AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If you say so.” He didn’t look convinced in the slightest but I couldn’t say I blamed him. It was a dog-eat-dog world and loyalty was about as rare as honesty, especially when you lived in the underbelly of society.
Rounding the bed, I cupped his cheek with a soft smile, hoping to reassure him anyway. “You have nothing to fear. I promise.”
If it was possible, he looked even more skeptical. To him, I’m sure they were nothing but empty words. It was up to me to prove they weren’t. In time, I would.
22
MISHA
It had beenyears since I’d donned my old uniform. A drab olive, the trademark of my unit, didn’t look like anything special. It meant nothing in America but putting it on again felt like going home. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I was lacing up my boots and sorting the rest of my gear before I set out to pay Ken a long overdue visit.
I didn’t miss the politics back home. I didn’t miss the backstabbing. And I certainly didn’t miss being strung out to dry the minute it suited someone with an agenda. But I missed the respect of the uniform, the brotherhood, the thrill of the mission and clandestine operations. More importantly, the satisfaction when it was over, knowing I’d done something good for my country even if no one outside of that unit would ever know the truth.Iknew it.
In a way, I still had some of those things working for Sergei but it wasn’t the same. And yet, I wouldn’t trade the freedoms I had working for him for another ten years of service to Mother Russia. Not while I was still trying to pull the figurative knife out of my fucking back, looking over both shoulders for a fellow operative—and now Dimitri’s men lurking on every corner. He was another problem I hoped to eventually sort out but I had other issues at the moment.
Parking several blocks away from Ken’s house, I grabbed Nadia’s leash and got out of the Range Rover. Even if Marek woke up in the middle of the night, he’d realize she and I were both missing and be smart enough to assume I’d taken her outside. Which, technically, wasn’t a lie.
I popped the collar on my peacoat and tucked my chin against the frosty bite of December air, our breath clouding in front of us in the dark. It smelled like snow was coming.
Traversing the rest of the distance on foot, Nadia trotted happily at my side, sniffing every bush and mailbox we passed. It was late, or early, depending on your point of view, and the streets were mostly empty, so I didn’t need to hurry her along to our destination.
When we finally arrived, I ducked into the side yard of the Fosters’ house and slipped around the back, hooking Nadia’s leash to one of the drainpipes. Swapping my knit hat for a balaclava and shedding my peacoat, I gave Nadia a quick scratch on her head and a Kong stuffed with peanut butter to keep her occupied.
With a cautious glance up and down the street, I hauled myself up onto the nearest window ledge and started the climb up the back of the house, scaling up the drainpipe and using the decorative ledges in the brickwork to move from floor to floor.
On the third floor, I slid one of the large windows open and ducked inside, closing it after me. It might have been easier to pick a lock on the first floor and bypass the alarm system but I liked the challenge. Plus, when the homeowners inevitably ran to the alarm panel to push the panic button, they’d see the system was still active and thus useless in deterring anyone determined enough. That was my parting gift to them—the knowledge that they weren’t truly safe inside their own home.
Pulling out my phone, I checked the tracker I put on Ken’s car last week, pleased to see the timeline was moving right along. He’d just left his usual Thursday-night stop at a strip club which gave me a decent amount of time to get acquainted with his wife.
* * *
Down below onthe first floor, a door opened and closed. Keys dropped. Heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs to the second level, where I’d located a sleeping Mrs. Foster. As the steps got closer, Robin’s whimpering grew louder, hopeful.
“Shh,” I reminded her, holding the knife blade to my lips instead of my finger. “We don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Ken banged through the bedroom door like a bull in a china shop. There was no regard for the fact it was after four in the morning and his wife should have been sleeping. Although I had a sneaking suspicion that it was part and parcel of the routine for her. Poor woman.
He stumbled through the room to the bathroom, belching and groaning. The groaning turned to sighs the second his zipper came down and the sound of urine splashed into the toilet, echoing into the room.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes skyward. Guess it was better he got that out of the way instead of pissing himself. But my level of disgust only rose the longer I was in his proximity. The fact he’d had his claws in Marek unsettled me more than it had any right to. It was an irrational jealousy I’d ignored ever since the first time I saw them together in Dalton’s but it had been there all the same, simmering beneath the surface. The second time, at Delirium, it nearly overcame me and I pictured smashing his head against the sink until it split open like a melon. When Marek told me what happened, I wished I’d had.
Faced with the monster in the flesh for the third time, jealousy reared its head again, more powerful than it had ever been. Even though every beat of my heart said to get up at that very moment and tear him to pieces, my brain reminded my body to wait. At the end of the day, brute strength wouldn’t solve this issue. Precision was key. Patience and precision, no matter how agonizing it was to wait.
Ken finally finished in the bathroom and staggered toward the bed. He didn’t turn the light on before slipping under the cover, his hands reaching for the warm body he was guaranteed to find.
Robin whined and strained against me, reaching her bound hands for her worthless husband.
“What? What is it?” Ken snapped, leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp with a huff. When his head swiveled in my direction, I smiled beneath the mask at the stupid look of surprised horror on his face.
Robin and I were both reclined in bed next to him, resting comfortably against the headboard. She was bound and gagged, probably still crying. One of my arms wrapped around her neck, holding a knife at her throat. My other hand also held a knife, should the need arise.
Ken’s glassy eyes narrowed before he lunged to the side, diving for the top drawer of his nightstand. He withdrew a revolver and aimed it at me, once again with zero regard for his wife or her safety. “You picked the wrong house, asshole.”
“Put the gun down, Ken. I need your undivided attention for this.”
Instead of obeying, he pulled the trigger.
Robin jerked and screamed against her gag, her sobbing renewed.
