Bound to the Beast: Russian Hitman Romance (22 page)

BOOK: Bound to the Beast: Russian Hitman Romance
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Chapter Thirty-One

Susanna

 

 

I was sitting curled up on the floor between the two rows of seats. I was trembling all over, thinking of the things that Alexei had just told me. They were supposed to bring me comfort, knowing that I was safe. I had the keys to his car and a stash of money. I hadn’t checked it, but I knew without asking that it wasn’t just a little bit of money. I could be out of here without even glancing back. I could be whoever I wanted. Wherever.

 

But the only place I wanted to be was with him.

 

The idea that he might not come back was eating me up inside. I had already been so close to losing him; I wasn’t sure I could take it again. First, I’d tried to push him away, terrified of this idea of him being a hitman, but things had changed dramatically since then. I’d broken my own heart before, but I’d found the pieces of it and put it back together again. I decided I loved Alexei, only to be told that he was dead.

 

It had nearly killed me on its own.

 

And now? Now, he was running into that warehouse with at least two dangerous men inside, both of them more than willing to kill him. And all along, he was making sure I was safe.

 

My hands made soothing circles over my stomach, massaging and caressing the soft belly that would soon grow. All this time I’d been terrified of a becoming a single mother, and that feeling hadn’t changed. What had changed was the reason why I felt that way.

 

I hadn’t wanted to disappoint my father, but now I didn’t care. If he was going to disown me for this, then he never really loved me.

 

I didn’t want to struggle, to give up my dreams, to have to raise a baby when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. But if that was what I had to do, I would do it. I would do my best, even if I messed up from time to time. I’d love that baby with all my heart and take care of it to the best of my ability.

 

I was scared of being a single mother because I couldn’t bear the idea of spending the rest of my life without Alexei. How would I explain that it was my baby’s uncle who killed its father?

 

Tears sprung to my eyes and I got out one quiet sob before clamping my hand down over my mouth. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t be weak. And I definitely wouldn’t draw unnecessary attention to myself.

 

Sucking in a shuddering breath, I pulled myself together.

 

I was going to lose someone I loved tonight, I realized. Either it would be the man I loved or it would be the brother I’d known all my life. I closed my eyes against the flood of memories of the two of us growing up together. I remembered climbing trees and swimming in the pond. I remembered ice skating and hay rides. I remember sneaking out and drinking with friends.

 

Where had it all gone wrong?

 

But then, I already knew the answer to that, didn’t I? It had started to go wrong when our mom died. Chris shut down, lost himself to despair. When he tried to crawl back out of it, he wasn’t the same boy I’d always known. He was meaner, crueler. It was like there was a ball of darkness lodged in his chest and the only way he knew how to deal with it was to take it out on others. I had always told myself that he didn’t mean it, but now I wasn’t even sure that was true.

 

He just needs help,
I had thought, trying to convince myself that the brother I loved was still in there somewhere.
He needs therapy, rehabilitation. He doesn’t deserve to die, does he?

 

The fact that I wasn’t sure anymore spoke volumes about the state I was in and just how much had gone horribly wrong. I shifted uncomfortable on the floor of the car. The night was so dark and so quiet that it was really freaking me out. It didn’t help that now I knew there were terrible things that went bump in the night. Terrible things that my baby was going to have to deal with. Shaking my head, I tried not to think about it.

 

Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe Alexei would take pity on Chris and let him go. Maybe Chris would go and seek help out on his own. Maybe Alexei would love me as much as I loved him and we’d all live happily ever after.

 

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. I shook my head. What a ridiculous fantasy.

 

I froze when I heard a sudden shout. It was coming from the warehouse just beyond the car. Was it Alexei’s voice I just heard? Was he in trouble?

 

“Oh God,” I said aloud. Was he going to die?

