“You really want me to follow through with this?”

“Yes. This woman might be a weakness for him. And if that’s the case, knowledge is power.”

She lingers at the threshold for a moment, weighing just how far to push me. In the end, she turns and heads out of the room wordlessly.

I stay put, the last one standing among the heaps of dead bodies, finally able to feel the pain ricocheting through me. I’ve been shot before. But this time feels different.

It feels like I have something to lose.

“Boss?” Mikhail says, appearing at the threshold. “We’ve got a car waiting for you downstairs. Knox and Pavel are with Ms. June and the doctor at the Westmont Inn, a few miles down the road.”

“Get me a fresh shirt,” I tell him. “I’ll need to look halfway presentable before I walk in there.” I limp past the bodies towards the door. “What’s the final count?”

“Twenty-six bodies in total,” he says. “But we have reason to believe that a number of men retreated when they saw us arrive. At least twelve are unaccounted for.”

“Fucking cowards,” I mutter under my breath.

But the number gives me pause. The thought of what might have happened does, too.

“How many lost on our side?”

“Seventeen,” Mikhail says. The sorrow in his voice drips like rain.

“Bury them on the property and inform their families. As for the bastards who came into my home… set them on fire and feed the ashes to the fucking birds.”

Mikhail nods once more, then turns to do my bidding.

Which leaves me standing there with blood in my hands, fury in my chest, and nothing but confusion in my head.

31

KOLYA

I can feel the palpitations in my eardrums. It feels almost like I’m counting down to something.

Ba-boom.

Three.

Ba-boom.

Two.

Ba-boom.

One…

And then the door opens and I see Sara standing there with her back to me. She turns at the sound of the door, revealing June, who’s sitting on a white chaise sofa with a glass of water in her hand.

Her eyes are tight with worry, but when they fall on me, the worry gives way to relief.

“Kolya!” she says, jerking to her feet and spilling water on the patterned carpet. “Oh, thank God. Oh, thank God. Oh, thank God…”

Sara gives me a strained smile, then her gaze falls to the front of my shirt. The blood is soaking through the fresh garment despite my half-assed attempt at bandaging it on the way over.

“You idiot!” she scolds, rushing towards me. “What happened?”

“Y-you’ve been shot?” June exclaims. It’s like she can’t believe that I’m bleeding at all. Like she didn’t know I was capable of it. It would be amusing if I wasn’t about to pass out from the pain.

Seeing June has helped me calm down a little. But it’s also zapped me of all my energy. It’s like I had only enough strength to get to her. And now that I know she’s alright, I can stop trying so hard to stay on my feet.