Chapter 13 #2
Idir slams back his whisky. “Alright, Mrs. Russo, you have your deal. I will regret it to my dying day, the shame of these numbers, but—“ His grin returns, bright and easygoing. “I cannot resist a beautiful woman!”
“Clearly,” I mutter, eyes flicking to the girls, still busily packing the warehouse.
There’s no paperwork, no invoices, no trail at all. Only a handshake, an exchange of details and shipping promises, and that’s the end. Gabe promises to send a bank transfer in a day for a twenty-percent down payment with the rest at delivery.
I walk out of there in a daze. I keep thinking Idir’s going to come running after us, demand we come back and fix this mistake, or maybe Gabe’s going to laugh in my face and tell me how I got ripped off like the idiot I am.
My heart’s racing right up until we climb back into the car and Gabe whispers into his radio telling his protection teams to stand down.
He turns to me. His eyes roam my face, my lips, down my body and back again. We’re alone in the town car. The divider is up and the windows are tinted. He licks his lips, takes a deep breath, and leans forward.
“Congratulations, Nika. You drive one hell of a negotiation.”
I burst out laughing. Something in me softens and cracks. I lean back in my seat, elation running through me as the car pulls out and we start driving away. “I got a good deal? I really didn’t screw it up?”
“You got a perfectly acceptable deal.” He puts his hand on my leg again. I should maybe brush it away, but I like the way it feels right where it is. “Idir’s profit margins are probably thinner than he usually likes, but I have a feeling we’re all winners in this.”
“Oh my god. I thought I screwed it up.”
“Not at all. You did wonderful.” He moves closer, his lips bending down to brush my neck.
My heart doubles in speed. I like the way he touches me, the way he can’t seem to stop coming close to me.
Even though I’m barely more than a bank account to him, it feels like there’s something drawing us closer together.
And maybe that’s stupidity on my part. Maybe we can’t ever be more, and why would I want that?
He dragged me into this war and ripped me from my familiar, boring life.
I was safe before, at least until a drone blew up my apartment and I was forced to marry him in front of a priest who was clearly paid to perform the ceremony.
This relationship is a business arrangement and nothing more.
He’s been clear about that from the start.
But this doesn’t feel like business. His fingers grazing my leg, his mouth brushing my throat. The steady flutter of desire in my heart. His voice echoing in my mind as he stroked himself in the shower. Veronika…
For a man who says he doesn’t care, he seems like he can’t stop thinking about me.
And for some sick reason, that gives me strength.
Enough to negotiate with arms dealers, at least.
I shift closer to him, feeling too excited from my win to care about what our relationship means, what he really wants, any of that. All I can see is what’s in front of me: a handsome man, eager and willing, almost desperate, and I like that. I really like it.
At least until the car jerks sideways.
“Fuck!” Gabe grabs me, using one arm to pin me back against the seat as the tires scream and the car spins. “Hold on!”
Ahead, I catch a glimpse of a van barreling straight at us. The driver’s trying to get out of the way, but it’s too late. The van crosses the median, skips over the curb, slams down on two wheels—
And rams into our car.
Everything is chaos. Glass shatters. I’m thrown sideways.
My only reference point is Gabe’s arm still pinning me back, his muscles straining, as the car spins and spins.
I feel sick and I’m screaming as glass cuts against my face, until suddenly I’m jerked to a stop as our car comes to rest up against a tree.
Steam rises from the engine. I’m disoriented and confused. I touch myself and pick a piece of glass from my cheek. It glitters red with blood. “Gabe?” I can barely hear myself. “Gabe? Are you? What? Where?”
“Nika, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Then he’s there, desperately taking off my seatbelt. “We have to move.”
He leans over and shoves my door open. I gasp as he drags me out of the car.
Blood’s splattered across his clothes. There’s a big gash across his ribs, dribbling freely.
I take in him and the damage to our vehicle.
The driver’s face is crumpled against the steering wheel.
His head looks like it exploded, and I can’t understand what happened, until I realize the front windshield’s got bullet holes in it.
“Come on.” Gabe drags me from the wreck and into a stand of trees off the side of the road. The van’s lurking nearby, its front end crunched. The side door opens and men wearing black masks climb out.
Three of them, and they’re all armed.
Gabe shoves me past him and drops to a knee. “Run!” he commands, raising a gun and firing on our attackers.
I sprint into the trees. I scream as bullets rip into the underbrush near me, making me stagger and trip over a tangle of roots.
I hit the ground hard, groaning, roll onto my knees, and shove myself forward again.
I’m covered in dirt and blood. There’s no pain so I don’t think I’m seriously injured, but it’s hard to say. Adrenaline drives me forward.
