Alexei’s people move with quiet efficiency. Within minutes, the building is cleared. Bodies are covered, exits secured, and vehicles repositioned. Someone wraps a blanket around my shoulders.
Gabriel keeps one arm around me as we move across the main floor toward the exit. I try not to look at the bodies.
“He said more of his men are coming,” I say to Gabriel as he leads me out. “Are?—”
“No sign of that so far,” he replies. “But in the event he wasn’t bullshitting, we’re going to be long gone before any backup arrives.”
His words send a rush of calm through me. We’re safe, and Kolya is dead.
When he opens the door and the night air hits my face—cold, sharp, and real—I breathe it in so deeply, my lungs ache.
Then I see her.
Sylvie is seated in the back of a van, a blanket around her shoulders, the cut above her eye cleaned but not yet bandaged. A man is crouched beside her, speaking quietly as he works on the injury. She looks up as I approach.
I don’t say anything, neither does she.
I open my arms.
For a moment, she doesn’t move. Her expression is guarded, all the hardness she was forced to develop with Kolya locked inplace. But then something cracks. She hops out of the van and walks into my arms. I hold her tight.
She’s so thin. I can feel her ribs through the blanket, the sharp angle of her shoulder blades. We’re both shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair. “I’m so sorry I left you.”
Her arms tighten around me.
“You came back this time.”
“Yes, I did.”
She pulls away, wipes her face with the back of her hand, and nods once. That’s enough. For now, that’s enough.
She heads back to the van, where the soldier continues to work on Sylvie’s cut. Gabriel places his hands on my shoulders.
He guides me toward the opened back of a different van. A man approaches, his face familiar. He looks me up and down and nods.
“Good to see you, cousin.”
I’m confused. “Cousin?”
He smiles—a surprisingly warm smile for a man who was just engaged in battle not twenty minutes ago.
“Cousin Alexei. It’s been a while. But we have all the time in the world to get to know each other. For now, how about we get the hell out of here?”
I have so many questions. But he’s right. I want to get as far away from this place as possible.
“Yeah. Let’s do that. And thank you.”
He winks. “That’s what family is all about, right?”
Gabriel claps his hand down on Alexei’s shoulder, offering a silent thank you of his own. Then Alexei steps back, gesturing toward the back of the van.
“Come.”
Gabriel wordlessly helps me inside. The interior is warm and dark. Safe. I sit on the bench seat, Gabriel sliding in beside me. I lean into him and the tears finally come.
They’re not ugly, body-shaking sobs. They’re quieter, deeper. The kind of crying that happens when your mind finally understands the danger has passed and releases everything—every moment of terror and helplessness, every moment of Kolya’s gun pressed to my temple.