 

Before I could think better of it, I was struggling to unwedge myself from the tight space on the floor of the car. I needed to get out of there. I needed to get to the warehouse and run to help Alexei. If he died while I hid and did nothing, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

 

When I’d managed to get myself out of the folded up position on the floor, I scrambled over the bench seat in the back and opened the door. Just before I made a mad dash, I ripped the keys from the ignition and made a break for it.

 

If it wasn’t Alexei who was hurt, but rather someone else was and they were trying to run, I wasn’t going to make it easy for them.

 

That was the only really intelligent thought I had as I ran towards the sound. Alexei had gone in through a broken window, dropping down to the floor on the other side, but I was nervous about putting that kind of weight on my stomach. What if it hurt the baby? Besides, I wasn’t sure what I’d be dropping down into and what if the landing wasn’t so soft?

 

Instead of the window, I went around to the front of the building and jerked on the double doors that led into the warehouse. It was a risk, but I decided it was the only one I could really afford to take. They opened easily, without even a lingering chain to suggest they’d ever been locked in the first place.

 

When I first came inside, I thought I must have gotten the wrong place. There was nothing inside the huge room used for storage other than a few stacked miscellaneous crates. I noticed that they were mostly pushed up along the walls and that the floors were dusty. The only thing that suggested to me that maybe someone had been here recently were the footprints. The floor was so dusty that even in the dim lighting I could make out the brief trail of cleared floor in the dark. Footprints. They began at the window and led to something I hadn’t noticed before.

 

A set of stairs.

 

Hurrying forward, I rushed up the stairs. Now I heard the noises again. There was a crashing sound and some grunting. It sounded like a struggle. Fear settling in my gut, I moved as quickly as I could up the stairs towards the sound.

 

When I reached the second floor, I saw that it was Alexei. He was fighting with another man who was dressed in dark colors, blues and blacks as far as I could tell. The other man was about the same size as Alexei, but he didn’t look as strong. At least, I didn’t think so. But they were fighting angrily, urgently. The man seemed to sense that the only way to stop Alexei was to put him down for good.

 

The thought made me pale, nauseating me. I thought for a moment about running forward to try and help him, but thought better of it before reacting. If I inserted myself into the fight, what good would I really do him? Probably, I would just present myself as a weakness for Alexei and a means of leverage over him for the other guy.

 

I was still debating the wisdom of trying to help when I spotted them. I saw Christopher’s golden blonde hair first, just a shade darker than mine. His back was turned to me and running beside him was a second man. They were sprinting from the room, talking in low voices that I couldn’t really make out.

 

Alexei was still fighting with the other man as my gaze darted between the two fighting men and the two that were desperately running away. Every fiber of my being wanted to help Alexei, but I already knew what a terrible idea that was. I wouldn’t do him any good by trying to join in the fight. If anything, I’d just end up getting myself badly hurt, and that was something neither of us would be interested in.

 

Plus, the baby…

 

Turning towards my brother who I could just barely see running around a corner, I considered my second option. If I didn’t stop them and they got away, Alexei would have to track them to the next location. And the next. It could go on forever. I didn’t want my brother to die, but Alexei would never stop. But maybe if I got to him first, if I reasoned with him about everything that had happened, if I got him to give back the money, then he wouldn’t have to die. I didn’t care what Alexei had told me in the car. There had to be another way.

 

Deciding that that was my only course of action, I ran towards the two fleeing men. I spared Alexei one last glance, heartened to see that he seemed to have the upper hand with the other man. I told myself that he was strong, that no matter what, he would survive this.

 

For me and for our baby.

 

I ran down the hallway, trying to follow the two men. I had seen them turn at the very end of the hall, heading somewhere that I couldn’t yet see. I had no idea how the warehouse was set up and was surprised that there seemed to be rooms and a hallway all on the second floor. I thought these places were just meant for storage, but it seemed like this one was actually set up like some sort of house.

 

Had my brother maybe been living here? Or at least, hiding out?

