“No, let them go. Dominik is stuck in one of the prison cells. Someone come down here and get him out,” I say.
“On the way. Sorry I haven’t checked in.”
I take a deep breath when I finally hear Pyotr’s voice. “Thought you were dead.”
“Halfway there,” Pyotr replies with a weak laugh.
I think we’re all in that state.
I take a deep breath and peer at my brother through the bars, tension winding around my chest as I realize how much I hate being separated from him like this. I couldn’t protect him like I wanted to.
And I couldn’t have won this fight without him. Without Alina.
When Pyotr reaches the prison and frees Dominik from the cell, I step up to my brother and pull his arm around my shoulders, knowing that he’s hurt. We both are, but we’re not leaving each other’s sides.
We fought together. We bled together. Wewontogether.
That’s how we should remain.
Together we’reunstoppable.
50
Dominik
After the entireestate has been searched for straggling enemies and the fire is completely put out, emergency medics are called in to help the wounded.
That’s basically everyone.
Gavriil, Alina, and I eventually find a quiet space together in the living room. We sit on the long, leather sectional in the midst of the fight’s aftermath. Knocked over furniture. Cushions with bullet holes. Blood staining the rug in front of the fireplace.
“Are you sure you want to keep this place?” I ask Gavriil as I hand Alina a small bottle of vodka that I found in the nearby bar.
Alina pours a little bit onto the wound on Gavriil’s side as he sits shirtless next to her, making him hiss through his teeth. “Yes. It just needs some cleanup.”
“A bunch of people died in here, on both sides,” Alina mutters under her breath as she concentrates, holding a needle with sterile suture thread attached with a needle driver.
“If I avoided every place where people died, I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere,” Gavriil replies.
“You want tolivehere,” Alina says before piercing Gavriil’s skin with the point of the needle.
Gavriil tightens his jaw, his body tensing from the pain. “It’s a good house.”
A small smirk forms on my lips as I rest my hand on Alina’s thigh, watching her work to patch Gavriil up. He turned away all the medics so that they could focus on other people, but Alina wore him down to at least letting her treat him.
“I’m not a doctor. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” Alina reminds him as she threads the needle through his skin, steadily sealing the gash.
“You’re doing well,” I assure her.
Alina passes me a grateful look before focusing back on suturing. “I’m glad you’re both okay. You scared me there for a minute.”
“The Irish bastard put up a good fight,” Gavriil replies as he rests his forearm on the top of his head, keeping it out of Alina’s way.
“We put up a better one,” I say as our eyes meet.
The side of his mouth turns up ever so slightly. “No surprise there.”
Adrenaline still courses through me, sheer determination glowing in my chest. My body may be tired, but I feel motivated enough for ten more fights. We’re more of a team now than we’ve ever been.
