Then he pushes me through.

I can’t even turn behind to see what’s going on. There’s only one way to go in this tunnel, and that’s forward. The pipeline swerves and bends endlessly, and the dank mold feels like a thousand-year old carpet under my hands and knees.

All I want to do is turn around and go back to Kolya.

But I can’t.

And then I see light. I crawl a little faster, greedy for all that fresh, beautiful air. Desperate for the end of the tunnel.

I spill out the other side and land with my hands and feet in the dirt. I suck in air and turn my face up to the sky. Sara hangs over me, eyes dappled with concern.

“You okay?”

“K-Kolya…”

“Kolya will be fine,” she says firmly. “The man is superhuman sometimes.”

The only thing I can focus on is the ‘sometimes’ part of that sentence. What about the rest of the time? But before I can think too much about that, Sara grabs hold of me and pulls me up to my feet.

“Come on, June. This is no time to fall apart.”

“But—”

“No buts. Come on. We have to move.”

I think I can still hear gunshots in the distance, but I’m not sure if I’m just imagining it or not. I chance a glance over my shoulders. The only thing to see are high walls towering overhead.

Kolya will be okay, I tell myself. He has to be.

30

KOLYA

I’ve scoured every last one of the bodies sprawled around me.

There’s no mark on any of them. Nothing to suggest that they belong to an enemy Bratva or they’re affiliated with any person or organization.

Not that I need proof to know who sent them.

This move stinks of Adrian.

Of course, he’s not here. That assures his deniability in the future. Even if it didn’t, he would never put himself in danger by joining his men. He’d just beg, borrow, and steal to afford one horde of mercenaries after the next to hurl at me like cannon fodder.

This won’t be the last time this happens.

Milana walks through the door. She’s got blood flecked across her face, though it’s not hers.

“Well?”

“No marks, no tattoos,” she agrees. “Not a single fucking clue.”

I’m lucky she came when she did. She and thirty of my men showed up right on time. Five minutes later and they might’ve found me riddled with bullet holes.

As it stands, I have three. One grazed my arm. Another punctured my leg. The third hit me on the side of my stomach. None of them are life-threatening, but Christ, they hurt like a motherfucker.

Milana notices the blood leaking through my shirt. “Kolya, you idiot, you got shot. You have to sit down.”

I ignore her. “I have to find June. I managed to get her and Sara out, but—”

“Don’t worry. They’re both fine.”

I stop short. “You’ve seen her?”