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I was back in the guard’s arms, being yanked backward, the same knife cutting into my skin. Viktor was screaming, his eyes streaming tears, his face mottled with angry red burns. He held two guns now, one in each hand, one pointed at me, the other at Justin.
Justin’s stance caught my attention. His shoulders were hunched, his hip cocked at an unusual angle. Then I noticed the trail of blood down his side.
He’d been shot.
“Justin!” I screamed, barely feeling the puncture of the blade against my skin.
The rug beneath our feet caught fire and the flames began to spread quickly. The heat was searing as thick black smoke began to swirl around us.
“You fool.” Viktor’s chest heaved with rage.
Keeping his arms up, guns pointed at us, he stepped backward to a narrow door between two bookcases.
“You might not know me,” he sneered at Justin, “but I know you, Justin Montgomery. Every deep, dark corner of your life. Every single regret.”
He opened the door.
A dim orange overhead light spotlighted a man wearing tattered clothing. He sat slumped in a chair, a rope tied around his torso and his ankles. Lines of scars marred his exposed skin, neck, arms, and shins.
I squinted, taking in the prisoner. He was a tall, skinny version of Justin.
Oh my God.
Justin’s face had paled as if he’d seen a ghost. In a way, I guess he had. The man tied to the chair was Nate, Justin’s brother, who was supposed to be dead.
As he reveled in Justin’s shock, a wicked grin crossed Viktor’s face. “Your brother has been my captive for four years. We kept him as leverage, in case the US government found us.”
Black smoke engulfed us. I began coughing, choking. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Even then, the guard didn’t release me.
The fire had reached the bookcases, blinding-white flames flicking all the way up to the ceiling. Viktor opened the sliding glass doors to the patio, where several propane tanks sat next to a grill. Feeding off the fresh oxygen, the flames ballooned as if inhaling lighter fluid.
“Looks like we’ve got about five seconds before we’re all blown to bits.” Viktor’s eyes were wild. “Who will you save, Justin? The brother you thought was dead? Or the whore you’ve let con you?”
With that, Viktor spun on his heel, cackling a mad maniacal laugh that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Who will you choose?
Five.
Trust me,Justin’s words filtered through my head.
Four.
Trust me.
Three.
From inside the tiny room, Nate lifted his head, his eyes locking on Justin—his brother. His fingers fluttered.
Two.
Outside, the flames engulfed the tanks.
With a guttural scream, Justin bent over and pulled a KA-BAR knife from each of his boots. He hurled one into the air, then turned and lunged through the smoke.
The guard released me, but it was too late. Justin leaped onto him like a wild animal, plunging the knife into his neck. The man was dead before he even hit the floor.
I was swept off my feet and cocooned against Justin’s chest.
