“Yeah. But we’ll start with him,” I said, nodding toward Felix.
“And you’re planning to carry two unconscious men through a luxury hotel without anyone noticing?”
“I was thinking we pretend they’re just drunk. You know, after a long party.”
Sashko made a face. “It’s either that or chop them up here, I guess.”
I shrugged. “If you feel like getting messy, I don’t mind.”
He waved a hand. “No, no. Your idea’s better. Less work. For me at least.”
I kept Kira in the room—no fucking way I’d leave her alone with Felix, even unconscious.
We moved quickly, Felix limp between us. I’d left the knife buried in his shoulder on purpose—remove it and he’d bleed out too fast. The metal sealed more than it wounded. He just had to stay alive—for now.
Near the door, I crouched and unfastened the belts at his ankles and wrists.Carrying him bound would’ve drawn attention I didn’t need. I slung a towel over his shoulders to conceal the blade. The fewer witnesses, the better.
We hauled him through the hallway, each of us gripping an arm while his feet dragged uselessly behind him—right as we started playing our part.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, letting out a short laugh. “Look at him. I swear this is the last time I’m hauling this pathetic drunk out of somewhere.”
Sashko barked a laugh. “You said that last time. And the time before that.”
“Yeah, well maybe this time he’ll choke on his own puke and save us the trouble,” I said.
Sashko shifted Felix’s arm higher on his shoulder and looked down at him with open disgust. “Guy drinks half a bottle, starts a fight he can’t finish, then pisses himself like a damn toddler.”
I snorted. “Half a bottle? Don’t flatter him. This idiot was wobbling after two glasses.”
“True,” Sashko said. “Honestly I’m amazed he even managed to throw a punch before collapsing like this.”
“You call that a punch?” I said, glancing down at Felix’s limp body. “My grandmother hits harder than that.”
The few hotel workers we passed barely looked up. Either they’d seen worse on a Friday night, or they knew better than to get involved. Maybe both.
We dropped him onto the back seat and went to get the other one.
We lifted him together—one arm over each shoulder like we were helping a drunk buddy home from the bar.
“Damn, bro,” Sashko grunted, adjusting his grip. “Tell me you didn’t screw her with the guy still breathing in the corner.”
“I could lie.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll just pretend you said no.”
We paused to adjust the body again. I nearly dropped the bastard when his head lolled back against my shoulder like a watermelon.
Sashko said, “So… you and Kira. Serious?”
I snorted. “Define serious.”
“Like ‘you fucked the boss’s daughter, assaulted her fiancé, and now I’m your accomplice in a late-night body dump’ kind of serious.”
I grinned. “Then yeah. Serious.”
“You’re insane.”
I smirked. “You promised me war,brother. I’m just holding you to it.”
