“Take them.”
After clearing the living room of the men crossing it, I thrust Justine toward Dimitri. She’s so stunned by the turn of events, she doesn’t realize who has ahold of her until I shout, “Go with Dimitri. He’ll keep you safe.”
She’s frightened, but she still manages to nod her head.
Just as I’m about to launch Blaire in their direction, I spot a man charging for Justine. He has a machete in his hand and the face of a murderer.
With a roar, I line up the barrel of my gun over Dimitri’s left shoulder then fire. When the perp’s eye meets his brain, the blood splattering from his mouth adds to the vibrancy of Justine’s hair.
It also shreds the confidence from her eyes.
Screaming, she crouches down to cover her ears with her hands. She’s not bowing in fear; she’s striving to avoid the numerous bullets being fired her way.
Her drop saves her from injury; Dimitri isn’t as lucky. He spins in a circle, the bullet rocketing through his shoulder responsible for his ballet move. Although he’s been bitten by a bullet, he manages to take down an additional three assailants before a second bullet to the stomach silences his fight.
I watch him fall to the ground, cradling his stomach before peering over my shoulder. Bullet cases litter the ground where Rico once stood, but he is nowhere to be seen.
It is now me versus an army.
My life or myAhren’s.
When forced to pick one or the other, you can be certain only one decision will ever be reached. I’ll kill a thousand men before I’ll let anyone hurt Justine. I’ll even die if it guarantees her safety.
With my heart hammering my ribs, I push off my feet and sprint in the direction Justine is crouched. Another three mens’ eyes blacken with death before an empty magazine changes my crusade from a gun battle to an all-out brawl.
The death toll from my hands is as high as my knife and gun combined, meaning another two men lie lifeless on the floor in Rico’s kitchen by the time I get within an inch of Justine, but my endeavor comes too late. A man has her by the hair, his hold so tight, her tippy toes struggle to scrape the ground.
The knife piercing the tender skin on her neck has me on edge, but the numerous red dots lighting up her shirt are the biggest cause of my panic. The fear in her eyes makes my anger so white-hot, even with them locked on me, I still snap the neck of the man kneeling in front of me. I hate her seeing me like this, but I need the men swarming her to be on guard. Because
There is only one difference between a madman and me.
The madman thinks he is sane.
I know I am mad.
--Salvador Dali
As I step over the man’s lifeless body, the tick in my jaw grows as frantic as the pulse in Justine’s neck. “You have to the count of five to let her go, or I’ll hunt down every member of your family, gut them like dogs, then hang them throughout your hometown as a warning of what happens when you disrespect me.” My voice is one I haven’t heard in years. It was last used the day I realized I was only a boy living the life of a man. “Five. Four. Three—”
“You can’t threaten a man who is an orphan. You should know that better than anyone, Niki.”
The interrupter’s mocking scorn didn’t come from the man clutching Justine’s hair. It came from my left, from the direction Rico was once standing.
After assuring Justine with my eyes that she has nothing to worry about, I swing them in the direction the voice came from. Although the man’s face is covered with a thick balaclava, I know who he is. I thought his voice was the voice of reason when I admitted to killing his father, but tonight’s exchange isn’t just teaching me to always trust my gut; it’s reminding me why I should never show mercy.
I spared Maxsim’s life when his father orchestrated a takeover bid on my compound, believing he had nothing to do with it. He won’t be so lucky this time around.
“My warning is not just for your goon. It is for every man in this room. Don’t make the same mistake your father did, Maxsim. Stand down, then I’ll only kill you instead of your mother, your brothers, and your sisters. I may even spare the bitch you call your wife.”
Realizing his cover has been blown, Maxsim tugs off his balaclava. He has the same deadly cat eyes his father had and the same abhorrent sneer. He’s just twenty years younger and a lot more reckless.
He moves closer to me, his steps much too haughty for a man minutes from death. “Sansi was nurtured to be just like you. Born into a broken, violent marriage, he was raised by a monster to kill on command and show no mercy.” He smiles a lopsided grin when his eyes absorb the clutch his beast has on Justine. “A snap of my fingers will have your queen slumped at your feet before you complete an entire blink. You like killing pretty little white women, don’t you, Sansi?”
The brute fisting Justine’s hair laughs a mocking, unremorseful chuckle. It isn’t the snicker of a sane man. It’s similar to the sound I made when I was beaten to within an inch of my life. It proves the man standing before me isn’t a man. He’s merely a shell for the monster hiding inside of him.
“There are rules you cannot cross, centuries of guidelines that protect her from men like you.” I suck in a grateful breath when the fear surging through my body isn’t heard in my voice. I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t bow for anyone who isn’t my queen.
Maxsim’s chest thrusts as recklessly as mine, his sneer just as violent. “Rules you broke when you slit my father’s throat.”
