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“I'm coming with you,” I state, my voice firm and resolute.
Ruslan hesitates, his eyes flickering over my face. “I can’t let you do that. I’ve put you through enough already. You don’t deserve to suffer more than you already have by my hands.”
“I can take care of myself,” I reply, attempting to put on a front of confidence even though my heart is pounding rapidly in my chest.
Ruslan’s eyes betray the war happening inside himself. He might not want to bring me onto a battlefield, but he himself admitted that leaving me alone in his house could make me a target.
“Fine,” he finally relents. “But you have to do exactly what I say, understand? Even if you don’t know why I’m telling you to do something, you need to trust me fully. No hesitation whatsoever.”
I nod, grateful that I’ll have the chance to see this to its bitter end. I know it’s risky, but I can't bear the thought of sitting at home while Ruslan leaves to fight a war that he might never return from.
We leave and meet up with Yan, who appears surprised to see me.
“Didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of seeing your face again,” he says to me, scanning me from top to bottom with suspicion and curiosity.
I offer him a smile, but it’s met with a frown. I guess I’ll have to prove myself all over again, but today that’s not my concern. We’re here on a mission.
When we enter the fairgrounds, the atmosphere is reminiscent of an apocalyptic, forgotten carnival. Today is the last day of the fair since it reopened, and every square foot of the walkway is littered with trash and debris.
As we fight through the crowds, I can't help but allow unease and worry to hijack my better judgment. I know that this could be a crucial moment, but I can't shake the feeling that something terrible and irreversible is going to happen.
I wish there was another way for Ruslan to exact his revenge, playing the long game instead of a brutal battle royale.
Ruslan appears to feel the same way. His shoulders are tense, and I can tell that he’s mentally preparing himself for a fight. A flash of fear stops me in my tracks for a moment, but I do the best I can to push it aside. We’re in this together, and I have to be strong for both of us.
I chose to be here. Ifoughthim to let me be here.
“There, right there. That’s your man, Ruslan.”
When Yan points out Theo in the distance, I feel a surge of anger and determination. This was the man who had caused Ruslan so much insurmountable pain, and I want nothing more than to see him brought to justice.
His appearance is nothing like I had imagined he’d look. Both Yan and Ruslan are large, imposing men with wide, muscled chests and stony expressions. Because of my limited exposure, I had created a false impression in my head of all bratva men.
Theo is much smaller than Ruslan, and his skinny frame isn’t concealed by the massive sweatshirt that hangs off his shoulders. His skin is dull and yellow, his face gaunt. In all honesty, he reminds me more of someone who would rob a pharmacy for drugs than a hitman.
As soon as Ruslan sees him, all hell breaks loose.
Ruslan charges forward, leaving me behind with Yan. Panic sets in as I watch him disappear into the crowd, knowing that he could be making a huge mistake by acting in a blind rage.
My heart is racing, and my mind is filled with uncertainty. What if something happens to him? What if we don't make it out of here alive?
What if this is the first night all over again?
It feels just like the moment that I was abandoned by my friends on the night of the shooting. My heart jumps into my throat, and my knees buckle as I begin to drown in terror.
If I lose him, there will not be another Ruslan to save me.
I want to follow him, to help him in any way I can, but I know I have to stay put. Ruslan is the only one who can bring justice to Misha’s death, and I have to trust that he knows what he's doing.
But that trust is tested as my breathing quickens and my skin breaks out into a prickle of sweat.
The fairgrounds are packed, and the atmosphere is already so tense and unnerving as the people in the crowds push past us aggressively. It feels like we're walking into a warzone, where anyone could pull the trigger and recreate the pandemonium from the first shooting.
My anxiety builds as we approach Theo's booth, and I can see Ruslan's rage boiling over. He's acting irrationally, forgetting about the bigger picture of taking down Derick, and I can't help but feel a sense of panic as I watch him.
But even as fear grips me, I know that I won't let Ruslan face this alone. Whatever happens next, we're in this together, even if it kills us both.
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