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“Sick.” His wife scoffs, her tone filled with disgust, though her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Next you’ll say you’re in love with him. Or worse. You’ll tell us murdering people is above you, when it’s yourjob,Tomas.”
Konstantin laughs, and Alex must feel the tension in my body, the stiffening of my shoulders because he chooses now to come to my defense. “Surely Tomas has a reason behind his madness.”
I inhale an intentionally slow breath, then exhale. I’m going to have to play this the right way, or I’ll be me with a blood bath. “The reason is I just didn’t feel like it. Maybe I’m bored, Konstantin. Maybe I’m growing soft. It could be either choice.”
I slide my hand into the pocket of my dress pants and pull out a tactical knife. My gaze falls on the black-painted blade, and I press the tip into my thumb. A drop of blood spills out. I bring it to my lips and my tongue drags along it, lapping up the droplet. “Which do you suppose is worse?”
I make eye contact with the wife across the table, her eyes are fixated on the blade. “Mrs. Petrova?”
Her chest rises and falls and her dilated pupils remain transfixed on the knife. “Boredom,” she says breathlessly.
I turn to Konstantin. “She’s a smart woman.”
Alex pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated with my nonsense. The truth is, I’m just fucking pretending, making it up as I go. Whatever I’m doing is working, because I’ve rendered the Mrs. speechless, and Konstantin stares at me with curiosity.
“Boredom wreaks havoc,” I say, turning back to his wife. “Or maybe, I just thought he was pretty. They both have the same outcome.”
“How so?” Her eyes narrow in on me.
“Well, a bored murderer will hunt to kill anyone, anything, not giving a fuck about the consequences. But if I just found the boy and wanted to keep him for myself, and harm comes to him, then I would just kill in response.”
Alex lets out a fake huff of laughter. “Stop joking, Tomas,” he says nervously. “Surely, he is joking, Pakahn.”
“Surely he is not,” Mrs. Petrova says. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you threatening to have me killed if Konstantin doesn’t forgive you for sparing the witness?”
I smirk, then aim the knife. When I throw it, it lands directly where I aimed—into the back of her chair—but not before tearing the material of her dress by her shoulder. “It’s not a threat, Mrs. Petrova. I will do it, and I will succeed.”
Konstantin’s fist slams into the table. “You will not scare my wife inmyhome.”
I can't help the smug grin that spreads on my face as my gaze travels to the woman in question. “Why, Pakahn? It’s clear she likes it.”
Mrs. Petrova glares at me, her cheeks turning a deep ruby color. Her panting breath is shallow. Once she composes herself, she scowls at me, clearly upset that I’ve called her out.
I slam down the rest of the wine before pushing out my chair. Then I stand and fasten the top button on my jacket. “This evening was useless. Well for me, at least.” I turn to Alex. “I can see myself out.”
“I’ll wal you.” Alex scrambles to his feet and follows me out of the dining room. “Stupid,” he scolds when we’re close to the front door. “You’re lucky he let you walk out of there. You were so disrespectful. And to call his wife out like that.”
I shrug, grab the gun I’d left in the safe by the door, and give my old friend a wink. “He’ll thank me for it when she’s on her knees sucking him off.”
His mouth drops in awe. “Who are you?” his fingers snap in front of my face. “What have you done to my Tomas?”
“There’s time for him to retaliate,” I say, pressing my hand to the doorknob. “He could have me shot down the second I open this door. Or he could wait months from now. You’ll keep me posted on his decision?”
He nods.
“And you give your word that even if I’m to die, my boy and his daughter are protected?”
“Olga will care for them, Tomas. You know that.”
I exhale a timid breath, offer my thanks, then open the door. When I reach my car, I pull my phone from the center console and check the messages left to me from Noel.
Noel: Good luck. Please tell me when it’s over.
Noel: Oh God, you’re taking forever. What’s wrong?
Noel: Are you dead?
Noel: Fuck, does that mean we’re dead?
