Chapter 25
Luna
I stare out the window as we pull up to the site, and, oh God, we’ve got our work cut out for us. There is so much to do.
We’re here to scout a new location for one of the schools we’re building for the children rescued from the trafficking ring Maksim, Roman’s twin, dismantled last year. Many of them have no homes, no parents, no one to care for them, so they stay with us.
The abandoned factory sits in the middle of a field where you can barely make out a few houses in the distance.
At least there's plenty of space.
As we cross the expanse to head inside, Sergey, my bodyguard, says, "Let me call the contractor."
I'm walking around the building, my eyes scanning for all the repairs we'll need, when I hear a sound.
A ringtone. My gaze immediately shoots to Sergey.
"What the hell..." But the melody's coming from inside.
I have a bad feeling about this, and so does Sergey by the look on his face as he sends a message.
"I'm going to check it out. Stay here. You have your gun?"
I nod, still surveying the surroundings.
There's no other car here, just weeds stretching across the entire horizon, so I walk a few yards, looking for any sign of someone.
A breeze pushes a few strands of hair into my face, and that's when I hear a scream.
My first instinct is to shout Sergey’s name, but it's clear we're not alone.
The next instant, my phone vibrates and somehow I know it's him.
With one hand, I pull my gun from behind my back and with the other, I wedge my phone between my shoulder and ear.
"We're at the location. No sign of another vehicle, and Sergey's inside the factory. I heard a single scream."
"It's the psychopath stalking Roxy."
The man who killed her mother. The man who killed other women.
The Bloody Dahlia. For a split second my body freezes, but that's exactly the reaction I'm sure he expects from me.
This whole setup was orchestrated to get Roxy's attention, and I'm just the perfect bait.
So I straighten my spine, grip the gun more tightly, and refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me scared.
I reach the entrance of the factory and for a brief moment I try to calm my nerves.
"Luna," Roman murmurs nervously, because he's on his way.
Because he'll always come for me. Because whatever hole I fall into, I know he'll be there to pull me out. I just have to hold on long enough.
"I love you," I whisper, and he knows there's no point telling me not to move from where I am.
Not with Sergey's life on the line.
"Don't you dare say that like there's a chance you won't get to say it to my face again."
"You'll find me," and though I hate to, I have to end the call and focus on my surroundings.
"Always." The same answer he gave me a year ago.
The factory door swings open with a screech of rusted hinges, the sound echoing through the empty space like nails on a chalkboard.
My footsteps scrape against the sand beneath me, and I try to analyze what's to my left and right. I see a trail of blood in the center, so I head toward it.
I don't see any other marks in the sand and I wonder what the hell happened. Then something wet drops onto my cheek, and somehow I know what it is without touching it.
Above me hangs a body. A man around forty, brown haired, wearing a white shirt soaked with blood across his entire abdomen.
I think I found the contractor.
A sound comes from the right, and I spin my whole body toward it.
"Drop the gun, Luna." A distorted voice echoes throughout the factory and I have to suppress a shiver.
My eyes scan the concrete walls and rusted windows, trying to find the source of the voice.
Then the factory door creaks loudly and I turn, coming face to face with a white mask. A tall man in a black coat stands before me, and without hesitation, I lift my gun. My finger squeezes the trigger, but he lunges toward me and the bullet misses, hitting the wall behind him.
I squeeze the trigger again, but he's already moving, dodging like he can predict exactly where I'll aim.
"I like it when they don't give in. I like it when they don't follow orders. It's more satisfying to cut into skin that fights back." And before the last word leaves his mouth, he jumps on me.
My knee connects with his ribs, and using every trick I learned from Sergey, I try to break free, but in the process my gun slips away. Fuck.
I know Roman's on his way. I know half the Russian mafia will be here any second, so for a moment, I try to regain control of myself.
I feel panic squeezing my chest like a fist, but I try to focus on details. His coat looks expensive, maybe wool, he's easily six feet tall...
His voice isn't altered. And it sounds…young? Maybe twenty? Thirty?
When I see his fist rise, I duck, and using all my weight, I shove him off me, but then I feel a cut on my leg.
"I see why you're friends with her. I wonder if Roxy will fight as hard as you?" he asks and laughs.
"ENOUGH!" the distorted voice sounds from somewhere above us.
There are two people. Two men.
"Where's Sergey?"
I watch the younger man study me, and I know if I could see his eyes, I'd find a predator.
"TELL ROXY TO CALL OFF THE WEDDING TO THAT BASTARD. THIS IS THE ONLY TIME I'LL ASK NICELY,” the distorted voice says with a shriek.
So that's what this is about. Roxy's wedding to Damien.
"Where's Sergey?" I ask again.
