“Yeah, she did a backflip, didn’t she?” I say, tightening my arm around him.God, he feels so small, so fragile. The urge to protect him, to keep him safe from the shitstorm that’s brewing, is almost overwhelming.
As the contestants on TV navigate some kind of giant hamster wheel, Alex’s breathing starts to even out. His body grows heavier against mine, eyelids drooping. I stroke his hair,marveling at how he can drift off so peacefully when our world is about to implode.
That’s when I hear it. Soft footsteps outside our door, barely audible over the TV’s inane chatter. My entire body goes rigid, every nerve ending on high alert. Lenny’s chair creaks as he leans forward, his eyes meeting mine in a silent question.
I shake my head minutely, willing him to stay put. Alex shifts in his sleep, burrowing closer to me. The footsteps pause right outside our door.
My fingers brush the cold steel under my pillow. Fuck. This is it. I ease away from Alex, praying he stays asleep. Every muscle in my body’s coiled tight as I slide off the bed and walk toward the door.
A knock. My heart slams against my ribs.
“Who is it?” I manage, surprised my voice doesn’t shake.
“Room service!” Cheery as fuck.
I flick off the safety, sucking in a sharp breath. One look at Lenny, a quick nod.Get Alex, bathroom, now.But the universe has other plans. The door explodes inward with a sound like a bomb going off.
Alex wakes screaming, tears already flowing. “Momma!”
I plant myself in front of my family, gun up, ready to paint the walls red.
“Well, well,” comes a voice that turns my insides to ice. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Wren. Not unless you want your boy to see his mommy’s brains splattered all over this tacky wallpaper.”
68
Dimitri
The Chicago wind bites like a rabid dog, but it’s got nothing on the ice in my veins. I’m perched on a rooftop, binoculars trained on the dingy motel across the street. Wren’s in there, probably cuddling that brat of hers.Chert, when did she get so soft?
“Target’s on the move,” Oleg’s voice crackles through the earpiece. His icy blue eyes are probably narrowed to slits; the fucker’s always so damn serious.
I grunt in response, watching as a black SUV pulls up. My grip tightens on the binoculars as I see them drag Wren out, the kid clinging to her like a barnacle. Even from here, I can see the fear in her eyes. It’s wrong, all wrong. The Wren I know would be kicking, biting, leaving a trail of bodies. But she’s just… holding that kid.
“Blyat,” I spit, the curse tasting bitter on my tongue. “They’re taking her.”
Saveliy materializes beside me, silent as a fucking ghost. His long black hair whips in the wind as he peers over the edge. “We moving in, boss?”
I want to. Every muscle in my body is screaming to jump down there, to paint the street red with Zimniy’s blood. But I can’t. Not yet.
“Nyet,” I growl, the word feeling like broken glass in my throat. “We’ll find their filthy hole soon enough. And when we do, we’ll smoke ‘em out like the rats they are. They won’t know what hit ‘em. You got that?”
Oleg’s ice-blue eyes glint with murderous intent. “Da, boss. We’ll make them eat their own fucking entrails.”
Saveliy’s grin is all teeth, a predator ready to pounce. “Just point me at ‘em. I’ll carve my name into their bones.”
We climb down from the rooftop, my boots hitting the pavement with a heavy thud. A matte black Audi RS Q8 waits for us; I slide into the driver’s seat, the leather creaking under my weight. As Oleg and Saveliy pile in, I yank out my phone. Time to check in with the fashionista.
The phone rings five fucking times before Erik deigns to answer.
“Bonjour, mon cher!” Erik’s voice oozes fake cheer. “Comment ça va?”
“Speak English, you pretentious fuck,” I snarl. “Or I’ll rip out your tongue next time I see you.”
Erik laughs. “You’re in a mood, D. What’s got your balls in a vise?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that Wren’s been snatched by Zimniy’s goons,” I growl.
Could’ve pulled Zimniy’s spine out through his ass, use it to beat Elena to a bloody pulp. Two birds, one stone.
