Chapter 48
Aleksandr
All My Fault
Nik, Ivan, and I were making our way to pick up one of our targets. I just wanted to go home, especially after my confession to Marcel. Coming clean, while wildly therapeutic, also brought home the stark reality that I’d violated Kinsley’s trust.
At some point, I’d need to talk to her about it. Marcel was adamant that I allowed him some time to get to know her and establish a relationship first. He was equally adamant that I should not mention her comment about killing herself to Ivan. I once more had to face my guilt at not being more open with Nik.
Marcel had told me that prior to the two of them going up to Skagit, they had thought that maybe Kinsley had hurt herself. If she had, that would have been placed directly on my doorstep. Having seen the devastation that end brings, all I could do was be thankful it didn’t go down that way.
Knowing that Mischa Natalya was supposed to be one of Madame Pierce’s girls, and that Owen Taylor was the man who’d arranged for the placement, we had proof of her true identity. Uncovering the mystery of what happened would be key to knowing how to move forward. For both her and us.
Talking to her was the first step. Marcel agreed we could give it a shot, but if she shut down, we were to back off. He would then approach her. I trusted him as if he were my blood brother. He liked to think that we saved him, but it was the other way around.
He’d saved all our asses, collectively and individually, in more ways than one over the years. I was startled from my memories by Marcel’s ringtone on Ivan’s phone.
“What exactly happened with Kinsley tonight? And why haven’t the three of you had a conversation with the girl about Anton casing her? I swear I have no idea what the hell has come over you all.”
Marcel was agitated, and his voice was loud.
“It’s a need-to-know basis, hence the periodic surveillance and alarm system. No one has come to replace him, and we plan to discuss it with her in full detail tomorrow,” Nik said.
“Well, then you should have told me that. I thought she was aware,”
Marcel said, exasperated.
“Shit,”
I exclaimed. How much more were we going to fuck things up with this girl?
It seemed no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get it right to save my life. Was I doomed to stumble and fall short with her every fucking time? But his next words only intensified my concern.
“Well, now there’s more you’ll need to concern yourselves with,”
he seethed.
“What do you mean?”
I demanded.
“She got some fucked-up package that she insisted you sent her. I’ll send you the picture. I told her there was no way you’d send some shit like that. She got it in the mail. And she sounded off.”
Ivan’s head snapped to attention. He heard the edges of fear in Marcel’s voice clearly. And my own instincts told me there was cause for the concern. Marcel didn’t panic easily; he was the most stoic of us all, even better than Nik 99 percent of the time.
“I know you mentioned she was drinking tonight, but I’m hoping she didn’t mix that with pills.”
“Pills?”
Nik raised his eyebrow at me.
With a sharp edge to my voice, I retorted, “You’d have that information if you weren’t insistent that we work tonight.”
Each word dripped with sarcasm. Fuck, this shit was messing with me all around. With a heavy sigh, I turned my attention back to Marcel.
“What was in the package?” I asked.
Before he could respond, a sudden eruption from Ivan filled the air.
“What in the actual fuck?”
he bellowed before adding, “Marcus, reroute to Kinsley’s. Now.”
My brother’s voice barely contained the fury the image evoked. We were almost an hour from her at this point. Ivan shoved the phone in my face first and then in Nik’s.
My heart seized in my chest at the image on the screen. I caught the parts of the note that said “wait for me”
and something about being there soon. The blood drained from my face.
“Goddamn it, can this night get any more fucked?”
Nik exclaimed in frustration. Shit, what now?
“Nik, what is it?”
Marcel asked, his voice laced with concern.
Nik leaned over and showed me the footage from Kinsley’s doorbell camera had gone dead.
“Marcel, we’re going to need to call you back.”
Panic laced Nik’s voice.
The strange package and note, coupled with the realization that her Ring camera was not working, sent a chill coursing down my spine. What in the fuck was happening here?
“Okay, keep me posted. I have back-to-back patients, but I’ll take your call no matter what. I’m here for you.”
Marcel could tell by the tone of Nik’s voice that something was very wrong.
Miles stretched out before us, and the precariousness of the situation ate at me. I pulled up her location on my phone and sighed. The tracker still placed her at home. Maybe she’d be okay until we got there.
Then my phone rang.
“Chief, what is it?”
I asked into my phone.
Sirens, loud shouts, and utter chaos crackled through the line before his gruff voice asked, “Ms. Taylor lives in Woodinville, correct? Little house on a corner lot?”
“Yeah, Little Bear Creek. Why?”
Everything faded, my heart nearly stopping at his next words. No. No, it can’t be…
“Fuck!”
I ended the call.
A heaviness and a sense of dread filled me to the point where I couldn’t breathe. Never ask the universe if things could get worse, because it always could.
A slow-moving tightness crept through my chest, and a lump formed in my throat. Words left my mouth, but they sounded detached and foreign, as if my mind couldn’t believe what he’d said.
“What?”
Ivan asked, sounding confused.
I cleared my throat and repeated the words. “The Woodinville Fire Department’s been dispatched to Kinsley’s house. Structural fire, possible entrapment. Marcus,”
I said, my voice cracking.
“I got you, Boss.”
Marcus stepped on the gas and maneuvered the car like a Formula 1 racer. We were still about forty minutes out, even with Marcus driving crazily.
None of us were prepared for what we saw when we pulled up. Thick black smoke and flames billowed from the broken front window that the firefighters had knocked in.
They were attempting to find a point of entry to search the home. It felt like a knife to the gut. I met Nik’s eyes. If she was inside, there was no way she’d make it. If the flames didn’t get her, smoke inhalation would.
Jumping out, I knew there was nothing I could do, but I had to try. I ran toward the house. Ivan and Nik both knew what I was going to do and tackled me halfway there. I fought against them, yelling and screaming, trying to buck them off. It took Ivan, Nik, and Marcus to hold me down.
After several minutes of struggling, I sagged, the fight leaving me. Nik helped me up. Grabbing his shirt, I whispered, “Why, Nikki? Damn it, we lost a-fucking-nother one. This is all my fault.”
I collapsed on the grass, that deep, searing pain I’d hoped to never encounter again in my life ripping through me. Kinsley was gone.
To Be Continued…