Alison’s blonde-haired friend came lurching out of the bushes in front of the house, tears flooding down her cheeks, and plunged a knife into Grushin’s side. He tottered sideways, letting go of Alison...and that’s all I needed.
I launched myself at him and tackled him to the ground, then started punching him. The fury I’d honed for so many years roared to life.For Alison! And Yakov! And Bronwyn!My fists smashed into his face, left then right then left, the rage whirling faster and faster.The casino! Our money! All the Bratva he’d killed and terrorized back home! All the people he’d killed, to take their organs!
This endednow. I was going to destroy him completely, so he could never hurt anyone again.
I glanced up and saw Mikhail running towards me.Mikhail!Grushin killed his friend and the woman he loved. My fists swung again and again, blood flying.
“Stop!” yelled the male FBI agent. But I didn’t.
Valentin reached me and put a hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me away, but I shook him off. Then Mikhail was on my other shoulder, but I twisted away from him, too.He deserves it. He deserves to die.I pounded Grushin’s face, on and on?—
And then I glanced up and saw Alison. She was lying on her back on the front lawn, with the older, female FBI agent crouching next to her. She needed me. And she needed Grushin alive to clear her name.
A week ago, I wouldn’t have been able to pull myself back. But now...
My fists rose, trembling, dripping blood...and paused. I knelt there sucking down the cold night air, clawing at the anger inside me, willing it to slow and slow...and stop.
Immediately, the guilt rushed in, eating away at my vulnerable, unprotected core. It hurt so much I hunched over, fists clenching tight. I knew I couldn’t take it forever.
But for her...I could take it for a while. Until—I looked across at Valentin—until I could do what needed to be done.
I stood and ran over to Alison, then knelt down beside her and wiped my hands on the grass.Blyat’,she looked so fragile! I just wanted to pull her into my arms, but I didn’t dare risk moving her. “Will she be okay?” I asked, brushing my fingers across her cheek.
“She’s lost a lot of blood,” said the older, female FBI agent, her voice tight with worry. “The paramedics are on their way.”
Alison murmured something I couldn’t hear. I leaned closer, my heart pounding. “What did you say?”
She was mumbling, spacey from the blood loss. “Did I catch the bad guy?”
I glanced around at Grushin, bloody and battered, but alive. And then I looked down at myself. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Yes,” I managed around the lump in my throat. “You did.”
EPILOGUE
Alison
After that, things went hazy for a while.
I remember being loaded into an ambulance as the street filled up with police cars. Gennadiy was trying to climb in beside me, a cop was trying to handcuff him, and Calahan was arguing with both of them. Then everything went black.
When I came to, it was daylight, and I was in a hospital bed in a quiet room. One leg was in plaster, I was hooked up to an IV, and I could feel a dressing on my back. I tried to move, winced and groaned, then tried again.
“For once in your life, would you juststop?” pleaded a familiar voice.
I twisted around to look. Calahan, looking even more disheveled than usual, was sprawled in a chair next to my bed. “Gennadiy?” I asked immediately.
His mouth tightened. I think maybe he was still hoping that he could talk some sense into me. But then he looked into my eyes, and whatever he saw there made him sigh in resignation and then soften. “Gennadiy’s fine. I mean, he’s at the center of a major policeinvestigation into all the bodies that you two left at that ambulance company, and at Viktor Grushin’s house, but–”
The door opened, and Gennadiy marched in.
“…he does have averygood defense attorney,” grumbled Calahan.
Gennadiy swept his hands under my shoulders and lifted me to him, pressing me to his chest and resting my head against his shoulder. He only loosened his grip when the machines beside my bed started to beep accusingly. Then he gently laid me back down and gave me a look of such fierce, possessive love that I melted.
“Are you going to jail?” I asked, worried.
“Conrad got me out on bail,” Gennadiy told me. “As for jail…” He looked at Calahan and rubbed his stubble. “The situation is…fluid.”
Calahan sighed. “About a billion people want to take statements from you. You might want to start thinking about what you’re going to say.”
