Cruel Love Page 20

  Then, he’s nothing at all.

  I abandon his body and head outside only to find another man in black running toward me. I shift into a fighting stance, ready to take him down as swiftly as I did the others.

  A car slams into him at full speed. His body hurls into a parked car nearby and he crumbles to the concrete, bones crunching beneath his skin.

  The driver’s side opens, and Markov hops out. He gives me a nod and tosses me an M16 as Luka climbs out of the passenger’s seat.

  “We saw him go back inside,” Luka says, referring to Gio but I couldn’t give two shits about him right now.

  I flex my jaw in anger as the white van disappears around the corner down the street.

  I give the gun back to Markov. “I need your car,” I say, striding toward the driver’s side.

  “What about Gio?” Luka asks.

  “Fuck him. I’m going after Lucy.”

  I ignore their looks of anger and disappointment — possibly betrayal — as I lower myself into the car. I said I’d go in for Gio once Lucy was safe.

  The plan has officially changed.

  I’m getting my lover back.

  I hit the gas, speeding off in the direction of the white van. I don’t make it twenty feet before someone shoots the windshield out trying to take me down. I spy the men on the street by the corner with guns and swerve in their direction, happily knocking them on their asses while other pedestrians race in the opposite direction.

  I throw the gear into reverse to get off the curb as a man takes aim at my face outside my window. Maybe I should have kept that M16.

  Before he can fire a shot, his eye explodes with a burst of red and he drops to his knees.

  Something slams onto the roof above my head and a body quickly rolls down the car’s nose.

  Fox swiftly plants his feet on the ground. He stands up with his sniper rifle by his side.

  I shake my head. “Nice shot,” I say, taking a breath.

  He rushes over and hops into the passenger’s side. “Take a left,” he says. “They’re heading toward the stadium.”

  I nod and hit the gas, happy to have him by my side in this. I figured he’d go into the club for Gio and keep his promise to Luka. Just gives me another reason to trust my old drinking buddy.

  And another reason to not trust the Russian mob but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

  I keep my eyes open for the van as I speed toward the stadium. Buildings pass us in a blur, screams echo behind us. But all I hear is Lucy. The warmth of her touch. The whisper of her voice. Nothing else matters but getting her back.

  “There.” Fox points to the right, spotting the van.

  I turn the next corner, barely letting up off the gas. The car jerks from the momentum and Fox lays a tight arm on the dashboard to try and sit still without his seatbelt.

  The van veers off the busy street into an alleyway. I stay on them, keeping our speed up until we catch up within a block of them on a dark, almost empty, street.

  “Shoot out the windows,” I bark at Fox.

  He tilts his head. “I could hit Lucy,” he says.

  “The tires, then.”

  “That could roll the van.”

  I grit my teeth. “Do it carefully.”

  Fox takes his rifle and shifts upward to hang out the window of the car, locking his boot beneath the seat to hold himself steady. He raises the rifle and braces it against his solid shoulder while he stares through the scope.

  I grip the wheel, trying to keep the car straight while he takes aim. “Shoot!” I say.

  “Hold on...”

  I wait for a few more seconds, each drum of my pulse pumping battery acid through my head. “Fox, shoot!”

  “Almost...”

  “What are you waiting for?!”

  He pulls the trigger, firing a single bullet into the left front tire. The tire wobbles off its bearing and the van tilts. The driver over-corrects toward the curb and crashes into a line of trees by the side of the road.

  Fox slides back in as I start hitting the brake. “Carefully,” he repeats, gesturing forward.

  I stop the car beside the van and throw my door open. “Yeah, yeah...”

  The side door on the van slides open before I can stand up, revealing one of the men who carried Lucy out of the club. He holds up a pistol at me, but a bullet pierces his forehead, dropping him to the ground.

  I look over to see Fox leaning out of his window again, rifle raised and smoking.

  “Now you’re just showing off,” I say.

  Fox hops out. “Check the driver.”

  “You check him.” I beeline toward the van, stepping over the lifeless body to peek inside the open door. “Lucy!” I shout, hoping to hear her voice again.

  Say something, Luce. Anything.

  The door on the other side flies open and one of the men limps out and runs off into the woods as fast as he can. Fox takes aim and fires a killing blow before he can disappear.

  “Driver looks unconscious,” he says, easing in to take a closer look.

  I see her lying on the floor against the back doors, her head obscured by that black hood they put on her. Cold, unmoving...

  “Lucy!”

  I climb inside, driven by one solitary need.

  “Lucy...”

  I lift her head and slowly loosen the hood to pull it off, revealing a head of short, blonde hair...

  It’s not Lucy.

  It’s her clothes. Her boots. Her body type, but...

  My chest aches. No, no, no...

  A crumpled piece of paper is pinned to her dress. I unfold it, finding a crude, handwritten message in blood-red ink.

  She’s my dancer now.

  “It’s not her,” I say aloud.

  They played us.

  “What?” Fox asks in the doorway.

  I press two fingers along her neck to feel for a pulse. She’s dead. Whoever this poor girl is, they killed her to make sure they got away with Lucy Vaughn.