 

That seemed pretty likely, which was kind of unfortunate. It meant he and his friend—Jason, he’d said, though I didn’t know of any friends of Chris’s who were named Jason—had to know this place a lot better than I did. Was there another staircase at the end of this hall? Did it lead up another flight or back down to the main floor? Was there a secret passage or a window they were going to jump out of?

 

I couldn’t know, so I just ran and hoped that I could head them off before they escaped. I had to get to them first, to reason with them before it all went horribly wrong. My heart told me that Alexei would win his fight and maybe that was just because I was so desperate to believe it, for him to be alive when this was all over, but I was confident of the outcome all the same.

 

Which meant I didn’t have a lot of time to try and get through to Chris and this crazy Jason guy. I hoped and prayed that they would listen. The weight of the gun tucked into the waistband of my jeans, the one Alexei had given me, reminded me that I had some leverage. Maybe it would be enough to make them listen.

 

I turned the corner into another hall and saw Jason and Chris standing at the end of it, breathing heavily, talking to one another about something urgently. I hurried forward, confident now that I could finally talk some sense into them.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Alexei

 

 

I took a hard hit to my jaw, making the bruise already there throb all the worse. The force of the blow sent me stumbling back until I hit the rickety old wooden table behind me. It couldn’t support my weight and ended up crashing down beneath me. A whoosh of air escaped my lungs harshly thanks to the force of the landing. My back ached beneath me, pieces of chipped, splintered wood pressing into my back.

 

What a night.

 

I would have been faring a lot better in the fight if I hadn’t been already injured. But my body was protesting the work I was forcing it to do and I wasn’t having as much luck with this man as I might have under different circumstances.

 

He had to have had some sort of previous fighting experience. Maybe ex-military. They weren’t always the most intelligent of the bunch so I imagined it would be pretty easy to get dragged in with a few lowlifes like Christopher and his little pal Jason.

 

Normally, I would call Vinny and ask for permission—or at least confirmation—that he wanted this man dead, too, but I didn’t have time to bother with such formalities. I’d kill him for free and, more to the point, I wasn’t about to stop in the middle of our scuffle to have a little chat with my boss.

 

So when the man came at me, roaring with rage that suggested he was probably dipping a little too heavily into the steroids, I let him come. It wasn’t until he was all but on top of me that I moved.

 

Jerking my body to the side, I rolled halfway, then used my legs to sweep his out from under him. He didn’t see it coming. He fell to the floor, just managing to catch himself on his arms before face-planting into the dusty, wooden floorboards.

 

Cursing at me, he scrambled quickly to his feet, rounding on me. I did the same, rising quickly and facing him. I was trying to think strategy, but I knew that this fight was taking too long. Fighting him hand to hand was proving to be a difficult task. Whether it was because I wasn’t up to my full fighting weight or because he was better than I gave him credit for, it really didn’t matter.

 

I had to end this fight, quickly.

 

Jason and Christopher had already fled the room and I was wasting precious time with this moron. If they managed to escape, I was going to find myself in trouble. At this point, I wouldn’t doubt if they decided to switch vehicles. Even morons had to assume that they were being tracked somehow and the easiest things to track were cell phones and cars. They’d probably dump Christopher’s truck before I got another chance like this.

 

No, I had to deal with this fight and end it now. No more screwing around.

 

My eyes searched the room, debris coating the floor, dust flying around in the air. The bookcase to the left had been upended, what few small things had been on it now scattered about the floor, broken or at least damaged in some way. The table had already been crushed beneath my weight, the jagged pieces of wood poking out from the floor, daring someone to forget about them and fall on their splintered ends.

 

I thought briefly about trying to get him down on one of those pieces, but that was a difficult task. Even if I could make him fall—which was unlikely given how big the guy was—it would take a lot of pushing to get that wood through his body. No, I needed something faster.

 

He came at me then, tired of waiting for me to make my next move. His arms flailed, his fists swinging closer and closer to my face, but I was dodging him easily now. I was expecting his reckless, bar brawling attacks and they no longer unsettled me. Instead, my eyes kept scanning the room until they finally landed one the thing I’d been searching for.

