Chapter 55 Eliana
ELIANA
overworked /?ōv?r?w?rkt/: adjective
It’s Yasmin’s reaction that guts me. I hear her drop to the floor beside what must be Zeke’s body, her sobs tearing through the room as she repeats his name over and over again. “Zeke. Zeke! Oh, God, oh, God, please—”
Aleksei tsks with disappointment. “No need to fret, darling. He’ll live, assuming someone applies pressure to that wound.” He pauses. “Though I wouldn’t dawdle, if I were you.”
Then a second set of footsteps enters behind Aleksei.
I recognize it instantly. Axe body spray. Stale beer. The exact same combination that was seared into my memory the night I found Yasmin with Brandon’s hands around her throat, when I cracked a lamp across his skull and we fled into the dark.
“Hey there, Eliana,” Brandon sneers. “Miss me?”
Yasmin’s sobbing cuts off into horrified silence. The absence of her screams is somehow worse than the sound of them.
I feel lost, and nauseous, and terrified, and a million other things that don’t have names because no one has ever been in this situation before. It’s like all my nightmares linked up and became friends behind my back.
How does Brandon know Aleksei? How do either of them know we’re here? Where is Bastian? What is happening?
Why, why, why?
Aleksei’s footsteps circle the room. Nobody dares to move. “I suppose you’re wondering where my dear brother is,” he says. “On that front, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“What’d you do?” I grit out.
“Me? I did nothing.” Aleksei has the audacity to sound insulted. “Bastian, however, is currently being arrested for the murder of two federal agents.”
“You’re lying,” Sage snaps.
“Ah, Sage.” Aleksei’s voice goes wistful. “My youngest brother. You’ve grown so much since you were taken from me.”
“I’m not your brother,” Sage spits.
“Blood says otherwise, like it or not. It’s alright—you and I will have lots of time to get to know each other.”
I interrupt before Aleksei can continue scarring Sage for life. “What do you want?” My voice comes out stronger than I feel, which is pretty much the exact polar opposite of “strong,” but hey—fake it ‘til you make it in times like these, am I right?
“Straight to business, I see. I appreciate that about you, Ms. Hunter. My brother always did have excellent taste.” His footsteps stop somewhere to my right. I can smell his cologne now—it’s dark and pungent, off-puttingly spicy, nothing like Bastian’s cool wintergreen.
“To answer your question: What I want,” he says, “is quite simple. I want my family back together.” His hand brushes my cheek.
I flinch away so hard I nearly topple over. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Aleksei laughs as he withdraws his touch. “No need to be so feisty. I’m afraid you misunderstand my intentions. I’m not here to hurt you, Ms. Hunter. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I snap, “what with the shooting and the home invasion and the—” I gesture in Zeke’s direction. “—general stabbing of people.”
“Unfortunate necessities. Mr. Bautista was reaching for a weapon. I couldn’t allow that—it would be dangerous!
You’re carrying my nephew, after all. And at the risk of repeating myself, family is everything to me.
” He clears his throat. “My little brother thought he could betray his own blood and walk away clean. He needs to learn that family isn’t something you get to quit. ”
His hand touches my face again, slower this time, almost tender. His thumb traces the line of my cheekbone like he’s appraising a piece of art.
So I spit in his face.
His slap comes so fast and so hard that, even after it’s struck me, I don’t quite know what happened for a while.
There’s just the explosion of pain across my cheek, the whiplash snap of my head wrenching sideways, and the high-pitched ringing that floods my ears, as if someone shoved a tuning fork directly into my brain stem.
I stumble, catch myself on the arm of the couch, and taste blood where my teeth cut the inside of my cheek.
I can feel everyone’s horror spike. Mom’s strangled gasp. Yasmin’s scream. Even Brandon makes some kind of surprised grunt, like he didn’t expect Aleksei to actually hit a pregnant woman.
But I don’t cry out.
I don’t whimper.
I don’t give this man a single. fucking. thing.
Instead, I straighten up, turn my face back toward where he’s standing, and smile wickedly. “That all you got?”
Aleksei laughs. “I like you, Ms. Hunter. I’d love to get to know you better.” His footsteps retreat toward the door. “Unfortunately, I have other business to attend to tonight. Loose ends to tie up, that sort of thing. Jail cells to visit.”
He pauses, and I hear him clap someone on the shoulder. Brandon, presumably.
“Mr. Brandon here has been invaluable in tracking down information about my brother’s whereabouts.
I believe in rewarding loyalty. Brandon, my friend…
consider this a gift for your service. Do whatever you want with them.
Just make sure the blind one stays alive long enough to deliver that baby.
After that…” He trails off with a shrug I can somehow hear.
“Well, no promises. I’ll be back to check on them in a few days. Have fun.”
The front door opens and closes. Aleksei’s footsteps fade into the night, taking with them any illusion of restraint or negotiation.
Then I hear Brandon crack his knuckles, one by one.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
His breathing grows heavier. The sound of a man who’s been handed unchecked permission to indulge his worst impulses.
And terror unlike anything I’ve ever known floods through my veins.