I stumble, hit a tree, bounce off the trunk, and turn to look back. Gabe’s gone. The men are gone. I don’t know what's happening until I spot one of our attackers, lanky and loping after me, in jeans, a button down, and a ski mask. He raises his gun and shoots.
The bullet explodes the tree next to my face.
I scream and dive backward, stagger, land on my ass. I roll sideways, scrambling through the leaves, and start running. More bullets whizz past me. I’m crying, slamming through bushes, sprinting ahead, breathing hard—
Until hands grab me.
I scream, thrash, kick and fight. More gunshots go off, this time right next to my head, and then Gabe’s voice. “I got you, baby, I got you, it’s okay.”
Panic ebbs enough for my head to clear. I look up and realize it’s Gabe holding me. He’s bloodied, cut and bruised, his teeth set in a grim line.
“What… what happened?! What’s going on?!”
He opens his mouth to answer, but there’s a shout from nearby. “Cousin Nika! I’ve been looking for you, cousin Nika!”
A man comes striding through the trees. Smoke billows from our car behind him. They lit it on fire. Black plumes burst into the sky as the man stops twenty feet away, grinning like a maniac.
He’s big. Massive, really, like a bear on hind legs.
He’s in all black, a black vest, black jeans, and a dark rifle leaning casually against his shoulder.
His skin is pale, his hair is pure white, and his eyes are an odd mismatched blue, one darker than the other.
A scar puckers his lips. He looks like a nightmare.
“Artyom!” Gabe yells, once again putting himself in front of me, his gun raised. “I was wondering when you’d show your ugly fucking face.”
“Been too long, Gabriel, much too long. I was missing you in Moscow, so here I am.” Artyom sneers but his eyes stray to me. “This really is her, isn’t it? Cousin Nika, it’s so good to meet you. I heard so many good things about you.”
I’m shaking. A strangled whimper escapes my lips.
I can’t bring myself to answer. What happened to the confident, powerful girl from the negotiation ten minutes ago?
She was wiped away in a car crash, leaving this.
My inability to do anything makes me sick.
It makes me despise myself. How could I have let them break me so badly?
And how am I ever going to put myself back together?
I cling to Gabe’s back. He touches me with one hand, the other still aiming the gun steadily.
“What’s your plan, Artyom? Kill me? Marry your cousin? Doubt your crew will like that one. You should’ve taken my deal when I offered it.”
“And be your fucking slave?” Artyom spits on the ground. “Never, Italian scum. I don’t care who your father was. I will control the Medved Bratva. And you will die.”
“Killing me is only going to make the civil war worse. You want power? You want glory? We work together. We build something together.”
“Your begging is making me sick. Can’t you die with some grace, Gabriel?”
“Yelena hates you. This is only going to make it worse.”
Artyom laughs. “Who gives a shit about some washed-up old bitch?”
Anger riles my heart. That’s my Yelena they’re talking about. But I can’t bring myself to speak.
“You should. Because she taught you better.”
“Taught me what?”
“That you should shoot first instead of running your ugly fucking mouth.”
Gunfire cracks the air. Artyom screams and staggers back. Two more shots and my cousin’s stumbling backward, running at a crouch. His men from further down the ridge open fire, shooting up into the woods, as Artyom screams in garbled, pain-fueled Russian.
Gabe turns and drags me deeper into the woods. We run at a stumbling, loping stagger, through brambles and stickers, until the gunfire comes to a sudden, deafening halt, and we burst into a clearing on the far side, barely fifty feet from a run-down house.
Daniel’s waiting nearby with a sniper rifle. A truck’s idling, its doors standing open.
“You missed,” Gabe says, holding my hand tightly as he helps me into the back of the vehicle.
“I was shooting through trees at eighty yards.”
“Still should’ve gone for the head.”
“Center mass saved your life, boss.” Daniel winks at me. “Glad you’re okay.”
“Get my wife home.” Gabe touches my leg, but doesn’t follow me into the truck. “Make sure she’s safe.”
“Where are you going?” I find my voice at last. The idea of being parted from him wrenches something primal in my stomach. An ugly, pathetic panic response.
“I need to catch and kill Artyom if I can.” He leans into the truck and plants a brutal kiss on my lips. It tastes like iron and burning ash. “I’ll see you later.”
Then he’s jogging off, back into the woods. Men materialize around him, and I realize it’s the security detail from the arms deal pushing for a counter-attack.
I collapse back onto the seat as Daniel gets behind the wheel. I catch his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“What’d you think of your cousin?” He flashes me a grin and puts the truck into gear. “Nice guy, once you get to know him.”