Chapter 7
Kaz
To say I was impressed was an understatement—thirteen Russians taken down by what looked like a single person.
There was no useful information at the house, no sign of Katherine, nothing except for the damaged doors upstairs. Clearly, they were holding something—or someone.
“Selene made contact,” Keir says, staring at his phone.
“What did she say?” Dario rushes over, eyes wild.
“It just says to call if we’re still in Vegas and require assistance.”
“Then why the hell are you just staring at your phone? Call her!” This kid is like a damn dog—way too excited.
I drop onto the couch, crossing my arms as I watch Keir dial.
“Hello! I’m so glad you called.”
My body tenses. That’s not my moon’s voice.
“You’re not Selene,” Keir growls.
“No, my name is Lily Salone. I’m Selene’s partner at Onyx. She’s unfortunately away on business.”
Blyad’. This woman’s voice is way too chipper.
“So, she left knowing she offered us assistance if we needed it?”
I roll my eyes. Of course, my moon is as slippery as these sukin synov we’ve been chasing.
“Well, no. She’s currently off-grid, working on a job.”
Ah. So my milaya likes to get her hands dirty. My lips twitch at the thought.
“Does that mean, as her partner, you can authorize assistance?”
“Oh, absolutely! I’m mostly in charge of her tech division, but she asked me to take over in her absence.”
Clearly, she has never had to deal with Onyx clients—way too much information.
“Then you’re up to date on why we’re here?”
She laughs. “Yes, I’m well informed. I’ve actually started looking into your situation and have some information I could send over—if you have an encrypted phone.”
Keir rolls his eyes. Dario tries not to laugh.
“Of course. Send the file.”
“Okay. Sending it… and sent. If you need anything else, feel free to call.”
She hangs up.
“Well, that went well. At least our girl didn’t forget about us.” Dario grins.
Keir scoffs. “She’s not our girl. She’s just someone we need on our side.”
Ah, but my moon… I feel like she’ll be Keir’s new obsession in no time.
Keir stands and heads to the kitchen table—his makeshift office.
“I’m going through the file. We head out again tonight.”
A clear dismissal. I get up and head to the door. Might as well hit the gym while he works.
? ? ?
When I return, Keir and Dario are gearing up.
“Find something?”
“Just a couple more locations to check out.” Keir hands me his tablet.
I glance at the map—abandoned houses, businesses.
I grunt. That’s a lot more than a couple. But I won’t complain. More fun for me.
“Hopefully, we make it there before our competition,” Dario says, smirking.
“Go get ready, Kaz. We’re heading out soon.”
I grab fresh clothes and head to the bathroom.
Steam fills the room as I turn on the shower and fuck me if I don’t have the urge to spill blood tonight.
It’s been almost a week. The need to cause pain is like an addiction. People call it twisted, but those people have never suffered.
I step under the water, focusing on my breathing—trying to push the memories back.
But one slips through…
“You’ve been a bad boy, Kazimir. Do you want my punishment or Kevin’s?”
My eight-year-old brain was confused. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
But Sophia said I had. She always did when Kevin was away on business.
I hated her punishments. She made me do things I didn’t understand.
I preferred Kevin’s wrath—punches, broken bones, blood.
I shake away the memory before I sink to far into my head.
I scrub my tattooed skin raw—once, twice—until it burns.
It’s never enough.
No matter how hard I scrub, I still feel them on me. The ghosts of their hands, the filth they left behind.
I towel off, get dressed. Tonight, I’ll get my release.
The thought makes my lips twitch—a smile that never quite surfaces.
I step out to find Keir and Dario strapping up—knives, guns, the usual.
“All I’m saying is, we should use knives—see if we’re as skilled as our mystery competitor,” Dario suggests.
Keir scoffs. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m walking into a gunfight with just a couple of knives.”
I grunt in agreement, securing my own arsenal.
“The goal is to take one of them alive, so don’t get too out of hand, Kaz.” Keir’s stern tone almost makes me laugh.
“No killing everyone. Got it.”
Dario’s eyes widen. It is always the same reaction when I actually speak.
“Let’s head out,” Keir says. “I want to go home. Let’s take these fuckers down while we finally can.”
Dario and I nod. We have not been home to Boston in years—too busy chasing this group.
Too busy looking for my half-sister.
We reach another abandoned house—this one much larger than the last. The same eerie atmosphere lingers, but this time, some of the lights are on.
My fingers twitch, eager for pain and bloodshed.
“Let’s move,” Keir murmurs, nodding toward the house as we snake our way up to the side door.
“Oh, come on,” Dario whisper-groans.
Keir and I glance over just in time to see him nudge a body with his boot. Another one.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I swear, if this mystery person keeps interfering, they’ll be the next one I spill the blood of.
“Keep moving,” Keir orders, nodding toward the door.
I enter first, carefully stepping through what appears to be a kitchen. Keir and Dario follow, their footsteps controlled, silent. I listen intently, scanning the sounds of the house.
Then—
Thud.
I freeze. The distinct sound of a body hitting the floor sends a shiver of anticipation through me.
“You fucking bitch!” A man shouts, his heavy Russian accent thick with rage.
I don’t hesitate. My skin tingles with excitement as I move toward the action.
“Here I thought you liked calling me sugarplum.”
My heart stutters.
That voice.
We enter an open area of the house silent and cloaked in the dark, and there she is—standing in the center of the room, surrounded by four Russian men.
Maybe five foot two. Long black hair with blonde streaks at the front. Steel gray eyes.
A man crumpled at her feet.
A sadistic smile on her bruised and bloodied face which makes my cock harden in my pants.
My moon.