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So she did it, huh? I let out a deep breath, look at Sasha, and after a second of hesitance, reach for her hands hanging between her knees. Her fingers are stiff, but when I tighten my grip they yield to it, curling in. At the same time, I hear a shaky breath and a tremor runs through Sasha’s shoulders.
Damn. It looks like she’s crying, and I have no idea how to help. It’s not the best time for it either because Yuriy’s men will come looking for us any moment now, and no matter how much I want to soothe Sasha, I have to make sure she’s safe first.
“I—I know this is hard for you, and I’m sorry you had to do this, but…Sasha, we have to get out of here.” I rub her hand and glance at the window. Did I see a reflection of car lights just now, or was it just lightning?
Sasha breathes out harshly, trying to pull herself together, and I squeeze her hand tighter before letting go. She’s not one to show her weakness easily, so I decide to give her some space and step to the door, listening to the sounds of the house. There are steps and muffled voices coming from below, but it doesn’t sound dangerous, more like the chattering of worried servants.
I raise my gun and turn to Sasha. She already looks better, standing on her feet and checking her gun with an unreadable expression. I can see pink traces of tears on her cheeks, but it’s clear that she wants to hide them from me, so I decide not to ask anything until we get home.
“Are you ready?”
She raises her head with a distant look in her green eyes and drives the magazine back into its place with a loud click. “Ready.”
I carefully step out of the room, guiding Sasha, but she quickly moves past me and takes over, gesturing for me to follow her instead. Oh, right. She knows the place better, I guess. It's more dangerous to be at the front, though, and I can't help the pinch of worry in my chest as I watch her confidently run down the hallway. But Sasha won’t let me take over, so I swallow my complaints and hurry after her.
I catch up with her by the balustrade overlooking the stairs, and we both hear the commotion and phone conversation coming from the first floor. Apparently, the remaining injured men are waiting for reinforcement to corner us, and it sounds like it wouldn't be a problem for them. Sasha swats me on the shoulder and gestures for me to follow her.
She quietly moves to the other side of the hallway, so that she isn't seen from the first floor, and crawls past the open space to the other side of the building. I follow her, holding my breath and gripping my gun tighter, until we get to the safer zone. There Sasha picks up her pace, still keeping her steps quiet, and I have to admit, her skills are quite impressive. But of course, what else would you expect from a professional spy?
"Here," Sasha whispers and opens one of the doors, glancing around. "I know another way out."
The room turns out to be a bedroom, and while Sasha doesn't even stop on her way to the window, I close the door and linger to take a proper look. "Is this your bedroom?"
"Yeah."
"Nice."
Well, the room is nothing special, actually. Just a simple bedroom with a desk in the corner, a closet, a few empty cupboards, and of course, a bed. There’s nothing left to remind of its previous owner, and I guess that's how Sasha wanted it to be. She didn't want to leave a trace of her presence here—but still, it used to be her room, and I can't help but look around curiously until she clears her throat.
"Are you coming?" Sasha meets my gaze with a quirked eyebrow and nods at the open window.
I frown, walking closer. "Do you have a rope ladder?"
"No."
I stop next to her and look down. The ground is clear and wet from the rain, and I see the reflection of lights from around the corner. Still, there's no kind of a ladder or anything to hold onto, so I look at Sasha with a silent question.
"We have to jump." She shrugs and climbs on the window sill. "It's gonna be alright. I've done it many times."
As soon as she finishes the sentence, Sasha swings herself over the window frame, and I can only startle and rush after her. But she does look fine, landing on her feet and slipping only a little. Sasha quickly looks around, steps away, and gestures for me to follow her. Well, alright. I hope she knows what she's doing.
I jump after her, feeling only a slight burst of pain upon landing, and Sasha eyes me quickly before pointing at the fence around the property. What, are we going to climb over? But it looks like she’s sneaked out of this house plenty of times, so I trust her.
Sasha guides me under the dripping rain and dark clouds to the iron fence and gestures for me to keep an eye on the people walking around the entrance of the house. I can see them as well as the two cars driving through the gates a few seconds later—the reinforcement, I assume.
"Louis, here," I hear Sasha's voice a moment later, and when I turn around, I see her already climbing through a hole in the iron pattern. Thank god!
"Did you know this was here?" I ask, following her. The hole is a little too narrow for my shoulders, but I get through it just fine.
Sasha huffs, watching me with amusement. "I made it. Do you remember where your car is?"
"Yeah, around the corner."
With one last glance at Nikolai’s house, we run away from it, and I feel an overwhelming wave of relief. Thank god it's finally over and Sasha is with me, alive and safe. As soon as we get to the car, she gives it a suspicious glance and looks at me with raised eyebrows, and I purse my lips and open the door.
"What? I had to steal the most inconspicuous car out there or your brothers would find me in no time."
"Steal it?" Sasha frowns, taking the passenger seat next to me, and I pause. Her hair is too obvious, and every Russian knows her face.