 

My gun.

 

The man in black swung at me again and the gun had distracted me enough that he landed a hit to my shoulder, causing me to stumble backwards. But I didn’t lose my balance. Keeping my focus on him, but still aware of where the gun was, I forced him to dance. I came at him, throwing wild punches that he was forced to dodge. It didn’t really matter to me if they landed, I only wanted to make sure that he kept moving.

 

It was working. Every hit sent him floundering backwards, unsteady on his large, bulky feet, mostly from the debris that coated the floor.

 

Finally, I sent a shove to the middle of his chest. It knocked the wind out of him and caused him to stumble a little. He didn’t fall to the floor, but it gave me just enough time to make a dive for the gun. I slid across the floor, hand out, and felt the gun slide into my palm. As it did, I swiveled around, lying down on my back as the man regained his balance and came at me.

 

He roared one last time, and then he saw the gun.

 

I fired. The bullet tore through his head, sending blood and brain matter splattering out behind him, and then he was falling forward heavily. I rolled out of the way just in time to avoid his weight. He lay there unmoving and, judging by the large hole in the center of his forehead, I had the feeling that he wasn’t going to get up ever again.

 

Not wanting to linger in the room with the dead man, I scrambled up to my feet. Launching myself down the hall where I’d seen Christopher and Jason run down, I pushed myself as fast as I could go. I was determined to catch up with them, though I knew that that fight back there with the man in black had cost me a lot of time. There was a good chance that I was already too late, that they’d escaped.

 

Which was why I was deeply surprised to see that they had both stopped dead in their tracks at the end of the hall. And the reason why was that a pretty, sexy little woman with blonde hair and fierce blue eyes was point a gun—
my
gun—right at them.

 

I was shocked, remembering I had told her not only to hide, but to run if it seemed like I wasn’t going to make it. I hadn’t even noticed her come in here and I was pretty sure she had to use the same staircase I had to do it.

 

Pushing my shock aside, I forced myself to go faster, worry snaking its way through my system. She didn’t know what was going on. She hadn’t heard what they had said earlier. About her being a liability. She didn’t know that Jason wanted her dead—or that Christopher had agreed.

 

As I got closer, I heard their voices. Christopher was trying to talk to Susanna, trying to calm her down. I could see now that her face was ruddy and teary.

 

“Why would you do such terrible things?” she demanded angrily, the gun shaking in her tiny hands. “I… How could you leave me alone with Tyler? Did you
know
what he was going to do?”

 

Christopher had the decency to look ashamed, but it was hardly enough to cause any sympathy on my part. I hoped it wasn’t enough to sway Susanna, either. “What? No, of course not. How could I know? I just wanted to make sure you guys stayed put, was all.”

 

“Stayed put?” Susanna demanded, incredulous and angry. “So you told him to point a gun at me and make sure I didn’t go anywhere? What the hell is wrong with you?”

 

He put his hands up higher, trying to show that he was no threat. But I knew better. He was dangerous and so was the silent, but ever present Jason. I needed to get to them, now.

 

“I’m sorry
,
Susanna, really,” Christopher kept trying, taking tiny steps closer and closer to his sister. He was going to go for her gun, I knew it. “All this just got crazy and—”

 

He reached for the gun at the same time that I shouted for Susanna to get away, to be careful. She jerked her attention towards me and that was when it all happened. Christopher stole the gun from her grasp, yanking it away from her. To his credit, he didn’t whirl it back around on her and shoot, but what he did wasn’t much better. He stepped aside just as Jason lunged for her.

 

His hands went to her throat, locking around the long, delicate column. She barely even had the breath to get out a half a scream. She wrapped her tiny hands around his wrists, trying to pry him from her, but it was no use. She wasn’t strong enough.

