Chapter 18 #2
“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Just keep your eyes on me. It won’t hurt, I promise,” Owen soothed me, tears falling onto his cheeks.
I tried to nod at him, my mind going still as I kept his gaze. I felt the slight shift and increase in pressure as Vlad pressed against the trigger. My eyes fluttered shut, bracing for death.
My first thought was of Rach, and how my death would crush her.
She didn’t deserve to go through all this again.
I wished I had listened to that little voice screaming at me not to climb through that window.
Now Rachel and my parents would pay the price.
And Owen. He didn’t deserve to die. He deserved a long, happy life with someone who loved him as fiercely as I knew he was capable of.
But not me. He deserved more than I was capable of giving.
My devil had made sure to leave me too ruined for a happily ever after with someone as special as Owen.
That devil’s painfully familiar laugh rang clear in my mind. I smiled through the tears, my heart squeezing. “Grayson,” I whispered, warmth spreading through my body.
It was done. I must be dead.
“Looky here! Everyone who wants me dead in one room.” Another laugh. “The Russian mob, the little witch…” he counted off. “How special you make me feel.”
My eyes snapped open and found a pair of dark, twisted eyes, staring at me. My breathing stopped. His eyes bored into mine, reaching down into the dark depths where my soul used to be.
Grayson blinked and a cold smirk spread across his stunning face. “Not exactly what I expected… I thought you’d be working together, not killing each other, but go on. Less enemies for me,” he shrugged, sauntering to the couch.
He was dressed in complete black, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and his sleeves rolled up, completely at ease.
But I knew better. His jacket on, would be a hindrance if he had to fight, but like this, it was a weapon.
And by the hellfire burning in his eyes, he was itching for a fight. He was craving the release.
“Grayson,” Gemma warned, and my heart soared at the sound of her voice. She walked over to me in quick strides. “Let her go,” she said to Vlad, her voice icy cold, threatening violence.
Vlad didn’t respond.
“Ah, Grayson Varon. Still no manners, I see. Did your mother not teach you to knock?” Michael jabbed, through a clenched jaw as he watched Grayson make himself comfortable on the couch.
“Haven’t you heard? She died when I was young. There’s lots of things she didn’t get to teach me.”
Volkov turned his face away from Grayson, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of him. “Why did you crawl out of your hiding hole?”
Grayson laughed. “I never hide. I’m right here, pakhan.” He threw his arms wide. “Waiting. It’s a shame the rest of the world is filled with cowards,” Grayson spat.
Volkov’s face went bloodred. Whatever the hell they were talking about; it really pissed Volkov off, and his reaction made Grayson’s eyes sparkle.
So it seemed they weren’t really working together as we had thought. Volkov hated Grayson.
“Enough, Grayson! Call your dog off, Volkov. Right now,” Gemma warned.
Michael looked between us and raised a brow at Grayson in question.
Grayson only shrugged. “Kill the bitch, I don’t care.”
Searing pain shot through my chest. Why did I expect anything else? Why did it still hurt so much to hear him say such things? I already knew he never cared for me. But gods!
“No!” Gemma stepped forward, and I could feel her pressing against Vlad’s arm. “Grayson, please!”
“You son of a bitch!” Owen sneered at Grayson, struggling against the man restraining him.
“I’ll do anything.” Gemma’s voice broke.
Grayson rolled his eyes. “Fine. Volkov, call off your man. Gem, here, has a bit of a girl crush on the redhead.”
“That’s not your call to make, Varon. Candice stabbed one of my men, therefore she has to die. You of all people should know the laws.”
Grayson inspected the guy slumped against the wall, clutching at his neck where the pen was still sticking out. He laughed loudly, his eyes sparkling. “She’s a feisty little thing, isn’t she? Gave me this.” He pointed at the scars over his eye.
It had healed into two thin, white lines, slashing through his eyebrow, over his lid and under his eye.
“And it is my call to make.” A calculated smile formed onto his lips. I followed his gaze to Michael Volkov’s chest. A small red dot glowed over his heart. “Predlagayu vam posidet' spokoyno,” Grayson whispered smugly to Volkov.
That must be where Hunter was. He was the best shot out of all of them.
Volkov’s face went even redder as the rage rolled off him in almost palpable waves of smoke.
He was silent for a second then gestured to his men and they lifted their guns aiming at Grayson’s and Gemma’s heads.
“Well now your shooter will have to choose who to shoot. Me or one of my men holding a gun to your heads. Who will they save?” Volkov laughed. “This is still my house,” he sneered.
Grayson only smiled, not a care in the world. “You think little old you can outsmart me? Don't flatter yourself, pakhan.”
