“Don’t hurt him!” Valya yells, going around me to stand in front of our father. “He’s innocent! He made us do this!”
“Devochka,”Kirill whispers, his blue eyes softening.
I put my hands up, taking slow steps toward my husband.
“I’m okay,” I promise, shaking my head. “But don’t shoot him. Kirill, please don’t shoot him.”
Kirill’s softened gaze hardens once more, and he grits his teeth as he turns his head back to my father and raises his gun.
“He put you in danger,” he grits out.
“I know,” I tell him, coming closer to him, “I know, baby. And I’m angry too. But please. He’s my father. He’s the only parent I have left. Don’t shoot him.”
I reach Kirill, and I slowly extend my hands to touch him. I run a hand down the chest of his shirt, and feel how hot and sweat-slicked he is from his rage. He’s even trembling with it.
Kirill lets out a strangled sound from his throat as he feels my touch, but he doesn’t lower his gun or look away from my father.
“Please, baby,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his waist. I press my head against his chest, and hold him tight. “Please.”
I hear Kirill take a shuddering breath, and he finally lowers his gun. His arms come around me tight as I sag into him with relief, for a moment we just hold each other.
“Are you alright?” he rasps, stroking his hand over my hair.
I nod against his chest as tears fill my eyes.
“I’m okay, but Kirill, we have to go. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Even as I feel the urgency in my words, I can’t move away from Kirill’s embrace yet- and he can’t seem to let go of me either.Even when I hear a faint creak, a soft gasp from Valya and feel tremor of fear move up my spine, we still can’t let go of another.
It’s only when I feel the barrel of gun pressed against my head I realize this moment of happiness was a mistake.
“Awww,” Pyotr's voice comes from behind me. “So very sweet.”
Kirill’s eyes snap open the same time as mine, and I see them move above me as his nostrils flare and his entire body hardens.
“Pyotr,” Kirill warns through grit her teeth. “Put the gun down.”
I feel Pyotr’s hand wrap tight around my arm as he keeps the barrel flush against the back of my head and tries to pull me out of Kirill’s arms.
“No,” Pyotr sighs, “I don’t think I will.”
“Pyotr, please-” I sob, and my words halt in my throat, cut off by a cry as he pushes the barrel harder against the back of my skull.
“Let her go,” Pyotr demands, “Or the last image you’ll have of your wife is her blood rushing toward your face.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kirill
I’m going to kill him.
The calm thought soothes the rage pouring through me as I force my arms to let go of my wife. Her eyes are rimmed with tears and her chin wobbles as she grits her teeth and follows Pyotr’s lead.
“It’s okay,devochka,”I promise her as Pyotr forces her another step backwards.
“Kirill,” she sobs as Pyotr’s free hand wraps around her throat.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” I soothe.
