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I look back to Troy, crossing the distance between us. He’s backed himself into a corner in his rage and fear, and I close in on him, my gaze intent on his bloody, bruised face.
His chest heaves, and I can tell each breath is causing him pain. Good.
I get right in his face and lower my voice, even though I know he can still hear me.
“Ty obidel zhenshhinu, kotoruju ja ljublju. Esli by ja mog ubit' tebja sto raz, ja by ubil,” I tell him in a low voice.
His eyes flash, and it doesn’t matter if he understands the words or not. The intent is clear.
I grab the knife out of its sheath at my side, already stained with his blood. With a quick jab, I shove it upward between Troy’s ribs, and he gurgles out a cry of pain.
His body jerks as the knife pierces his heart, and then he crumples to the floor, his eyes wide and unseeing.
9
WILLOW
I stand frozen,watching as Troy dies.
Unlike when Vic and Malice tortured him earlier, it’s not big or loud. Just a stab and a gurgle and the flash of a bloody knife as Malice withdraws it.
Troy falls to the floor, and I wait to feel something like relief that he’s gone, that he can’t hurt me anymore. But I don’t. There’s nothing but that strangely numb feeling that I’ve had since the brothers showed up.
I was so relieved to see them at first, and for one bright moment, everything felt okay. But now I feel removed from the moment. Like everything that’s happening around me is happening to someone else.
Stepping forward tentatively, I stare down at Troy’s body.
He looks so small and nonthreatening now. Nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones, his pants still twisted around his ankles and blood smeared over his skin, not able to hurt me or anyone else ever again. All the same, my flesh crawls at the memory of his smirk and the coldness of his eyes.
“We need to get the fuck out of here,” Ransom says, breaking the spell I’m under. “Let’s take care of this place and make ourselves scarce. I don’t want to be here for another second. And you shouldn’t be here any longer either.”
He addresses the last bit to me, giving me a concerned look.
Of course he’s looking out for me. All of them are.
Ransom’s words are enough to make them all spring into action. They move like a well-oiled machine, and it reminds me strangely of the time they all showed up to my old apartment to handle the aftermath of Vic killing Carl.
The three of them fall into their roles so easily, doing their particular jobs to cover up the murder.
Victor grabs Troy’s laptop so he can go through it later. “There might be stuff on here that we can use against Troy’s family or Olivia,” he says.
Then he sets to work making sure that there’s no security footage that can tie them to this place. Nothing to lead back to the brothers.
Ransom and Malice are on the more destructive duty of burning the place to the ground. Malice starts making sure all the bodies of the guards are ready to go up in flames, and Ransom comes back from their car with the accelerant to speed up the process.
I just stand there, wrapped in Malice’s jacket. It barely covers my ass, leaving me feeling a bit chilly and exposed, but it’s better than being naked. And at least it smells like him, the musky, spicy scent calming my nerves a little. I stare around the house, still feeling disconnected from it all, like there’s a sheet of glass between me and the rest of the world, and I can only watch what’s happening.
This place was my prison for… I don’t even know how long. Days? A week? Two? Long enough that I built it up in my head like it was some kind of fortress I might never leave. But standing here now, it seems just like a regular house. Just a place where someone might live.
Not a place that was a living nightmare for me.
“Is that all the guards?” Ransom asks as he passes Malice.
“Yeah. I counted ’em.”
Ransom nods, spreading the acrid smelling liquid around. “Vic, we close?”
“Just about,” Vic replies, focused on the computer in front of him. “Making sure there aren’t any cameras I missed. Are we going back to the hotel from here?”
