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Clattering from the kitchen catches my attention, and as my eyes survey the smoke-filmed walls, the peeling wallpaper, the burn marks on the rug, and the piss stains in the corner from when I would be punished and ordered to stand there for days—yes, fucking days—my rage festers and grows until I can’t contain it any longer.
“What, your uncles didn’t want a turn first?” he cackles as his head turns to watch me stroll into the room that’s never been used for anything more than storage for their alcohol.
“They’re dead.” For once, my voice is free of the tremble of fear it once held for this man. I stand before him, unfeeling, cold, and anticipating the fight I know he can’t resist giving me.
His glacial laughter is unsurprising as I lean casually against the door frame. “When did you get a spine? Thinking you’re bigger than me.” As he turns, his gaze rakes over me from top to bottom, and if the stark fear that fills his heartless eyes is any indication, he’s finally seeing me for the man I’ve become since leaving his…care.
“Bigger,” I say. “No. Smarter, faster, audacious, yes.” I allow him to absorb what’s about to go down. “I am no longer the little street rat who used to exist under this roof. You are nothing to me now. I don’t fear you. I don’t think of you. When you’re dead, I will no longer be chained by the life I once served you in.”
With one nimble flick of my wrist, my straight blade embeds in his throat, severing his spinal cord. His body drops to the ground with a crash as he takes a chair with him. He gurgles, choking on his own blood as the crimson fluid pumps out of him with every beat of his heart.
Gripping another chair, I place it over his chest and sit down, staring at the face of the monster who attempted to ruin me. Who, for a long time, had destroyed my life.
“Being helpless isn’t so nice, is it.” I don’t laugh or smile; there is nothing fun about death. Nothing enjoyable about facing my demons. They spent years haunting me…consuming me. “Because of you, I will never have the woman I need in my life. She knows, without much telling, that I am too…sullied for her perfection.” And thatwillhaunt me for the rest of my life. “It is because of her that I’m here, though. That you have all died on this night. There is nothing left of your lineage. Nothing left of the Kovak name because I am Renznikov now.”
His eyes flare. The stench of death wafts up, and I grow bored.
“Goodbye, Father.” Gripping the handle of the knife, I yank it out and watch as the blood erupts like a volcano, his last breath rattles in his lungs, and the light of life leaves his hollow eyes.
Standing, I stare around the room, wander around the house that held my secrets for so many years, and decide I will not burn it to the ground. I will leave the structure standing so that all those who protected these sick bastards will know that Dez Renznikov came back and killed the ones who tried to stifle his potential.
The building will remain as a warning that this neighborhood is off-limits. The innocents on these streets are no longer up for grabs. They are not to be touched, or I will be back, and I will bring fury and vengeance with me. I will paint the streets in blood.
EIGHT
LILIYA
When Dez didn’t return last night, my regret over him became a blinding pain in my gut. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I was barely able to get dressed this morning after sitting in an ice-cold shower for I don’t know how long.
Now, I can’t stop shivering despite wearing two bulky sweaters, thick pants, thicker socks, and boots. The frigid water had pelted my skin like tiny little icicles, and I deserved every ounce of pain for being so cruel to Dez after he rescued me from my father’s clutches.
“Looking cozy, Liliya.”Petr.Sitting beside me in our science class, my body moves away from him without thought. Even freezing, I’m beginning to sense something is up with the boy I once thought of as a friend. “You have a stalker; you know that, right?” He leans closer so our faces are nearly touching.
As I turn my head in surprise, gasping, “What?” our mouths graze accidentally, and my entire body revolts so strongly that I fall out of my seat.
A sneer fleetingly crosses his face, and I almost miss it, questioning whether I saw it or not as I try to slip back into my chair without drawing more attention. When he points behind us to the back door of the classroom, my eyes meet the icy blue of Dez’s. His face is a mask of rage as he stares at Petr.
The teacher continues her lesson, the students turn forward, but I watch Dez, recognizing what they don’t—the brutality in his gaze as his eyes flick from Petr to me. The door slowly opens. Nobody notices his entrance, not at first. Not until his hand is around the back of Petr’s neck, and he’s tossing him from his seat to clatter on top of another desk before sailing to the cold linoleum floor in a mess of tangled limbs.
“Excuse me!” Mrs. Yugur shouts, hands on her rounded hips, face scrunched up in outrage until she locks eyes on Dez, now sitting beside me.
“Continue,” he tells her as Petr not-so-gracefully climbs to his feet, the sneer now wiped from his face as he gets a good look at Dez. The deadliness in his eyes, the creepy tattoos climbing his neck, the glint of the blade curved in the palm of his hand.
Everyone is in a state of shock as we wait on Mrs. Yugur’s direction. Once Petr is seated somewhere else, she finally clears her throat and speaks, “Very well, then.” My ears ring through the rest of the lesson, and I can’t focus on anything but the fact that Dez is here, sitting next to me.
I feel his unwavering gaze penetrating the side of my skull and getting inside my mind. I know he wants to say something, but for whatever reason, he’s holding off. When the bell rings, I release the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been trying to hold.
Dez gathers up my books before I can and carries my bag out of the room for me. “Miss Vovk, a word,” Mrs. Yugur calls from the front of the class before I can make my hasty escape.
My throat closes as I step forward, not expecting Dez to come with me. “Alone.” She looks pointedly at him. He doesn’t budge.
“I’m not leaving. Say it, or we leave.” There is no room for argument with that. Chancing a glance at him, I see his eyes on me. Is he reading me? Assessing my body language? This day is so odd.
“Fine. Miss Vovk, the interruptions today have been intrusive and disruptive not just to me but also to the students. I’m afraid we won’t tolerate this type of behavior. You have one last chance to get yourself together before I ring your father.” Her look speaks volumes. She knows who he is, what he’s capable of, and how he treats me.
“Sorry,” I squeak out. “It won’t happen again.” I turn to take my leave, but Dez gets in my way. One arm wraps my back, and the other holds my neck under my cascading hair.
“Did you just threaten her?” I flinch at his tone. The older woman stutters as she backpedals. “You don’t threaten her,” he snaps, interrupting her blubbering.
