Page 31 of Enemy of the Heart

I pull the trigger. It feels better than good, and I skip back toward the boat, keeping an eye on the two friends as they meet me there. The boat rocks as we climb aboard. As one of Viktor’s soldiers puts the boat into gear, the engine roars, pulling away from the island.

The gunfire has died down now, but I move to the bow and chuck my last grenade for fun, clutching the pin as I watch the explosion on the beach with delight. Behind me, Viktor and Sasha speak to Kazi in hushed, fervent Russian that I pretend not to hear.

I lean back as arms band around my middle tightly, strong and familiar. I don’t even mind the musty, stale scent of sweat, dirt, and grime that covers his body. The position must hurt considering the injury to his shoulder, but he seems to be ignoring the pain.

“I love you, Lou,” he murmurs, only for me, his words warming my insides. His lips brush my upper cheek, and I twist in his embrace, pressing onto my toes. Uncaring of the eyes watching us, I grip his face and smash my lips to his. The kiss is messy, our lips moving frantically, fighting to climb within the body of the other.

When we finally break apart, my chest heaves, my fingertips coasting over his buzzed hair.

“Are you alright?”

“With you here now? Yeah,” he whispers, breathing into my mouth as though he’s resuscitating me. “I’m more than okay.”

I remove the sliver of space between us, my head dropping to his sweat-slicked skin. Smiling against his body, I’m finally able to appreciate true, lasting freedom now that we’re together again.

I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced a quieter fifteen hours in all my life. My palm is clammy from where Sean has clutched it tightly the entire flight. He and Honey Eyes were wordless nearly the whole time, staring out the window. Neither man slept, but now that they’ve been removed from the concrete castle of horrors, I imagine the trauma they were forced to endure has settled over them like a vile blanket.

Viktor and Sasha immediately took Kazi to the back bedroom, presumably to tend to his injuries, or maybe it was just to have a moment with their friend who they thought had died.

The inside of the plane is just as mute throughout the flight as the clouds outside—invisible, evil spirits in the form of exhaustion, pain, and sorrow fill the cabin.

I’m the first one off the plane the moment we touch down in Moscow, smiling as I tilt my head back and breathe in the crisp, clean scent of snow. I toss the items I brought back from Boston—including my pillow and the .338 Lapua Magnum—into the boot of one of the idling SUVs waiting for us before piling into the back with Sean and Honey Eyes.

They’re both dressed in pairs of Viktor’s sweatpants. The grey fabric is too tight around Sean’s thighs and a bit long on Jace. They each adamantly rejected the offer of shirts, not that I’m complaining, even if it wasn’t necessarily for my benefit. They’ll likely regret that choice now that they’re experiencing an Eastern European winter firsthand.

The tires crunch over the freshly fallen snow and pea gravel as the car meanders down the long private drive of Viktor’s estate. Eventually, Viktor’s colossal mansion constructed of ivory stone comes into view.

Sliding from the back seat after Sean, and noting his bare feet, I cringe. As I grab my rifle and pillow from the back, I hear Digs mutter to Jace, “This place is like something out of one of your Playboy magazines.”

“Man, it’s a fucking crime to have left those behind. Some of those were exclusive limited editions.”

I snigger quietly as Viktor approaches me, his dogs on his heels. “You three can take the cottage. I’ll send a nurse for you, and the doctor can drop by after he’s finished examining Kazi, if you need him.”

Dipping my chin, I turn to leave when he stops me. “I’ll send a man to investigate your brother’s flat tonight.” I swallow hard against the spike in my blood pressure.

Sean’s hand suddenly finds my palm and instantly calms my nervous system. “We’ll find him,” he reassures me once Viktor and his canine sentries have entered the house.

He’s right, we will.

Sean

The landscaping around us is immaculate, and I feel like I stepped onto a goddamn movie set. My feet are beyond freezing as Jace and I follow Louhi around the side of Viktor’s sprawling home. I must admit that I’m glad to be distancing myself from those damned dogs, though.

My teeth chatter as the groomed path leads to one of the largest backyards I’ve ever seen. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure a lawn this expansive can even be categorized as a yard.

“That’s the clinic.” Louhi points to a building as we pass. “Viktor keeps a full surgical team on standby. Hazards of the mafia or whatever.”

Damn. This new reality is bitch-slapping me across the face.

The trek to the small brown cottage sitting at the tree line at the back of the vast, landscaped area feels miles long, but that’s probably because it’s cold as fuck here. The fact that I don’t have a shirt, shoes, or underwear doesn’t help.

“Please tell me it’s not always this cold,” I mutter the second we step inside. Rubbing my hands together, I blow my hot breath on my clench fists, but it does nothing to ward off the chill that’s crawled beneath my skin.

Jace snorts, and his palm connects with the back of my head good-naturedly. “It’s Russia in fucking January, dipshit.”

“It’s not quite so miserable when you have adequate clothing.” Louhi giggles, her pillow still stuffed under one arm, and her rifle case in the other.

She starts down a corridor and turns to face us both, just before disappearing. “There should be food in the fridge, and if I remember correctly, from the last time I stayed here, there’s three bedrooms. I usually take the one at the end of this hallway.”