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I sighed. “Let me guess. I’m naive for thinking you and Kristoff might be more than brothers-in-arms? Perhaps you are right. Maybe you two only bring out the worst in each other. I just figured that since you took him under your wing after what happened to his mother, you might actually care about him. That’s how normal humans work. But I guess you aren’t normal. And neither is Kristoff. I just wonder what will happen after you’ve reached your goals.”
I took a step forward and pressed my finger to his chest. Taut muscles tightened but he didn’t step back. “You made him believe that vengeance is all he has to live for. But what happens after that? Perhaps you don’t have an after, because you have no one to live for, but Kristoff does.” And right in that moment I decided to follow my gut. Ilya’s offer could wait, and Sokolov could go to hell. I wasn’t leaving Kristoff to this madman’s devices.
Sokolov’s lips thinned. “Does he now? I thought you had vowed to leave him?”
Damn Kristoff for telling him that. “I have,” I admitted, then gave him a smile. “But I changed my mind, as I’m sure you know is a woman’s prerogative.”
Especially after this nice little chat, I wanted to yell at him. This man was the main reason Kristoff was a scheming kingpin. Everything was about tactics to him, checks and balances. And Sokolov was the reason why Kristoff loved Machiavelli so much.
I gave Sokolov a pointed look. “And for the record, Machiavelli sucks. As a proud Russian, I’d think you would have better guidelines to follow.”
“Really? Like which ones?” For the first time a genuine smile tugged at his lips.
“Those of your own people, of course. There’s this Russian saying, ‘When Anger and Revenge get married, their daughter is called Cruelty.’ Isn’t that exactly what you hate Aslanov for? You might not care if you become as cruel as the very person you hate, but I’ll be damned if I let Kristoff follow your footsteps.”
11.
KRISTOFF
Nothing was as satisfying as punching a bag when you couldn’t beat the shit out of the person you really wanted to. Sokolov had left after going over our Russian expedition one more time. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t as eager to follow him. Which was strange because I had lived for action and carnage for the past decade.
I was Odysseus and Katya my siren. Right now, I was safely chained to the mast. The moment I was released I would go after her sweet voice, calling to me and causing me to risk drowning in deep water. Drowning and dying, unable to fulfill my vengeance and my oath to my mother. It might be worth it. At least I'd die for my woman. Any death in her name would be an honor.
I hit the bag three more times in a rapid succession. Then I kept hitting it until my muscles burned and sweat dripped from my brow.
Aslanov was holed up in his castle somewhere in Moscow. The old pakhan needed to die so Sokolov would give me the intel on senator Ryan I needed in order to bring that bastard down. Killing him would be far easier, but also merciful. I didn’t do mercy.
To bring him down, I needed to take Katya’s father down first. I didn’t give a crap about Aslanov, since the man was a ruthless monster. Not that I was any less of a monster myself, but I did draw the line at murdering children. It had been years, but in Russia the underworld still whispered of the Sokolov massacre. The only thing holding me back was the fact that Katya might blame me for murdering her father forever. I couldn’t bear to have that rift between us. I couldn’t even deal with the gap between us right now.
I stepped back and kneed the punching bag with a high kick with my left leg, then my right. A double combo followed, but I was still all wound up. Aslanov needed to die, there was no question about that. I would never let Katya leave me, that wasn’t a question either. Perhaps Sokolov was right, and I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. Then again, he was also the man who had taught me to never except an either-or situation, and instead look for a third option when the first two didn’t appeal to me.
Just as I was pondering that, Katya strode into the gym. She headed straight at me. I inhaled her luscious body which was clad in a white tank top and pink skirt. Immediately I imagined her in high, strappy heels instead of flip-flops. Who was I kidding? I didn’t give a crap what kind of shoes she wore, as long as I got to have her legs wrapped around my neck.
There was a determined look on her face as she crossed the dojo, skipped past a set of free weights, and stopped right in front of me. Her arms hugged her torso, then went to her head where she twirled a lock of pink-blonde hair around a finger.
I waited until she finished pacing up and down.
“I need you to give me something,” she declared. When I gave her a quizzical look, she added, “Something so I can know this will work between us. I need to feel that you want this to work between us as much as I do. So we can have a fresh start. I can’t go into the Minotaur’s labyrinth all by myself. You need to hold my hand while we follow the thread together.”
I’d follow her into Hades, let alone a labyrinth, but I got the gist of her speech. She was handing me an olive branch. I wondered what had brought this on, but I wasn’t stupid enough to question it.
I held out my hands to her. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”
“No more lies,” she demanded, as she started to remove my boxing gloves. “Everything concerning me, you will tell me.”
Everything was a lot. I didn’t think she could appreciate what agreeing to her request really meant. Honesty had its limits, so I decided to opt for a compromise. “Anything not concerning your safety.”
“No, everything,” she countered.
When my hands were free from my gloves, I brushed a finger over her cheek.
“I would give my right arm for you, Ekaterina. But don’t expect me to agree to any concession on anything concerning your safety.”
That was never happening. Not as long as I had breath in my lungs, and the strength to stand on my feet.
***
KATYA
