AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I was too soft on you." His knuckles land on the boy's jaw, splitting his lip. "You want to die to protect that cunt? Fine! I can always start again and make a replacement. And next time, I won’t make the same mistake I did with you!"
"Get away from him!" Mom yells, leaping onto Yevgeniy's back.
Hunching like a bull ready to buck, he half-rises, spinning as my mother hangs on desperately. "You too, Katyusha?" In a single easy swing he loops his hands around her and slams her to the floor. The whole room shakes—it resonates in my teeth. He turns back to punching Ruslan.
Rage courses through my blood. Reaching inside my shirt, I feel for the small object I've kept close to my heart—the rose brooch from my father.
Clutching it like a dagger, I run at Yevgeniy, stabbing the sharp end of the rose brooch into his shoulder. "Leave him alone! You fucking asshole!"
He shouts, surprised by the assault. I wrench my arm back, stabbing him a second time, and then a third. The wounds are small but his grimace and the blood they draw are satisfying. My mother crawls back to us, joining me in trying to force Yevgeniy away from their son.
Together, we're able to maneuver him towards the window.
He's not talking anymore, just making a low grinding noise in his throat. I'm using all my effort to hold him back now, panting until my throat is dry, occasionally losing my grip from my sweaty palms. Mom has her whole body tangled on his waist, her hair hanging in her face. We're doing it—we're protecting Ruslan.
The solid impact of Yevgeniy's fist into my stomach knocks me back. I stagger, landing on my backside, the rose brooch remaining in his skin. There's such vicious hatred in his eyes that it's like he's still punching me.
Quickly, I cradle my belly, wrapping myself around it like I'm tying myself in a knot.
No... my baby!
"Galina!" Mom yells.
"Galina," Yevgeniy mocks her, twisting with his free arm to pull the pin from his arm. He throws it at me; it skids into my leg. Fisting my mother's hair, he tears pieces of it free, the strands floating away as my mother cries out in pain.
I watch helplessly as he slams her to the floor again. She tucks her knees to her chest, curling into a ball, trying to protect herself from his next assault.
But he doesn't punch her. He doesn't kick. Straddling my mother, Yevgeniy wraps his hands around her skinny throat and starts squeezing. She bats at his powerful forearms as her face starts turning blue.
"No..." I heave as a sharp pain rushes through me. "Stop it... Mom..."
Yevgeniy's breathing becomes labored, his grin widening until it makes his jaw click. This isn't simple revenge—he's enjoying this.
I inch across the floor, not caring that I'm getting rug burn. Please let me move, please! I need to help her! My body won't obey, each small movement is sending another jagged agony in my stomach.
Mom’s hands start slowing down. The feral grin on Yevgeniy’s face widens.
No! No! No!
I'll never reach her in time.
The door is kicked inward, the hinges breaking off on the bottom, causing it to swing at an angle. Yevgeniy whips around to see who's interrupted us. His eyes protrude, his hands loosening on Mom's throat. She coughs weakly, sucking in oxygen while her skin changes back to normal.
"I expected you would show up eventually," Yevgeniy says flatly.
At first I don't believe what I'm seeing. There's a man in the doorway. He's gripping a rifle as long as his torso. When he turns his silvery blue eyes at me, relief floods through my bones, my muscles, giving me enough strength to rise onto my hands and knees. "Arsen," I breathe.
He spares a glance at me before aiming the gun at Yevgeniy.
"Ah-ah-ah," Yevgeniy taunts, wrenching my mother tighter to his chest as he rises to his full height, dragging her along, not caring how she struggles. "You wouldn't want to hit her."
Arsen's fingers curl firmly around the butt of the rifle. Every finger except the one on the trigger. He's in a standoff with Yevgeniy, one he plans to win. He could end Yevgeniy's life in a simply flex of his hand. Years of his seething hatred and lust for revenge finally sated in a split second.
But I can see in the depths of his eyes... in the way his brow furrows ever slightly... that he's not going to shoot.
He promised to save my mother and me, he's not going to break his word. The gentle rasp of nervous breathing reaches my ears. Looking over, I spot Ruslan. His whole face is a swollen mess, his bottom lip cracked and bleeding onto the front of his shirt. His small body quivers from both pain and fear.
He locks his eyes on mine. Be strong, I mouth.
