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That had been the moment I’d shifted my ventures from being a true mercenary to an assassin. Diego had allowed himself to get too close to a girl who belonged to a powerful sheik. That had almost cost him everything. I’d been forced to drag him onto the plane, his bullet-ridden body covered in her blood. But she was alive.
At least when I’d forced him to leave.
I’d known what they would do to her, and he was right. I hadn’t intervened.
“I thought you’d forgotten about that,” I said quietly.
“You never forget something like that, Kostya. Never. It burns you up inside, feeding on your dreams, turning almost every minute of every day into a nightmare. That’s why I have no problem taking a life.” He powered down the entire glass, immediately refilling it. In all the years since the catastrophic event, I’d never seen him this way.
I knew why.
He’d shut down just like I’d done two decades before. All because I’d encouraged him to do so. Encouraged? Hell, I’d demanded he forget about her.
“Adara,” he said mostly under his breath. “It’s the first time I’ve said her name in years.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Say?” he chortled as he turned his head toward me. “You can’t say or do anything about Adara. She’s dead. Tortured. Mutilated. But you can do something about what the fuck is going on in here.” He shoved his finger against my heart, his muscles tensing as if preparing for a fight. “You’re willing to give up everything to protect her. I think it’s time you told her that right after you make certain she fully comprehends that her life as she knew it is basically over. If Volkov doesn’t use and break her then another cockroach will. That’s the world we live in, myfriend.”
I took a deep breath, holding it. There was nothing I could say to calm his anger or mine. As he walked away from me, he brushed hard against my chest. I watched as he headed for a seat, purposely trying to avoid talking to me any further. When I looked away, I noticed Emily had watched the entire terse discussion, likely overhearing some aspects if not the entire conversation.
In my world there was no margin for error and until that mission nine years before, there hadn’t been. I’d developed a task force of former military men from different countries. The United States. Russia. Colombia. Germany. Italy. They were the best at what they did, some turned mercenaries themselves while others had burned out from the system, the horrific conditions and treatments they’d been forced to endure leaving tremendous scars. That had made them excellent soldiers.
I’d lost twelve men that day, Diego and two others critically wounded. That was the last day I’d allowed myself to feel anything but anger.
While I’d retaliated, torching the sheik’s entire palace, it hadn’t soothed the scars. Sighing, I headed in her direction, easing down in the seat next to her. She’d been nursing the same bottle of water for over six hours, issuing another hunger strike given her mother’s conditions.
Or because of my stoic, unemotional behavior.
I leaned forward, shifting my drink from one hand to the next. “I was four when I was shoved into an orphanage. At least that’s what I was told only a few days before I ran away from the shithole I’d been stuck in. The caseworker didn’t give me a reason why I’d been dropped off with a blanket and a fucking teddy bear. I guess it didn’t really matter. I was eleven at that point and could fend for myself.”
“You were on the streets since you were eleven?” she asked in a whisper.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Emily. I made the decision. I fought and scraped my way through, leaving Russia when I was twenty.”
“What about school? What about a family, holidays? Pets?”
I laughed bitterly, taking another swig of my drink, bile forming in my throat. “School. I went when I could. Only later I got my GED after I reached America. You might find it difficult to believe I went to college, a partial scholarship.”
“That’s incredible. How?”
I looked at her, unable to keep a slight smile off my face seeing the light in her eyes. “Does that mean you don’t believe I’m intelligent enough?”
She pressed her hand against her mouth, laughing while a blush swept up both cheeks. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. That’s amazing what you were able to accomplish. Just amazing.”
“Then why didn’t I use my degree in business administration for better, legitimate purposes?”
Emily frowned then took the glass out of my hand, taking a sip. “That’s not what I meant either.”
“I think that’s exactly what you meant. I tried to live a straight life, but the blood of a warrior was far too strong pulling me in an entirely different direction. Once a bad seed, always a bad seed.”
“But you’re not a bad seed, Kostya. You were abandoned, which is just about the most horrible thing I can imagine a child going through.”
Goddamn, her sweet face and lilting voice were mesmerizing. All I could think about was pulling her into my arms, holding her until I could promise that I’d be able to keep her safe. Sadly, I wasn’t certain that was possible. She would always have a target over her head. While her father had started the chaos that had become her life, I’d driven the nails into her coffin.
“I don’t make excuses for what and who I am, Emily. But you were right in that I could care about animals because I didn’t have to worry about them abandoning me. Only I was wrong about that as well.”
“What are you talking about?”
