Page 79 of The Pakhan’s Heir

I hunker down, returning fire to give them some cover. Rikki shouts back at me, “We got it! Get to Nona!”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. As much as my instinct is to give them backup and fight with them, I take to the hallway behind me instead, to follow that sound we just heard.

And just like that, I recognize this area. This hallway leads to the parlor where Rikki got jumped the first time… which means it leads to the panic room. My mind races as I pick up the pace. The only other person who would definitely know about that room is Nona, and if she was able to get to it and Slavik found her…

Hold on, Nona. I’m coming.

29

NONA

The door on this side of the panic room has a single handle, hooked to the door like a small railing, smooth and silver metal that’s cool to the touch.

There were a couple of times where I would hide in this room when Papa’s rage was over the edge. I’d stay in here until he got it all out, something that would oftentimes result in him smashing up my bedroom and destroying some of my most precious toys.

It’s amazing what you learn to lose when the most important thing you learn from your parent is how to avoid them when they get angry.

Those couple of times, he didn’t find me and I was able to wait him out. I never knew if it ever occurred to him to try and find me hiding here or if he just decided it wasn’t worth the effort to look once his temper cooled. All I did know is that by the time I saw that he was drunk and asleep somewhere, I could slip out and start cleaning the mess he left in the wake of his terrible temper.

This time… while it might have seemed similar at first, it is so different. I don’t think he’s ever really wanted to kill me before today. And that drive has caused him to seek me out in the most logical place that I might hide from him.

I hear his footsteps in the hallway behind the door and I start to shake again. He can’t open this door from that side. If he could, what would be the point of even having this room? I’m safe here. I’m⁠—

“You think you can hide from me in there, don’t you?” his muffled voice comes through the metal of the door between us. “You must think you’re pretty smart to choose the panic room to get away from me.”

I cover my mouth to stifle a whimper. Maybe if he thinks I’m not here, he’ll go away.

“You can’t run away from the inevitable,” he says. “You can’t keep yourself safe from your crimes, little girl.”

I hear the soft sounds of sliding against the door. I turn to the monitor wall behind me and the camera just outside this door shows him sliding his hand over the door slowly.

I also see that he has a knife in his hand. The blade shines up at me as if it’s speaking its own language. We’re coming for you, Nona. You and your little baby…

Papa takes a step back from the door and for a split second, I think that he’s going to leave. He doesn’t. He looks up at the camera, at me, and he smiles. Then he walks to the opposite wall and places his hand on it.

And then I hear a click in the door behind me.

I whirl around and grab the handle, pulling on it to hold it closed. It moves slightly, then locks itself back into place.

“Tricky little thing,” he mutters. He keeps his hand on the wall and I hear the lock disengaging again and again. I hear him laugh. “You can’t keep holding the door forever.”

He leans against the door and his laugh turns into a sickening cackle. I hold onto the handle for dear life, but the door starts to jerk away from me and the smooth metal starts to slide out of my hands.

“Leave me alone!” I shout desperately.

“You’re not getting away… from… me!”

The door jerks hard and flies from my hand, swinging open. I stumble back as the hallway opens up to me. Papa stands there, his knife in his hand.

“Hello, Dochurka,” he says.

He comes at me and his arm swings back, ready to stab me. Instinct takes over and I grab his arm with both hands, stopping its trajectory. He puts his whole body weight into it, leaning into me. My arms start to bend and I realize I can’t hold him back any longer, so I turn, twisting out of the way as I let his arm go.

He stumbles forward and his free arm nearly clotheslines me. I manage to get around him, but only for a moment as he sticks out his foot. I trip, falling ass over tea kettle out of the panic room and falling face first on the floor. My forearms break my fall, scraping the marble floor as I skid away from him.

I turn over on my back just as he stalks toward me…

Then everything stops. We both hear the sound of gunshots somewhere nearby. Papa looks up and freezes for a moment. Then he mutters, “Shit.”