  Why?

  A man groans in the front seat. I softly release the girl down to the floor and back out of the van, marching directly for the driver’s open window.

  He reaches into his jacket and palms a small pistol, but he doesn’t bother pointing it at me.

  He aims at his own head.

  “No—” I grab it, jerking it away as he pulls the trigger. It fires through the roof, missing his target. “I don’t think so.”

  I yank him out of the van, dropping him down to the concrete and kicking the gun from his hand. Another swift punch to the head knocks him cold and he goes limp on the ground.

  I need him alive.

  “Dante.”

  I turn to Fox. He’s knelt on the ground outside of the van with the dead man’s shirt raised to show his abdomen.

  A cobra tattoo dances from his pecs to his navel.

  I check the driver. He’s got the same tattoo.

  Snake Eyes.

  Sirens cry in the distance, quickly moving closer.

  “We’ve gotta go,” Fox says as he steps toward the unconscious driver behind me.

  I nod, somehow moving through the numb feeling taking me over from head-to-toe.

  Lucy. Christ, I’m sorry...

  We pick him up and drop him in the trunk, disarming him completely before shutting him in. I let Fox take the wheel as I process the grief in my bones.

  But the grief doesn’t last more than a minute.

  Anger swells in me, quickly becoming rage. They betrayed my family. They killed my brother and tried to do the same to my baby sister, but this…

  This is too fucking far.

  I stare straight ahead, craving so much more than blood.

  Chapter 34

  Luka

  Gio Zappia.

  We make eye contact as our car races down the street with Dante inside. His face falls for a moment before his smirk crawls up his scarred face. So, that’s what’s different about him. That fall from the plane must have fucke
d up his face a little.

  I look forward to getting close enough to be sure.

  He turns on his heels and starts running down the street, trying to get lost in the sea of screaming, panicked tourists as they race away from the club.

  I quickly free my pistol from my ankle holster.

  “Luka...” Markov warns, knowing the look on my face.

  This is a crowded city street in the center of Moscow. If this turns south, even Markov and his many connections won’t be able to protect me from the local law enforcement.

  “I’m not letting him get away,” I say.

  I take off, breaking into a sprint to try and catch up with Gio. His shadow disappears around the corner and I grit my teeth, pushing myself harder. I can’t let him get away.

  I won’t let him get away.

  For my Sofia.

  I promised her vengeance. I will not fail her.

  I turn the corner, spotting Gio standing in the middle of the street. The city lights reflect off the black metal in his hands. I fall back as he fires two shots at me. More screams echo as people bolt in the opposite direction. I smile, thankful that Gio is stupid enough to make every possible innocent bystander avoid him like a plague.

  A man kneels beside me. I recognize the familiar tuft a silver-gray hair in my peripheral vision. Markov nods with his rifle clenched in his old hands. Loyal to a fault. Not that I ever doubted he wouldn’t follow me into this fight.

  I ease forward, careful of any cheap pop-shots, but Gio has already spun around and bolted down the street. We stand and run, more determined than ever to bring him down but there’s not much we can do but give chase. I can already hear sirens on the horizon, racing toward the center of the city from all directions. I could really use Fox’s sniper eye right about now, but I won’t dwell on what should be.

  I stop and raise my gun, holding my breath as I try to aim for Gio’s back. I fire off a shot, missing him by a short distance. He ducks on instinct, twisting around and spraying several shots with no real sense of aim or direction. I duck behind a car with Markov, listening to the damage as windows break and pedestrians continue screaming.

  Gio rushes off again, quickly heading into an alleyway at the end of the street. I charge after him, picking up my pace and Markov continues to follow close behind me until we reach the alley.

  I stop by the outer wall, gently tilting my gaze to look first just in case Gio is lying in wait. The alley appears clear. Panic rises in me. I lurch forward, driven by a need to find him, and another shot rings out from behind the dumpster at the far end by the fence.

  “Gio!” I shout, leaning back. “You’ve got nowhere to go.”

  “I’ve got more places to hide than you do, Lutrova!”

  His hand emerges again. I duck as another bullet fires in our direction.

  A car rolls up behind him and stops, the back door wide open for him. A man in black waves him inside and Gio springs from his hiding place to run toward it.

  I grit my teeth. I can’t let him leave.

  I leap out of hiding, raising my pistol and aiming for the back of his head.

  I pull the trigger and the gun clicks. I’m empty.

  The man in black holds up a rifle and aims down the barrel at me.

  “Luka!”

  Markov shoves me to the side as the bullet rings out. I tumble to the wall, nearly falling but I remain upright as Markov drops to his knees.

  The car door slams. I rush forward several steps as the tires peel out on the concrete.

  One glance backward stops me cold.

  Crimson blood pours from Markov’s eye.

  My heart lurches in my chest, memories of my father’s final moments flooding back to me.

  No.

  Not again.

  “Markov?”

  He bows forward. I kneel to grab him before he falls.

  “Markov!”

