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“You looked like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I’m scanning the crowd now, still looking for that same gray-haired ghost. Every face I see is a potential threat. “Real people are scarier than ghosts,” I mutter.
“Timofey!” She says it loud enough that the people around us turn and look. Even more eyes are on us now. “Tell me right now: are we in danger? Do I need to be worried about—”
The rest of what she says is lost when a man passes closely by Piper’s shoulder. He’s wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. It’s the man from the plane. But this time, I have a much closer look.
I can see the streak of white hair over his forehead. There’s a freckle on his jawline, hidden beneath a couple days of growth.
In one instant, I shove Piper aside and thrust my arm into the crowd. She yelps in surprise and people jostle and grumble. But I don’t pay attention to any of that. I snatch the man up by his arm and spin him around to face me.
He doesn’t even look surprised.
“Kreshnik,” I growl.
The older man looks remarkably relaxed, given his position. He smirks up at me. “Always a pleasure, Timofey.”
“Where is he?”
His eyebrows lift. “Who?”
“You know who!” I tower over him, completely ignoring the shocked cries of the people around me.
Somewhere, a woman calls for security.
“Timofey.” Piper tugs at my elbow. “Timofey, you can’t. Not here. We have to go.”
Kreshnik looks at Piper. His eyes sharpen. He looks like a predator watching dinner scurry by. “Good to see you again so soon, Piper. Even if you weren’t quite honest with me the last time we met. It looks like Timofey wasn’t in Mexico City, after all.”
I trust Piper, but it’s still nice to hear her story confirmed. She tried to lead Kreshnik away. She tried to protect me.
But now, it’s my turn to protect her.
I lift Kreshnik by his shirt collar until his toes are barely touching the floor. “Don’t talk to her and don’t fucking look at her. I’ll rip your goddamn eyes out.”
“Security!” A woman yells again. More voices join in with nervous agreement.
“Are you worried I’m going to hurt her?” Kreshnik asks. “You don’t have to worry, Timofey. If I wanted to kill her, I could have.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.” I’m losing hold of my rage. If I’m not careful, I’ll break his neck right here in this airport. I’ll do it in front of a sea of witnesses and gladly spend the rest of my life in prison just for the pleasure.
“But like I told your little girlfriend,” he continues, “I prefer an eye for an eye. Or, in this case, a son for a son.”
Blood is pounding in my ears. I can’t hear anything else. Can barely see. My vision is down to a pinprick, Kreshnik’s smug face at the very center.
Piper lays a hand on my bicep. “Timofey. Security is coming. We have to go. We can’t be here.”
She can’t be here. Not for this. Not for what I’m going to do to Kreshnik.
But I can’t let go. My hand tugs on his shirt until I’m sure it will strangle him.
“That’s right.” Kreshnik nods and gives me a sick little smile. “You’re angry, Timofey. You’re angry like I was. Devastated, like I was. Welcome to the hell you sent me to. You stole my son from me. Now, yours has gone to join him.”
The world is red.
Grief and adrenaline swell through me. I lift Kreshnik off his feet.
I’m going to slam him onto the ground and drive my knee into his throat. I’m going to watch his eyes pop out of their sockets, and then I’m going to make him choke on them.
