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She knows why I’m here.
As though reading my mind, Krystof laughs once more, a slow, building laugh as he clicks the safety off.
“This is a poor threat, isn’t it?” he chuckles. “After all, you’re here to take her out, aren’t you?”
Again, I don’t see surprise in her face. Just acceptance.
My mind goes back to the small boy I saw in these dungeons only weeks ago. Similar to him, in Ginger’s eyes I see a person resigned to their fate.
It’s for the best,a voice in my mind reminds me.Shoot them both, complete the job. It’s for the best.
My hand is steady as I lift it, pointing the gun in their direction. Krystof’s eyes meet mine.
I forgot something about my big brother, and that’s how quick he always was.
When I trained for years, I won’t lie and say there weren’t times I aspired to be as strong, as capable, as I remembered my oldest brother being. As a child, I would watch him train with Vasily, envious of the praise doted on him by our father.
He always was quickest on the draw.
Before I can do anything, one of her knives is out of the holster and in Krystof’s hands. He pulls her up by the hair so their faces meet. She grunts but doesn’t scream, though I’m sure it must be painful. He waves the knife in her face, and I watch, gun in my hand forgotten.
Krystof smiles at her, leaning forward to kiss her when I hear the words, “I know about the baby.”
Everything seems to happen in slow motion, my body refusing to move.
I watch as he brings the knife down to her stomach, the scream wrenching from her throat cutting me deeper than anything ever has.
“Galina!”
He drops her body to the floor then bolts toward the front of the room. I watch her fall, blood pouring from her abdomen.
Baby?
I’m about to rush to her when Krystof’s fleeing form catches my eye. Fury pumps through my blood as I hurl myself across the room with a shout, tackling him to the ground and into the hall. We tumble over corpses, blood covering us as we roll. I feel a sharp pain on the final roll and realize the knife is protruding from my thigh, embedded several inches into the muscle.
I can barely move that leg with it in place, but I don’t take the time to remove it, shifting myself so I can throw my body over him, my hands quickly finding his throat. His teeth clench as I squeeze, and realization settles in his eyes.
“P-please,” he manages to get out before I’m squeezing too tightly for him to speak. I lean my face into his.
“Beg me,” I tell him, and his eyes widen even farther, but I give him no air with which to speak or beg for his life.
Once I see his eyes begin to darken, I know he’s about to lose consciousness. Steeling myself, I remove one hand and yank the knife from my leg with a shout before slamming it down into his chest.
There’s a loud crack as the blade penetrates through his ribs and into his lungs, then I bring it up, crashing it down once more. I can hear the blood bubbling in his lungs and out the holes as I pull the blade free, standing above him.
I’m trying to think of something witty to say as he suffocates at my feet when a small sound from the meeting room brings my attention back from the bloodshed. Leaving Krystof to drown in his own blood, I rush back into the room and around the desk. A lone board member is shaking, crawling along one edge of the room. I growl, moving the several feet needed to snap his neck before turning to kneel at Ginger’s side. My knees are instantly wet from the pool of blood beneath her.
Still conscious, she looks up at me. Fuck, she looks so pale.
My eyes go to her stomach, a steady flow of blood still pouring out.
“You came back,” she says for the third time, bringing a hand up to my face. Her fingertip traces the biggest scar, and she smiles. Fuckingsmiles.
“I can’t seem to help myself,” I tell her, my own hand coming up to cradle hers. She lets off a small hum of pleasure and starts to open her mouth before her eyes begin to darken.
“Ginger?” I shake her lightly, an unfamiliar type of fear coursing through me. “GINGER!”
Chapter 44
