Page 89 of Savage Truce

I create a chat between us and also add Rosie, telling her to send any real-time updates to this group.

As I glance up, I recognize a car speeding into the other side of the parking area, and realizing it’s Katya eases some of the tension in my chest. I watch as she hurries to get out and runs toward the hospital entrance, then I bring my attention back to the group.

“Five targets. I’ll take –”

“You take the nearest one so you’re closest to the hospital. We’ll kill the others,” Constantin says.

Giving the heads of the other mafias a grateful look, I walk toward the Rolls-Royce.

“Wait!” Anatas calls out. “Take Petar and Teodor with you. You can’t move around alone.”

“Thanks.” As the two men catch up to me, I give them a chin lift.

“Do you have a gun?” Petar asks.

“Yes.”

“We’ll follow your lead,” he says as he gets into the passenger side.

I slide in behind the steering wheel while Teodor climbs in behind me, and as I start the engine, I glance at the hospital where my best friend is fighting for his life.

“Once we’ve killed Gusev, we’re taking out Sokolov,” I inform them.

During the drive, I keep seeing Andrei’s cut-up face and all the fucking blood. My shirt has dried, but I can still feel the blood on my chest, and I won’t wash it off until I’ve gotten revenge for him.

Rage fills every ounce of my being, and when we’re close to the bar, I force the memories away so I can focus on my surroundings.

Cars line the sidewalks, and not giving a flying fuck, I double-park right outside the bar.

“Teodor, you’ll take over driving so we can make a quick getaway,” I order.

“Yes, sir.” As I get out, he moves to the driver’s seat.

I walk to the entrance of the bar with Petar and say, “You’re only backup in case something goes wrong.”

“Got it.”

Entering the establishment, my gaze sweeps over the bar counter and tables, and the moment I spot Gusev, he sees me too. The fucker jumps up and topples the table over before running for the door beside the counter.

Going after him, I shove people out of my way, and as I slam through the door, it’s to see Gusev struggling with the back exit. He can’t get it open, and spinning around, his eyes scour the kitchen for a weapon.

Oil sizzles, and a chef cautiously glances between Gusev and me as he creeps toward the door that leads to the bar area.

Gusev makes a wild dash for a knife, but my body collides with his before he can reach it, and I slam him into a metal table.

“It was just a job!” he shouts, panic lacing his words.

“It was just my best fucking friend,” I roar, and grabbing him by the back of his neck, I repeatedly hammer his face into the side of the table. “My fucking underboss!”

The skin splits over the bridge of his nose, and drops of blood hit the hot oil, the sizzle drawing my attention.

Not even thinking twice, I haul the fucker closer and shove his face into the fryer.

His body jerks and convulses for a few seconds before he goes limp and I let him drop to the floor. Ripping my gun from behind my back, I put two bullets in his fried face, making sure he’s dead.

As I stalk out of the kitchen, I don’t feel any better. People scatter out of my way, most giving me fearful looks.

When we leave the bar and get into the SUV, sirens sound up, which has Teodor flooring the gas.