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Tugging at Galina’s hair absently, Yevgeniy smiles viciously at me. “How did Galina know where I was? How did she end up here before you did?”
“Arsen …” she whimpers plaintively.
“She says your name like she actually loves you!” he laughs. “She’s a very good liar, isn’t she?”
Shoving at his arm, Galina tries to break away, but Yevgeniy clings to her even tighter. “I’m not a liar!” she cries.
“Galina didn’t betray me,” I tell Yevgeniy. “You can’t trick me into believing that.”
“I don’t have to trick you. Here, see for yourself.” He tosses something toward me. My grip tenses on my gun; I almost aim at him, ready to fire on instinct alone. I hold back because I might hit Galina or Katya. The phone slides to a stop in the snow at my feet, leaving a small wake.
“What’s this?” I demand.
“Go on, have a look,” he coaxes me.
Crouching without taking my eyes off him, I pick up the phone. My attention flicks between it and Yevgeniy. The screen blinks to life at a press of my thumb. There are messages, lots of them. They’re all between Galina … and Yevgeniy? My stomach begins to turn itself inside out the longer I read. “No,” I whisper.
“It’s like I said.” His smirk could cut glass. “She’s a very good liar.”
The phone falls to the ground. Everything feels numb, but not from the cold. Clenching my fist, I try to warm my sluggish muscles. Betrayal has slowed me down, making me confused and weak. How could she do this?
“Galina … why?” I ask in disbelief.
“Arsen! It’s not what it looks like!” she screams, her voice shattering.
She came here by herself … She planned this ... all of it ... right under my nose. And for what? To stop me from killing Ruslan? She chose his life over mine?
I lift my eyes, glaring savagely at Yevgeniy. She won’t stop me from ending this, not when I’ve come this far.
Galina thrashes in Yevgeniy’s grip, pulling toward me. Her eyes drip with tears. Both her cheeks and nose have gone a blazing red, as dark as her lips, which are curled back as she sobs. Lifting my gun, I stare down the muzzle, trying to hold it steady. It wavers between Galina and Yevgeniy.
I have to kill him.
This is my chance.
I can’t shoot … not when I might hit her.
Galina ...
The tip of the gun angles downward until it’s pointing at the snow. No amount of hurt I feel could make me risk her life. As long as Yevgeniy is using her as a shield, I can’t fire. I have to think—I need a plan, and fast. There has to be a way to?—
A roar splits the air. It echoes through the wind, bouncing off the snow and ice and through my teeth. It’s so loud it hurts.
No, it’s not the noise that hurts. It’s more than that. This is …
The pain billows up and out. The intensity spreads from my ears to my flesh. Helplessly, I watch as my gun drops to the ground. The feeling has vanished from my hand like the nerve endings have been sliced straight off. I try to kneel and pick it up, but no part of me is listening anymore. Messages from my brain to my body are getting stopped.
“Galina …” I gasp, dropping limply to my knees in the snow.
She is shrieking my name. But she sounds so far away.
All at once the agony strikes me—I inhale sharply, placing a palm to my side where the pain is radiating from. It’s warm and wet. My fingers come away, soaked in red.
And that’s when I realize …
I’ve been shot.
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