I yelped as a bottle of vodka exploded above my head. It was shot from Volkov’s desk. But the dot on Volkov’s chest never left. There were more shooters on the roof.
“Darn it!” Grayson let out in mock disappointment.
“Look what you made me do. That was a perfectly fine bottle of Beluga. Now let’s stop acting like cave men.
I’m here to strike a deal amongst gentlemen.
So lower the guns, hmm? I don’t want your brains dripping on the floor like the vodka.
I’ve done enough housecleaning to last me a lifetime. ” Grayson winked at Owen.
Michael sneered at Grayson, flicking his fingers at us. Vlad eased off me and Gemma pulled me off the table. There was another red dot on Vlad’s forehead. Who was with Hunter?
“Go,” she said lowly, pushing me towards the door.
“No. I’m not leaving without Owen,” I said, standing my ground. He was still restrained on his knees with a gun to his head.
“No, you leave right now,” Owen pressed. He was shaking violently. From terror or anger, I did not know. Maybe both.
Gemma stared at me for a second, chewing nervously on her lip. “Will that make us even then?” she whispered, her eyes pained.
My chin started to tremble. I knew what she meant. Owen’s life in return for all the hell she helped put me through. “Yes. Please, Gemma,” I begged clutching on to her hands.
She nodded and gave a look to Grayson.
He sighed irritably. “Yes, yes. Everyone get out. The grownups have business to discuss. Except for you, doll. Ty mozhesh' ostat'sya.” He purred, motioning the dancer closer, then pulled her onto his lap.
I watched as he pinched her exposed nipple while she moaned in pleasure, her eyes sparkling from being chosen by the most powerful man in the room and one of the sexiest men she had probably ever laid eyes on.
I swallowed back the instant vomit coming up my throat.
I hated him. I fucking hated him with all my heart.
As if he could read my mind, Grayson’s cold stare flicked to me. He gave me a taunting smirk as the woman started grinding on him.
Owen was by my side then, clasping my hand tightly in his, tugging at me to go, but I held Grayson’s stare.
He quirked a brow at me, and I wanted to claw the smug grin from his face. “Hear me, Varon. As long as I walk this earth you will never sleep easy. I will haunt your every godless step until I see you in hell,” I spat, the hate I felt dripping from my tongue and oozing from my pores.
His grin faltered, for a split second, before returning full swing. “Don’t you see yet, darling? This is hell.”
And he was the fucking devil.
I turned from him, giving one last look at Michael, who was sitting completely still, observing the exchange between me and Grayson with a quizzical look.
Fuck him too. “That was no way to treat a lady, Volkov. I expect better manners next time I see you.” I gave him a menacing glare.
“You dare threaten me, Candy?” he spat at me. “Know this, ved’ma—the next time I see you, I will burn that pretty body on a stake.”
“We’ll see,” I answered haughtily, letting Owen pull me through the door as Grayson’s delighted laugh burned through me. My blood was boiling and my legs about to give out from under me. Let Volkov think he’s the big man for a little while longer. The FBI would be swarming this place soon enough.
“You’re a fool for not taking the witch seriously. You’re a cursed man now, pakhan. Just like me. Count your days,” I heard Grayson say, before the door slammed shut.
Gemma was behind us, probably making sure that we were getting out alive.
When we reached the exit door, she spun me around.
“You need to stop this,” she whispered closely, so the guard walking us out couldn’t hear her.
“You have no idea the danger you’re getting yourself into.
Keep your head down and keep Grayson’s name out of your mouth. It’ll get you killed.”
I looked at the woman I had once called a sister.
The woman I’d spent hours trading secrets with huddled under the same blanket.
And my heart couldn’t bare looking at her another second.
“I can’t do that, Gemma. He… he took so much from me.
You all did. I can’t let that go. I won’t stop,” I answered.
She teared up, placing her hand over my cheek. “Oh, Ava… It’s…” She clamped her eyes shut, pulling her lips between her teeth as a tear fell over her cheek. “I’m so sorry.” Gemma gave my hand a quick squeeze, then pushed me towards the door. “Go now,” she mouthed.
“Monroe,” Owen called.
Gemma turned her gaze to Owen.
Owen looked past her at the guard and lowered his voice.
“Thank you. For saving her. Us. I will return the gesture. You have an hour before we descend on this place,” Owen warned, and Gemma gave a stern nod.
“But this changes nothing. We’re still coming for you.
All of you,” Owen said quietly, pulling me through the door.
Gemma gave Owen a sarcastic smile as another tear fell. “You can try, Becket.”
Owen’s lips curved up the slightest bit as we watched her strut down the corridor in her studded heels, pushing the guard out of her way.