I lean away from Ryan and vomit, heaving over and over into the corner of the dark space as the acrid taste of bile coats my tongue.
Rubbing my back and holding my hair, Ryan comforts me as I hear Viktor’s boots moving around behind us. I assume he’s moving the body of his father.
When I’ve retched all that I have left in my stomach, I turn back toward the small space, and suck in the scent of the iron rich dirt. Ryan hands me a water bottle from the shelf and a mint from his pocket. I feel bad for making fun of him now. Turns out they do come in handy.
“Where’s Max?” The words come out abruptly with fear. “I—”
Viktor steps toward me, his face downturned, his hands reaching out as though he’s about to tell me terrible news, news I’m not ready to hear.
“No!” Tears fall from my face as he tightens his grip on my arm, my body sandwiched between him and Ryan. “No! What happened? He… no! I just got him back. I can’t. No!” My knees begin to buckle but the men hold me firm in silence, unwaveringly strong as I fall apart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Viktor
Watching my brother be shot takes the number one spot for the worst sight I’ve ever seen, and by my father none the less. The filthy, vial, sick, twisted, piece of shit that is my blood. He deserved to die. I only wish I could have tortured him first and watch him squirm, watch him beg.
We lay Everleigh in the small bed and cover her with a rough army blanket that was in the root cellar. I’m almost thankful she passed out. Her brain is on overload. She’s not used to this type of life, nor should she be. No one should be, and the fact that she has to see any of this shit makes my heart break in fucking two.
“What the hell are we going to do?” Ryan leans against the counter, staring down at his boots. “We can’t let her see something like this ever again. I was helpless down there. He’d have shot me if I moved. I knew it without a doubt. What was he doing here, anyway? He has men to do his dirty work.”
“He had two of them. Max and I took his goons down easily, but the old man had Max cornered by the shed out back while I was pinned down. I didn’t see what was happening until it was too late. He’d already shot him once.” I hang my head and suck in a deep breath. “Fucking hell, he should’ve stayed gone. Why did he take that money? He couldn’t even use it.” I scrub my hand over top my face, massaging my temples as I lean my back against the pine wood wall.
“So what now?”
“Now,” a voice says from the doorway, “he’s the head of the Russian mafia.”
I pull my gun from my waistline and aim it at the door, my heart racing as I go on full alert.
“Whoa, brother,” Max says. “I’m starting to get a complex. Point that gun away.”
I take a step back, my eyes widening as I stare at Max’s face. He’s hunched over, saturated with blood, and his face is pale as a can of white paint, but he’s alive, talking, and standing in front of me.
“You guys going to help me or what?”
I rush in toward him, gathering him up under my arm. Ryan grips him under the other and we help him in front of the fire that’s nearly gone out.
“I thought you were dead. You had no pulse. You were—”
“Obviously, I had a pulse.” He smiles, his body shaking. He’s in shock, probably hobbled up here on adrenaline.
I look toward Ryan. “There’s a med bag in the back of my truck.”
With wide eyes, Ryan runs outside, and I turn back toward Max, gripping his hand in mine.
“You’re going to be okay. I’m going to—”
“Evie, where is she?”
“She’s asleep. She’s untouched.”
He closes his eyes and lets out a short sigh of relief. “I did this. I did this to everyone. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that money. I knew it would start a war. I was a chicken shit to run.” He looks away. “I deserve this. I deserve worse than this after the danger I put Evie in.” For the first time in my life, I see a tear run down my brother’s face. “I deserve to die.”
“It just means you have a story to tell,” Everleigh says softly. She bends down to Max’s side slowly, shaking, taking in the bloodied mess that lays out in front of the fire. “I thought you were dead.”
“You and everyone else,” he says, holding out a trembling hand for her.
She takes it and stares down at him. “You’re not leaving me again. Do you hear me? You’re mine. I’m not letting you go. I don’t care that you made mistakes, or that your family is fucked up, or that you ran away.” She sucks in a deep breath and stares down at him. “You came back.”
