Maya sits back in her chair, observing me thoughtfully. “And here I thought you’d had enough of the cushy life.”
I smile. “Not nearly.”
“And in this fantasy, where would you go?”
“I don’t know. Canada, maybe? Where I could paint and he could hunt and fish. Where we could…” The words catch like broken glass in my throat.
“Yeah? Go on.”
I bite my lip, but press on, because if I’m about to die, I want these to be my last thoughts, my last dreams, manifesting as I speak them. “Where we could settle down and start a family, and leave all of this behind us.”
Maya’s expression is unreadable.
“You’re disappointed,” I say, shamed though I know I shouldn’t be. “I know, I’m not the ballsy, bad-ass, cold bitch killer I should be, right? I’m soft. I know I am. But I’ve tasted that life enough to know it’s what I want.”
“And Nik?”
I blink, surprised when tears run from my eyes. “Nik?”
“Do you know that he’s what you want?” There’s a distinct tenor of skepticism in her voice.
I consider it—really consider it. Him. His past. Whether he’s truly capable of severing his ties to his father and uncle, whether he could survive in a world where he didn’t earn his living by taking lives. He’s only really just started to open up to me. But that’s not surprising, is it? Given everything? The fact that he’s been able to at all really says everything.
“Yes,” I say confidently. “I know he’s what I want.”
“You really think he could do it? Turn his back on all of this? Live the American dream? Play house?”
“We wouldn’t be playing.” I smile, because there’s a hint of jealousy in Maya’s voice, and it feels almost like we’re kids again, arguing on the shores of the lake while our mothers call down to us to be nice. “And I do. I know he could do it.”
“You have more faith in him than I do.”Maya’s smile is bitter. “Because when push comes to shove, Zane, I don’t think he could pick this side. He’s a soldier. A cold-blooded killer.”
“That’s not all he is,” I say, and the earnestness in my own voice surprises me. “And I had faith in you too. We owe him this.”
“He’s not a hero.”
“None of us are.” I take a deep breath, letting go of all the doubts I’ve had about Nik and Maya until this point. “But he is a good guy.”
Maya smiles. “It’s nice to have you on our side, you know. However briefly.”
I smile back. Before I can reply, the door swings open.
19
Nik
Artur is waiting when we arrive. My head is pounding. I can’t even process what my father has just told me.
Before we reach my uncle and his men, gathered around the storage warehouse in the rain, my father faces me.
“Lebedev dies today,” he says.
I nod once, not trusting myself to speak.
“This is a job, Nikolai. Nothing more.”
So all of this was for nothing?My hands clench into fists so tight my nails bite into my palms.Torturing Zane’s father, marrying us, killing him…I try to swallow the rage roiling inside me, but it’s overwhelming, acidic and unstoppable. Killing Lebedev—was it ever about the resources? The power? The connections?
Or has this all been petty revenge? Did Zane’s father really die forrevenge?
