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Shit.
How can he look at me in the same intense way he does during sex? It’s no different than being naked in public.
Not that everyone recognizes that look, but still.
It’s a major distraction in a possibly dangerous situation.
I clear my throat and stare ahead to concentrate better.
Which is kind of impossible, considering I’m sexually starved. Aside from that stupid torture session where he fucked me with all the objects in his nightstand and denied me the pleasure that comes with it, he hasn’t touched me again.
Yesterday, I came out of the shower dressed only in a towel and he looked at me as if he was angry.
No shit. It was like he hated seeing me that way or something, and I wordlessly headed to the closet and changed as fast as I could while biting back my frustration. My things are in the room I share with Yuri, but recently, Kirill has been allowing me to bring a change of clothes when I’m stationed as the night guard.
He doesn’t like to look at me, though.
Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore.
Maybe the sense of betrayal he has toward me is overshadowing everything else.
All of a sudden, the car swerves and comes to a screeching halt. The force is so strong that Rai bumps against the back of my seat.
“What is it?” Kirill asks the driver in Russian.
“Don’t know, sir. There’s something in the road—”
His words cut off when a shot hits his chest—straight through the bulletproof glass.
I don’t think about it as I pull out my gun.
We all rush out of the car as bullets fly everywhere.
I meet Vladislav’s and Viktor’s glances with the same thought.
We’re under attack and we need to protect our bosses.
The three of us and Maksim rush to the front line, facing soldiers who look like an army of ants. From their words and the orders shouted, they’re Albanians.
They’re the last thing we need at the moment.
Yes, we have disagreements with them, but I didn’t think they’d go as far as ambushing us in the middle of the road.
I catch a glimpse behind me, and after I make sure Kirill is taking cover behind one of the cars with Damien and Rai, I run to the front.
“Don’t be a fucking martyr.” I hear him screaming in my head like he did a long time ago, but I don’t stop.
I told him I’d offer my life in return for the shots he took because of me, and I meant it.
My priority is to protect him at any cost.
The bad news is that we’re outnumbered. Hugely so.
And because of that, we have to count our bullets. We hit a few, but I’m not as good with a handgun as I am with a sniper rifle. I still injure or kill anyone I shoot. Better than Viktor anyway.
He runs out of bullets first and jumps behind a nearby car for cover.
It’s only Vladislav and me now, but we’re running out, too.
Shit.
Shit.
This situation is a lot more dire than I originally thought. If they get us, it’ll be child’s play to kill Kirill and Damien, who I’m sure are the reason behind this whole attack.
With a battle cry, Vladislav and I eliminate seven of them combined, but that leaves me without any more bullets.
My shoulders drop as I stare back at Kirill, who’s shooting his own gun.
The world pauses for a moment. There are no more screams, shouts, or sounds of guns being fired. It’s just me and him suspended in the middle of nowhere. I promised that I’ll protect him with my life, but I just failed miserably.
“Forgive me,” I mouth in Russian.
“No!” he roars.
The palpable emotions ring in my head and I want to stop him. I have to, because he’s running toward me and he’ll get himself killed.
But before I can move, something hard hits my head.
Everything turns black.
14
SASHA
Something drips on my face.
I blink my eyes open and they fill with a red mist.
Blood.
Blood…
And more blood…
No, no, please.
A pool of it surrounds me while I lie on the ground and the stench of death fills my nostrils. I look up and a scream bubbles in my throat at the sight of bodies hanging from the sky.
“Sasha…” a haunted voice calls.
“Sachenka…”
“Malyshka…”
My mom.
Oh, God.
“Mama? Where are you?” I shout as loud as possible. I try to get up, but it’s like I’m strapped to the ground with invisible wires. I thrash and kick, but my limbs don’t move.
“Malyshka…” she calls again, her tone growing more haunted. “Malyshka.”
“Mama!!” I scream until my voice turns hoarse. “I’m here, Mama! I’m down here!”
“Sachenka…”
“Papa?” I choke on my tears. “Is that you, Papa?”
A shadow falls over me and I sob as his face perches over me and then my mother’s follows. “Malyshka.”
“Mama! Papa!” I try to reach a hand out, but I can’t move.
Mama drops to her haunches beside me and strokes my cheek. “You’ve grown so much, Malyshka.”
