I follow until something dawns on me. “Why didn’t they kill you?” I ask softly. So soft, I’m surprised she can even hear me.
But she does. And she stops in her tracks just before the trees.
“Why didn’t they kill you, Katerina? Why did they send you to Montana?”
Kat’s shoulders move up and down with the rapid pace of her breath, but she doesn’t face me.
“Katerina,” I snap. “Why areyouhere?”
“Miles Keller.”
My stomach drops.
“He’s one of them. He’s part of the brotherhood. He uses his company to launder money.”
Tears fill my eyes. I didn’t get away. I thought I found freedom here, I thought I found peace. But even across the country, I somehow wound up in all of their… theirbullshit.
I didn’t get away. And neither did my sister.
Wait.
My eyes snap toward the barn and back to my sister. “Why are we out here, Kat? Why were you in the barn?”
She finally turns to me again, eyes shining with grief and shame. “I’m sorry. I had to do what they told me. They promised me that if I did, you wouldn’t get hurt. That they’d just go after—I couldn’t risk you being hurt.”
“No,” I gasp. Now it’s my tears that fall.
“Anya,please.Just… please stay here.”
Without another word, I turn back toward the house. I make it half a step when the sound of an engine breaks through the trees.
“No. They-they weren’t supposed to be back here,” Kat says frantically.
The engine hum grows louder.
Closer.
I turn to face the trees, to face my sister, as white headlights cut through the dark, washing over us in harsh, unforgiving light. My eyes burn as I lift my hand, my pulse thundering so hard I swear it echoes.
Kat backs toward me, shaking.
Branches snap, and I can faintly hear Lucy’s barking pick back up off in the distance.
Then, men emerge from the tree line like they’ve been here all along. Dark coats, faces half covered. Purposeful. Efficient. Planned.
“Anya…run.”
But before I get the chance to move so much as a muscle, she gasps, hands flying out instinctively, fingers reaching for mine as a set of arms pulls her toward the tree line. “Anya! I’m sorry. I’msosorry,” she cries, panic shattering her voice.
I lunge for her before strong arms slam into my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I hit the snow hard, the cold biting through my coat as hands pin my shoulders and wrists.
“Stop!” I scream. “Let her go!”
Kat’s dragged backward, boots carving frantic lines in the snow. She fights, kicks, and sobs my name until a hand clamps over her mouth before one of the men says something that sounds like, “Change of plans, Katerina.”
One of the men looks down at me.
Really looks.
