Maybe he didn’t realize that he was dragging me into this mess. He might’ve been holding on to me just because I was there.
But after he ushered me outside and into a car waiting on the drive, he took my hand again. In his strong grip, I felt his fear. I sensed his need to anchor and ground himself.
We sped off in a flurry of sharp turns. It was too much, too soon, so much action, not unlike the commotion I was familiar with in the emergency room.
All I could register was that I was wanted, lured into this and going along for the ride.
To where, I had no clue.
To what, I feared the worst.
As I glanced at Mikhail seated next to me, tense and listening to all the driver and other soldier said, like they were all engaged in a top-secret military operation, I swallowed hard and knew I’d taken another step too far.
I was involved. Again.
Seeing Mikhail like this, primed up to kill, was terrifying. Perched on the edge of his seat, he was cold. Calculating. Merciless. Stony-faced and with his jaw set, he looked like a warrior, a demon, ready to unleash hell to save his daughter.
Yet, he didn’t let go of my hand… making me wonder if he couldn’t because he was so desperate for a link to something good amid the darkness.
17
MIKHAIL
The car stopped at the curb. A tall warehouse in the Popov district loomed in sight. Windows were shuttered, broken, or missing. Graffiti and bullet holes littered the walls. It fit the scene. Evidence of past crimes matched the mood.
Because I was ready to kill them all.
It was then, as I reached for my gun, ready to get out and join the Orlov forces to rescue my daughter, that I realized Claire was here. She was with me, not removed from this grisly premonition of the bloodshed I’d cause. She wasn’t at my home, waiting from a distance. Preserving her innocence was becoming a trick of the mind.
She didn’t belong here, in this car before death would unfold. Blood would be on my hands, but never hers. Not like this.
Shedidbelong with me, though. Feeling her sturdy grip on my fingers grounded me. Just knowing I wasn’t alone in worrying about Anya mattered.
I’d needed her hug. I wished I could go back to basking in the simple comfort of her holding me and caressing the back of my neck.
Like she could fix me if I compromised to bend to her softness.
But this was no place for her. I hadn’t consciously planned to bring her along on this mission, but it seemed natural to keep her at my side.
“Guard her,” I ordered the men up front.
The driver nodded. The other soldier did as well.
Facing Claire, I shook my head. “Don’t leave this car.”
“I won’t.” She shook her head, giving away how nervous she was with the pinch in her brow, right above her nose.
“Just…” I exhaled a hard breath, feeling torn in two. I was impatient to run out there and save my daughter. But I felt the need to make sure Claire would be all right too. Both of them were leaning on me for protection. Both of them were my responsibility, all because they dared to be associated with me, with my power and wrath.
“Go.” She let go of my hand. “Be safe and just…” She grimaced, as if realizing she was giving me a pep talk to kill people. “Go keep her safe.” That summary worked.
I nodded once and turned to burst out of the car. Breaking into a quick stride, I hurried to jog toward the Orlov men at the ready. Andre was there, at the door I’d been directed to go to. Similar to the block I owned, where I had my building and my son and nephews had theirs, these rundown pieces-of-shit structures were compactly squeezed together. They lacked the underground tunnel of connector corridors I'd built, though, sowe were forced to enter through one entrance to sneak through to where my former lieutenant had tied up my daughter.
“He’s already dead,” my son announced dryly as I joined them. A guard strapped me in, securing me with a bullet-proof vest of armor.
“Of course he will be,” I replied.
“No. Levisdead,” Roman said. “I shot him when he led us to the location. Sorry.” He shrugged. “Not sorry.”
