I have control this time.
I have a say in what happens.
Fate might have brought my matestome, but we’re the only ones who get to decide what we do with our life together. If I want to finally start living that life, I better hurry up and get back to the farmhouse now before my epiphany turns into a panic attack.
I place my hands on the wood, gripping the bench on either side of my hips and watch the families around me enjoying the fair as I get to my feet.
Maybe I should bring my boys to this.
I have no idea if anyone other than Leon would agree to going let alone enjoy their time here, but they won’t say no to me. And if I throw in the fact that Styx has a niece, thatwe allhave a beautiful, bubbly ball of sunshine out there that he hasn’t mentioned once, I bet we can bring her with us, too.
With what I have no doubt is a stupid smile on my face, I brush the dust off the ass of my jean shorts and take a deep breath, only to have it knocked from my lungs before my air supply is cut off completely.
I kick my legs as I try to scream, flailing my body back and forth against the much larger one. I’m desperately trying to break free from the deadlocked grip its arm has around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides and squeezing life out of me, pushing what little air I had left, out against the cloth covering my nose and mouth.
I jerk against the man holding me, squirming as hard as I can, wiggling and twisting the best I can when suddenly my body starts to go limp. My vision blurs around the edges as it starts to fade to black, my ears ringing as my pulse drops a few beats above medical emergency level, my hands turning icy cold while my legs stop moving.
This has to be karma.
Karma for my fucked up responses to everything I learned today.
That was fucking fast.
Let’s just hope my mate bond is too new for any of my boys to feel what’s happening to me now, or whatever the hell I’m about to go through. I don’t want that for them, don’t want my punishment to become theirs, and that runs through my mind on a loop until I hear something that changes the game entirely.
“Watch her fucking head, you stupid piece of shit. You break it, you buy it, and Hayk has a big ass price tag on this omega bitch.”
Then I promptly pass the fuck out.
CHAPTER 31
LEON
CHERRY WAVES - DEFTONES
“Ithink we should frame these.” I spread out the physical copies of Niko and Dimitri’s hits next to Liv’s, my eyes pinging between them line by line, comparing the handwriting with an arched brow. “I love the personalized stationery. The letterhead makes it look so professional.”
“Would you stop fucking around?” Dimitri hisses as he empties another drawer. “We need to find the rest of those files so we can get the hell out of here.”
I wave him off as I plop down behind Boris’ desk, rolling the chair forward while I lean closer to the paperwork in front of me. He definitely keeps detailed records, the fucking orders are a cross between a birth certificate and death certificate, and a page out of the census records.
Whatever information he found, whatever facts he dug up on a target like Liv, or in this case, his son and stepson, it’s spelled out in great detail. Family tree, birthdate, hometown and current location, schooling and work history. There’s a spot for the transaction and original party requesting the hit, but according to D, there’s a separate document for that as well as something that specifies who was to carry out the execution,what weapon they used, etc. It’s a ridiculous amount of information to have for someone who’s about to die, but I have to give him credit for being so thorough.
Thorough, but stupid.
“You know these two are forgeries, right?”
I hear the three of them stop rummaging through cabinets and drawers rather than see it, but I don’t bother looking up. Instead, I stay fixated on the minor, nearly undetectable differences between D and Niko’slove notes, and Liv’s.
“What do you mean forgeries?” Our omega whispers as he quickly rounds the desk and comes to stand behind me.
I nod as he grabs the back of my chair and leans over my shoulder as I slowly trace Boris’ signature on the two newer documents before doing the same on the older. “It’s barely noticeable but the pressure is different, the loops were made at a slightly different angle. They aren’t as fluid even if they appear that way. This was a practiced hand versus an experienced one.”
Niko puts his palm on the desk and leans until his face is about an inch or two from the paper, staring until he sees what I do. “Holy shit, you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “Hardly, but this one you nailed.”