 

My vision blurred as terrible, sweeping anger raced through me. I wanted him dead. I wanted them both dead. I wanted to see Jason bleed. I wanted to hear him whimper and plead and beg for his life, all the while knowing that he wasn’t going to make it through the night.

 

A roaring yell escaped my throat, unbidden, out of control, and I pulled my gun as I ran towards them. I shot Christopher first, catching him in the gut before the little shit had the chance to run or fire back. He let out a cry of anguish that I relished in, before stumbling back and hitting the wall. There, he slumped down to the floor.

 

The sudden shot was enough to distract Jason long enough to pull away from Susanna. She scrambled back away from him, choking and wheezing, trying to pull in as much air into her lungs as humanly possible. Her eyes were watery and red rimmed, her neck bruised, and it only served to make me angrier.

 

When I reached Jason, there was no mercy. My fist connected with his face and that first blow had him reeling. It was the first of many. I hit him again and again. Sometimes with the butt of the gun, sometimes with my bare hands. I felt my knuckles split and bruise. I felt blood that was both mine and his splatter, drops hitting my cheeks and chin, tiny spots of rapidly cooling heat. And still I didn’t stop. When he began to slump beneath my anger, I grabbed him by the neck and collar, holding him up so that I could continue my assault.

 

It seemed like I had lost time. I couldn’t say how long I’d been hitting him, how badly I’d messed his face up. It was like Tyler all over again, but a thousand times worse.

 

No one touches her
, I thought, and finally, after a sickening crack that came from somewhere deep within his body, I let him go.

 

He slumped in a bloody, mangled heap on the floor, near where Christopher whimpered. Susanna’s brother bled from the wound in his gut, a wound that would eventually kill him. He was begging for his life, but these were meaningless sounds, meaningless pleas. Even if I would spare his life—which I wouldn’t, couldn’t after what I’d heard him agree to just earlier in that night—it wouldn’t matter. Short of some major surgery, he would die.

 

No, all that was in store for him now was pain. Lots of it. It would be a mercy to kill him now.

 

I wondered if Susanna would find it in her heart to see it that way.

 

Turning to her, I reached out hesitantly, half expecting her to flinch away from me. I knew I had to look awful in her eyes. Blood, dirt, and bruises covering my face and hands, my shirt, my hair, my pants. I was covered in it. Filthy.

 

But even as I reached for her with bloody, torn hands, she came to me. She ran to me, rushing into my waiting arms, sobbing and muttering incoherently. I clutched her to me tightly, ignoring the dead or dying bodies in the room, the moaning that still came from Christopher’s lips and the wet, gurgling breaths that struggled to go into Jason’s lungs.

 

They were already dead to me, so instead I focused on the trembling beauty in my arms. At least
she
was still alive.

 

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice starting out soft, relief still coating my words. But it was growing in intensity, anger sparking. I told her to wait in the car. “How could you come in here and risk your life like that? Risk the
baby’s
life like that?”

 

I heard Christopher manage to get out a surprised, “Baby?” but neither myself nor Susanna was listening by then. We only had eyes for each other.

 

She sobbed, coughing a little because of the way Jason had tried so hard to strangle her. Something that would keep me angry with him for a very long time, dead or no. When she’d collected herself enough to speak, she let out a shuddering breath and told me, “I heard a shout, I thought—” She shook her head, clearly upset. I rubbed her shoulders comfortingly, not caring that two men were slumped nearby dying. I hoped they would suffer a little bit anyway before I finished the job. “I thought that you were in trouble,” she finished finally and a strange feeling washed through me.

 

Susanna had come because she had been worried about me.

 

There was no question in my mind that I would save Susanna from anything and everything that I could. I would take on Vinny and Boris and the whole lot of them if I had to, just to save Susanna. I hoped desperately that it would never come to that, but if it did, I would be ready. But it had never really occurred to me that perhaps the favor might be returned.

BOOK: Bound to the Beast: Russian Hitman Romance
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