I wasn’t an expert at interrogations. That wasn’t my strength. But I’d seen enough. It was too soon to determine whether seeing Jack like this would really give me any sense of closure, but I knew my limit. I pushed myself as far as I could.
Meeting Mikhail’s gaze, I nodded once.
He dipped his chin at me in acknowledgment, reaching out for my hand and squeezing it once.
“I’ll see you upstairs,” I whispered to him, leaving him to do his work and to make good on his promise to always keep me safe.
A guard escorted me out of the room, but I declined his company in the elevator on the way back up. I approached the closed panels of doors, waiting for them to slide open. My heart raced a bit at the adrenaline rush of seeing my enemy, but when the first gunshot went off behind me in that room, I barely flinched.
Closing my eyes and steadying my breath, I waited for the distance that would keep me sane.
Nothing is ever as black and white as it seems.
I knew that now. I could count on that truth.
As the elevator arrived and the doors slid apart, I exhaled one last deep breath and opened my eyes.
I wouldn’t spend too much energy dwelling on what was happening down here. In the elevator and rising up, I lifted my face and calmed myself with the reminder that I’d told the truth.
My life really did seem to be starting now, and it was all because of that strong-willed killer I’d left in the basement.
39
MIKHAIL
Killing Dr. Jack Harroun should’ve made me feel better. The victory of ending the life of someone who’d endangered Claire was something that should have tided me over from this strange restlessness that took over me.
After Claire walked out of the holding room where Andre had brought the corrupt liar of a doctor, I shot the stupid asshole myself. I had no patience for suffering fools. I’d lost too much time in hearing the vile bullshit spewing out of his mouth as it was.
Once the deed was done, though, I wasn’t feeling any better. I wasn’t victorious like usual.
With Claire heading back upstairs, I doubted and second-guessed myself.
Will she ever really accept me?
Andre gestured for a couple of men to drag Jack’s body away. He and Sergei had led the team that finally caught Claire’s formercoworker. The man had been hiding among the Popovs, but he couldn’t evade us any longer.
My son stepped around the blood and tilted his head at me.
“Why’d you bring her down here?” he asked. When he’d informed me that Jack was captured, I told him to wait for me to come to the room to handle him myself.
I shrugged, turning to leave the room. I wasn’t giving him my back, and he knew it. He fell into step with me, his work done in here for now.
“I thought it would show her another side of me,” I admitted.
“And which side was that?” he asked, walking down the hallway until we reached the elevator. “The side of you that won’t allow anyone to get away with messing with us?”
“The executioner,” I answered.
He huffed a wry laugh, perhaps amused that I was getting so philosophical about what we did day in and out now. “Growing a conscience now?” he teased.
I frowned at him.
“Come on. What can you be worried about? She’s seen you kill others before.”
She had. I was very aware of each time Claire had witnessed me killing someone. That man who’d almost shot her in the parking garage before I first brought her here. Then the men who’d captured her. Now Jack. Her view of me in terms of life or death would always be the biggest pinpoint of contrast. She saved lives while I took them.
“But his death would’ve been different.”
