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“I’ve been promised you, my sweet tight assed little darling. I get to fuck you every which way I can. Front and back. Over and over. You’ll love it because I know you’re a slut at heart. Like all women. Now get in there or I’ll shoot you in the knees. See how far you can run then.”
“This isn’t you, Terry. Come on. You’re not this big an asshole.”
“Times change, honey. You had your chance to sweet talk me but you decided to act all prim and proper, letting that Bratva prick fuck you. Whining at me that you weren’t ready but as soon as Russian cock comes along, you open your legs and sing for your supper. It isn’t fair. What’s wrong with me?”
“We going to start this game again?”
“Nope. You’re going to get in the van. We’re going to go on a little trip. At the end of it, I’m going to fuck you while you scream. Should have said yes when you had the chance. Not acted all prim and proper and cobweb pussied.”
“I’m not getting in the van.”
He points the gun down at my legs. “Last chance or I cripple you.” In the same instant, there’s a shot in the distance, a crack like a car backfiring. It echoes through the trees.
“What the fuck was that?” Terry asks, forgetting me for a moment. He runs over to the driver’s side, leaning into the seat, saying something to the man who’s out of sight there, steering wheel in his hands.
Terry steps back a moment later, his free hand covered in blood. “Someone shot him,” he says, glancing at me before staring into the trees, squinting as he does so.
He waves the gun around, letting off one shot after another into the forest. “Come on out, you prick,” he yells. “Fight me like a man, you Russian bastard.”
Another crack, this time closer. As the sound fades, I look at Terry. He’s holding a hand up to his neck. Blood is spurting through his fingers. The color’s gone from his cheeks.
He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Lifting the gun takes all the effort in the world. He grunts as he points it my way.
Before I can react he squeezes the trigger but nothing happens. He’s got no bullets left.
He falls to his knees, blood soaking his front. He looks up at me, blinking slowly. Then he keels onto his side and falls still, the blood forming a thick puddle underneath him.
I spin around and look into the trees. Am I next? Is this how I die?
A figure emerges into the open, a sniper rifle in his hand.
“Alexsei?” I say as my husband marches up to me. “Is that really you?”
2
Alexsei
Before I can answer, she slaps me. “Terry could have shot me,” she says, cheeks flushing with color. “He pulled the trigger. He could have shot me.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply. “Your asshole ex is dead. You’re safe.”
“Why’d you let him pull the trigger. What if he’d shot me?”
“I counted how many times he fired. I knew he was empty. Why risk giving away my location when he was already dying?”
“So it’s fine that it scared the living shit out of me, right? That part doesn’t bother you?”
“You’re a big girl, you can handle it.”
“Dammit, Alexsei, why are you so infuriating?”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you. Wait there.” I walk over to the van and drag the driver out, dumping him on the ground next to Terry.
I make a call to my clean up crew, telling them to get here and deal with the mess. Then I take my phone to pieces, dumping theparts on the ground and stomping on them.
“Why did you do that?” Mila asks, looking at me like I’ve gone mad.
“We need to be off grid for a while. No phones, no emails, no cards. Cash only wherever we go.”
