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Unable to stop the question, I ask, “Why did you choose him instead of me?”
Alek takes a deep breath before he answers, “Vincent couldn’t take it anymore. He reached his limit.” Guilt tightens his features. “I just couldn’t let Prodi shoot you.”
Climbing to my feet, I wrap my arms around Alek’s neck and hug him as hard as I can. I press a kiss to his neck while he grabs hold of me.
When I close my eyes, I feel the intense bond between us.
Four years later and I just know I’m already falling in love with him again.
It’s like we were destined to be together, and nothing will change the fact that our fates are intertwined.
Chapter 39
Alek
I didn’t stay late so Everleigh could get a good night’s rest. With Viktor in Las Vegas for the meeting with the Priesthood, it gives me the perfect opportunity to assassinate Brayden Kelly.
If Kelly is keeping tabs on Viktor, he won’t expect the attack.
I park the G-Wagon near the docks, and armed with a sniper gun, a small rocket launcher, and two of my favorite handguns, I disappear into the darkness. Dressed in full combat gear, I’m ready for any kind of action.
I’m sure Kelly is prepared for a full-scale attack, and he won’t expect just one man. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.
With the sniper gun and rocket launcher’s straps flung over my shoulders, I enter the docks from a side gate that looks like it hasn’t been used in ages. The lock is rusted and easy to break.
Lightfooted and keeping my head low, I make my way between the warehouses. Using a fire escape, I scale to the roof, where I’ll have a better view of the area.
Once I’m on the roof, I move cautiously, my Heckler & Koch drawn and ready.
I find a spot where I can see the street below and settle in for the long wait.
Sure, I can storm the warehouse like the insane man I am, but I have Everleigh and Vincent to consider. There’s no flying off the handle and taking unnecessary risks anymore.
So I’ll wait for Kelly to either come or go.
Making sure the sniper rifle and rocket launcher are ready, I lie down on my stomach and watch as Kelly’s guards smoke one cigarette after the other. The fuckers are blissfully unaware that I’m here.
I watch them through the rifle’s scope, thinking how easy it would be to pick them off one by one.
Time crawls by, and sweat beads on the back of my neck. It’s much warmer in the US than in Russia. It’s been months, and I’m still not used to the heat.
In the early morning hours, there’s finally movement. Through the scope, I watch a convoy of SUVs drive toward the warehouse.
Finally.
I swap the rifle for the rocket launcher, and lining it up with the target, I launch the missile. It whistles through the air before slamming into the second SUV. The explosion is bright and loud, and within seconds guards are scurrying around like a disrupted nest of ants. I launch another missile, hitting the last SUV in the convoy and effectively barricading the other vehicles.
I grab the rifle, and using the scope, I scan every man until I spot Kelly, where he’s being ushered out of an SUV.
With a sadistic smile on my face, I start to pick off all the guards around Kelly. Like a cat playing with a mouse, I watch him run from cover to cover, fear etched deep into his features.
“This is what you get for trying to take out my boss, motherfucker,” I whisper as I watch him make a run for the warehouse.
I fire a shot, hitting him in the left leg, and he plows into the ground. A guard tries to come to his rescue, but a single shot eliminates the fucker.
I’d love to take more time killing Kelly, but the authorities can show up at any moment. Pulling the trigger, I bury a bullet into Kelly’s skull, blowing half his head away.
I grab my phone, and zooming in on Kelly’s body, I take a photo and send it to St. Monarch’s.
