the detonator strapped to my thigh.
“Are you there?” My earpiece crackled. It must’ve gotten damaged when I fell. Could Laszlo hear me? Was he out of the mansion yet?
Jimmy thought I was talking to him, and he stalked into my peripheral. He had aged terribly. Red hair had thinned, and when he gave me a sickening smile, there was a gap in his front tooth.
“Oh, I’m right here,” Jimmy growled, all menace. “And finally, we’re all alone. No guards, no faggy husband.”
Aleksei and Ilya had been my guardians since before we got married, and anytime I wasn’t at the manor or with Laszlo, they were there until tonight. Laszlo said we couldn’t bring our own security, but they’d been keeping me safe. I was glad we wrote them into our wills.
“A whole lotta protection for one stupid bitch.”
Jimmy was maniacal, a blade in his hand. He was missing two fingers.
It was the worst thing to do. It was! But I had nearly wet myself with fear, had spent days steeped in adrenaline and cortisol. Laszlo could be trapped in the mansion, caught while trying to steal the Bratva’s computer files.
I was terrified.
My anxiety decided at that moment to manifest in the worst way possible.
I laughed.
Jimmy the Crab was missing his middle and index finger. He had pincers!
My abs ached as the laugh took over me, controlling me as if I were a woman possessed.
He kicked me in the stomach, and my body tried to buckle and protect my soft innards, but the rope kept me in place.
“I never liked you. Small little titties. Even now,” he sneered, and my blood boiled. “Makes sense you’d marry a faggot. Probably has you fuck him up his ass, huh? Pretend you’re a little boy?”
It had been such a long time since I was in the presence of men like him that I’d forgotten how visceral my disgust was. It was a distraction I couldn’t afford.
“Then why do you have me trussed up like a pig, huh?”
His fist grabbed my turtleneck, hoisting me to my knees. He spat on my face, and I laughed again, wiggling my arms behind my back. The rope was cheap, plastic, cutting into my wrists, but I needed to build some slack.
“Pathetic. You saw Laszlo’s big cock, and you wanted it for yourself! That’s all you’ve been thinking about. That’s why I’m tied up. I’m not your fucking victim, I’m the bait!”
It didn’t matter if I thought that was true or not. I needed him off balance. Pissed off. He was sloppy when he was mad, and he tossed me to the ground, hard, and I rolled onto my side.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jimmy stood over me, looking down. “You know, you can actually thank him for helping me out tonight. He had a little tracker put on you, and us cops? We get all kinda goodies for finding the bad guys.”
He was gloating, buying me time.
“Go find yourself, then,” I hissed.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he said, licking his lips.
“Funny, me too.” A branch stabbed at my hip. I shimmied up higher. Jimmy grabbed me, dragged me back down.
“You fucking cunt. I’ll show you.” His hands went to his belt buckle, and vomit rose in my throat. All this time, all this planning, of working with Laszlo, laundering money with gemstones, searching for signs of his sister’s body or the Vasilyev Bratva’s connection to the occult.
I’d been so worried about Laszlo’s death, I forgot my own was a possibility.
Worse than death.
He stank of decay, his body closing in on mine. I squirmed away, desperate to escape him, but he kept pace with me. His fingers gripped my thigh, an inch from the detonator, and I screamed.
That was what he was hoping for.
Where was Laszlo?
Was he safe?
My heart seized as Jimmy’s hand dragged lower, finding the device strapped to my thigh.
“The hell is this,” he asked, squeezing the detonator too hard. The air exploded in fire. “What the fuck?!” Jimmy jerked, looking over his shoulder, through the skeletal trees, to the fire rising over the mansion.
Laszlo! Pain, hotter and more potent than anything I’d felt, sliced through my heart. I was cleaved in twain, as if my soul had been ripped from me. Tears burned in my eyes, ran hot down my cheeks.
There was no response from him in my earpiece, but he wanted me to survive tonight, and I would. Adrenaline kicked in. My motions quickened, and at the edge of my fingertips, I found the edge of the rope.
“What the fuck was that?!”
Jimmy started forward, then stopped, looking back at me.
“What did you do?”
The night was growing darker. The moon was almost the shade of a ruby, the eclipse nearly total.
My hair was wild around my shoulders, catching the red of the moon, the fire of the first explosion. I kept working my hands, building up the slack in my slender wrists. My pain warped itself into a sick smile, stained with tears and snot.
“Someone had to stop the psychopaths like you, Jimmy.”
“Psychopath? You don’t know anything. I’m a fucking cop you spoiled cunt.”
He stalked towards me, but the second explosion was bigger. Much bigger. The mine beneath the mansion had more volatile chemicals than I could have brought with me, and the earth shook with the power.
It threw him to the ground, and in a few breaths, my arms were free.
He was trying to scramble back up, but I hurled myself on top of him, stealing the air from his lungs.
A blade glinted in my hand, and I brought it down, severing his carotid artery.
I didn’t stop.
He was much bigger than me, and the cruelty that he could inflict was too much to risk. No one would miss him. No one’s life would be worse without him. He didn’t take my virginity, but he stole the last shred of my innocence and na?veté.
And then he killed my husband.
The only man who ever loved me.
I screamed, the sound raw and guttural, from the most primal parts, as my soul ripped apart at the loss. I was pitiless as I took his life, his words from the Gilt and Gloam echoing in my skull.
“He did get me warmed up for you in the end! He fucking got me warmed up in the end! How’s that feel, Jimmy?! You like that? I know how to wield it, huh?” Blood sprayed my face, my hair, as I brought the knife down over and over again.
His face was pulp, his throat severed, and still, I didn’t stop. I was a murderer, now. Those explosions were because of me.
Because I had to do something to protect the innocence that remained in this world. Because they were evil.
I escaped a cult, entered a den of sinners, and found a love I didn’t know could exist.
But Caleb was right about one thing. The world was a dangerous place.
I’d made it a little safer.
Blood stained my lips, and I smiled.