The man before me takes a few steps toward me, and with the blade stained with my blood pointed at me, he says, "DON'T INTERRUPT HIM!"
"Luna, the only reason you're not bleeding on this floor is because I know Roxy wouldn't forgive me easily if I hurt you. BUT SHE SHOULDN'T TEST ME!"
The last words come out like a roar, but my eyes are still on the guy in front of me, who seems transfixed on me.
When he takes two more steps toward me, I take two back, searching for the gun, only to see it several yards away, closer to him.
"Don't even think about it," he tuts at me, but I can sense his smile beneath the mask.
He wants me to do this. He wants me to go for the gun so he has an excuse to attack me again.
"IF SHE GOES THROUGH WITH THAT WEDDING, TELL HER I WON'T BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THE VICTIMS WHO FOLLOW. AND TO MAKE SURE SHE UNDERSTANDS, YOU'LL BE THE LAST ONE, LUNA. EVEN IF THEY LOCK YOU IN A MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON, I'LL GET TO YOU."
"I'd love to see you try," I tell him with my head held high because I won't be intimidated by these psychopaths who murdered so many women in their own homes.
They're cowards hiding behind masks, who think they're gods. Because I'm sure that's where they get their satisfaction and power. From watching life drain from their victims' eyes, from feeling their helplessness.
The man before me trembles slightly, and I realize he's laughing.
"Oh, I can't wait to feel you under my blade. To watch your eyes widen when you realize you'll take your last breath with my face burned into your retinas. I'll make sure my name is on your lips when you scream."
Taking a step toward him while also keeping an eye on the gun, I try to stop my body from shaking. The air carries a heavy, metallic smell, but I push it away.
"When he gets his hands on you, he'll start with your eyes," I say with a smile on my face.
He tilts his head slightly, trying to figure out what I'm talking about, who I’m talking about, but I continue. He'll come. Always.
"I don't know exactly how he'll stop the bleeding, but he's creative. After that, he'll remove your spleen. I hear it hurts like hell, but your screams will only fuel him."
I take another step, and if I jump, I could make it to the gun.
Then the distorted voice rings out.
"If I were you, I wouldn't reach for that gun. Not when I have mine pointed at your guard's head. And I guarantee my bullet will hit its target."
Then the man in front of me sees how close I was to the weapon and laughs.
Closing the distance between us, I smell...lavender. Or something like lavender. And I hate the smell of lavender.
"Who are you talking about? Who's going to make me bleed?"
"The man who's currently imagining a hundred different ways to dismember you," I answer.
Right then tires screech. They're still far away, but it's clear to me who's coming and, apparently, to the one who orchestrated this meeting.
"Pull back," comes from somewhere above.
With a short nod, the man takes off toward one of the exits, and I lunge for the gun.
He's already several yards away, and I know I wouldn't hit his head no matter how hard I try because despite how many shooting lessons I’ve taken, I simply don't have the talent for it, and half my shots miss their targets.
I don't know if the other one moved away from Sergey or not, but it's my only chance. And maybe because I can't control the impulse, I fire three times in his direction, but I miss.
When he reaches the door, he turns and waves at me. There are over a hundred feet between us, but I still find myself firing two more rounds that only hit the door behind him.
My legs automatically move and I run upstairs to find Sergey. When I reach the top, I see the contractor's body hanging and have to turn my head to keep from getting sick.
In one of the farthest rooms, I find Sergey, unconscious with a gash on his head. I press my hand to the pulse at his neck and feel a flutter.
Only then do I let out a breath.
"LUNA!" I hear Roman’s shout coming from the factory entrance.
"UP HERE!" I call back, still trying to wake Sergey.
Within seconds I hear his footsteps on the stairs, and when his body enters the room, mine instantly relaxes.
I don't have to wait, because I'm lifted from where I was kneeling beside Sergey and pulled into Roman's arms.
"I swear you're not leaving the house unless you're tied to me," he breathes against me.
A small laugh escapes at his protectiveness, but I feel him trembling and I lift his face from my neck with my hands.
"I'm okay. He didn't hurt me," I assure him even though the scratch on my leg stings right at that second, and his eyes obviously catch it.
"Where?" is all he asks.
"It's just a small scratch on my leg, I promise."
He drops to his knees in front of me to examine the wound, and only after a few seconds does he stand and kiss the top of my head.
"And that's the only reason this building is still standing and the city hasn't been burned to the ground. Because if he'd hurt you worse, Luna, not all the prayers, not all the miracles in the world would've saved him from my hands."
I rest my forehead against his and let my heart settle.
Then another voice sounds, and I realize it's Damien.
"Come on, we need to talk," I tell Roman.