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“In two days,” Pavel replies. I open my mouth, amped to protest that that’s two days too long. “We must prepare you on what to say. Your story has to come naturally. If any hint of deceit is detected, the plan will fail.”
Even though I hate that we have to wait, he’s right. If I were to go in there now, I would be charged with emotion, and I can’t allow my feelings to rule me. Saint is relying on me, so there is no room for error.
“Okay.” Pavel can sense my distaste at waiting, but I’ll make sure I’m a convincing liar once we leave here. So much so, even I’ll believe the lies.
“Excellent. You’ll say you have no clue where Alek is. You passed out after the explosion and woke up in the care of Sara. For all you know, he’s dead.”
On cue, Sara appears around the doorjamb. She really has done so much for me, and I honestly will never be able to repay her.
“I want to explain,” she says in a small voice, wringing her hands together nervously. “Saint was never going to let me get hurt. He asked me to trust him, and I did. I was to take your place for only a little while, but he promised if anything went wrong, he would get me out of there immediately.”
Max confirms her claims as he too appears. “It’s true. Saint asked me to ensure her safety. Both of yours,” he adds, alerting Alek to the fact that every single one of his confidants had turned against him.
How that must sting.
But Alek doesn’t allow his emotion to show—that’s what got him into this mess to start with.
Pavel isn’t one for sentiments as he continues to detail his plans. “Oscar won’t believe you because he saw you leave with Alek. You must earn his trust. But whatever happens, you mustn’t reveal that Alek is alive.”
Alek pales.
“Why?” I ask, wanting to iron out all the details and possible outcomes.
Pavel takes a breath, then continues. “Because he is our ace in the hole.”
“I will never help you,” Alek spits, standing tall. “You are a traitor. You all are.” That includes me.
Pavel isn’t bothered in the slightest by Alek’s insults. “Be that as it may, I don’t need you conscious to deliver you to the wolves. I’m not under your command anymore. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
A burst of Russian bounces between the men, each word getting more heated than the one before it. This will not end pretty.
“Enough!” I cry, placing my arms outward to stop them from advancing to kill one another. “You can whip your dicks out later. Now, let’s focus on what’s important, and that’s getting Saint out.”
“Finally, we agree on something,” Zoey says, examining her short nails, clearly bored by the testosterone-filled outburst.
Alek backs down first, surprising me. But I don’t mistake his retreat as weakness. He is simply biding his time. “Get out. All of you.”
Without a doubt, I know that includes me.
“With pleasure,” Pavel replies, running a hand over his shaved head. “You can hide under Mother Superior’s habit while we clean up the mess you’ve made.”
Zoey giggles while Sara’s lips twitch. How times have changed.
A small part of me, a part I wish would go away, feels sorry for Alek. This is a big shock to us all. We’re all grieving. The cause of our grief may be different, but we’ve all lost something. Alek has gone from hunter to hunted, and he now feels how I once did—imprisoned.
I don’t know what his plans are because we haven’t spoken about what the next step would be. I never believed we would be brothers in arms, but for so long, he was my only ally. My only chance at getting out of this country alive.
But now, I’m given an out. An out which doesn’t include him.
Swallowing down the sudden lump in my throat, I quickly excuse myself. “I’m going to pack.”
I don’t wait for anyone to reply and brush past Alek, who senses something is off. Being thrown together in such dire circumstances gives you an insight into the other person’s psyche. I don’t know how or why—I just know I don’t like it.
Getting out of here can’t come fast enough.
I can barely keep up with my own two feet as I race down the hallway. When I get to my room, I slam the door shut and lean against it, catching my breath. Once my hands stop shaking, I walk over to the dresser and pull out my things.
Even though my belongings barely fill a backpack, I doubt Oscar will allow me to keep any of it anyway. He will degrade me and punish me for what I did, so the luxury of wearing clothes will most likely be a thing of the past.
