Morozov regains his footing but Augusto keeps coming, relentless and unstoppable, his eyes only on me and the door to Paige’s room.
With one hand he shoves me backward, out of the way, then he collides with Morozov.
Violence explodes in front of my eyes, so fast and brutal that I don’t register Arrow flying into the room with me, Mallorie’s cries following down the hall. All I can hear is thethud, thud, thudof fists against flesh, the grunts of grown men giving it their all.
An image of the man Augusto had beaten up in the outhouse flashes in front of me. He was beaten good. I can only hope and pray that Augusto can do the same to Morozov. I catch a glimpse of his gun in the waistband of his pants.Why isn’t he reaching for it?
Then I see the look in his eyes as he drives a giant into Morozov’s face. He needs to feel his bones break. A gun is too quick, too clean. Augusto doesn’t just want toseethis man’s life seep through his fingers, he wants tofeelit.
Arrow holds me back as my gaze catches on a flash of steel.
“No!”
Morozov’s knife drives forward. Into Augusto.
A wet, sickening sound fills the hallway and the breath tumbles out of me so fast I almost break in half.
A scream tears out of me before I can stop it, but Augusto doesn’t fall.
He grabs Morozov by the throat and slams him into the wall with a force that rattles the entire house. The knife clatters to the floor.
Now, Augusto reaches for his gun.
Blood pours out of his torso but he doesn’t notice. His fingers dig deep into Morozov’s windpipe, the Russian’s beating fists going unnoticed.
Augusto cocks the gun and presses the barrel into Morozov’s left eye socket.
My mouth falls open.
He issues one command and it’s aimed at us in the room.
“Move.”
Arrow drags me and Paige out of the room and back down the hall. Before he can stop me, I spin around in time to see Augusto pull the trigger. We were right to vacate the room. The bullet smashes right through Morozov’s skull, and drives into the wall.
Paige screams. She’s on her feet but caught somewhere between slumber and nightmare.
I’m pretty confident Morozov is dead, but Augusto holds the man up with one hand. Three hundred pounds of hard Russian—dead—muscle. He shoves the gun into his right eye socket, spits in the Pakhan’s face and fires again.
Morozov’s body jerks once. His legs give out, his knees cracking on the floor, then he falls forward, blood gushing from his eye sockets, and face-plants the ground.
Paige releases a sound that I never want to hear again in my life. Whipping around, I pull her into me, covering her face, her ears—everything I can reach. It’s over, and it’s too late to shield her from it all, but I try anyway.
But then the house sways. My hold on Paige loosens and she looks up at me, her face covered in blood.
I reach for her but my left arm won’t work.
Her eyes stretch wide, roaming me wildly. “Mom?—"
Silence hurtles into me and the entire hallway tilts.
“Erin…”
Augusto’s voice warms my ears but he’s too far away. Too far…
My legs buckle but strong hands catch me before I hit the floor.
“She’s bleeding—” Mallorie’s shocked exclamation ricochets off the walls.