  I turn him over onto his back in the alleyway, thankful to still feel a bit of resistance in his muscles. He hasn’t gone limp yet, not like my father did. He’s fighting. He’s still here. He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s—

  “Luka...” he murmurs with one hand pressed hard against his face.

  I try to guide his hand. “Let me see—”

  “Go after him.”

  “I won’t leave you, Markov.”

  He refuses to let me check his wound, stubbornly brushing my hand away.

  A car squeals, halting on the street behind us. I grab Markov’s rifle off the ground, thinking it’s Gio come back to finish us off. I twist around and point it toward the black vehicle, my finger eagerly hugging the trigger.

  “Luka!” Fox shouts from the driver’s seat, barely audible over the shrieking sirens closing in. “Come on!”

  Dante hops out of the car and rushes around to help me with Markov. I lower my weapon and we each take one of Markov’s arms, pulling him off the ground and shoving him into the backseat.

  I slide in behind Markov as Dante rushes to get back into the passenger side. “Let me see,” I say again, taking hold of Markov’s wrist.

  Markov sits up and slowly pulls his hand away. I cringe at the deep, red gash above his left eye. It’s a graze. Not a pretty one, but... just a graze. If it had been one or two centimeters off...

  I would have lost another father.

  “You’ll be all right, Markov,” I say, breathing out.

  He yanks a cloth from his pocket and presses his hand over his eye again. “I know,” he says, shrugging with amusement. “This was nothing.”

  Luck. That’s what it was. Blind luck.

  I sit back, unable to find the same humor in it as my mentor does. My heart won’t stop pounding. I lay a hand on the car door to keep from jerking as Fox takes the corners at high speed. There are no cars around. No police giving chase behind us. Fox is good at getting lost.

  And so is Gio.

  “Lucy,” Markov says, glancing into the front seat. “Where’s our girl?”

  “She was taken,” Fox answers with a cautious eye on Dante. “We caught up to the van, but it wasn’t her inside.”

  Markov bows his head.

  “Snake Eyes,” Dante growls. “It was them.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “There’s one in the trunk,” he says. “I have a few questions for him...”

  “We’ll get her back, Dante,” Fox says, staring straight ahead at the road.

  Dante flexes his hard jawline.

  I tilt my head in thought. “Snake Eyes and Gio,” I say. “It can’t be coincidence.”

  “You think he’s still working with them?” Fox asks, though his tone shows that he already knows the answer.

  Of course, he is. After he hired assassins to invade my home, I invaded his. I told his father to his face that Gio was dead to him. Gio had nowhere else to go.

  And Snake Eyes would see him as a valuable ally.

  I roll my fists, losing my temper as I punch the side of the door three times. No one says a word. I wouldn’t care if they did.

  Gio walks the streets a free man. Snakes roam loose in Moscow.

  I stare at my torn, bleeding knuckles. My guts aching with regret.

  Please forgive me, lyubov’ moya.

  I failed you.

  Chapter 35

  Archer

  “One, two...”

  Lilah and I toss the body to the ground, resting him beside the long line of also-dead agents.

  I insisted on lining them up side-by-side as opposed to just piling them and setting them on fire... as Lilah would have preferred.

  Sure, they’re all horrible killers but they were just folk at some point. Someone’s brother. Someone’s son. Maybe even some fathers, if what Boxcar says is true.

  “Just one more,” Lilah says, turning back toward the house.

  I take a breath and wipe the sweat off my brow before following her inside. She heads straight toward the kitchen, her beady eyes locking on Boxcar at the living room t
able as we pass by him yet again. His fingers click along his laptop keyboard, concentration deep — yet frayed at the edges. The man came face-to-face with a gun and lived to speak of it. That alone is enough to rattle any man. Add in the identity of the man who held the gun and, well...

  He’s holding up better than I would be, that’s for sure.

  I kneel by the refrigerator, hooking my hands into the armpits of the man lying on the floor with two bullets through his eyes.

  Lilah grabs his legs and braces herself. “One, two...”

  We lift him up and begin carrying him out the way we came, blood spilling off his clothing onto the carpet. That’s gonna be hell to get out...

  “Hey, Slappy.”

  Boxcar glances up from his laptop as we pass by him.

  “You gonna help or what?” Lilah asks him.

  He laughs. “Y-no. You kill ‘em, you dump the bodies. This ain’t a you cook, I clean kind of deal, all right?”

  I sigh, way too tired for this shit. “You two...”

  Lilah drops the legs. “What are you even doing anyway?” she asks, ignoring me.

  Boxcar exhales hard. “Well, to start, I burrowed into the security mainframe and replaced their tech with my tech. Now, even if someone tries to remote into it from somewhere off-site, they can’t. Then, I wired the outdoor systems to send me immediate alerts. If anything larger than a squirrel moves within one-hundred feet of our perimeter, my phone lights up like the Fourth of July, or... Bastille Day, given the current locale. Lastly, when Myra caught me, she yanked my connection which knocked all the indoor cameras offline. I’m currently trying to get them back on from the top floor down. However, that means eventually going downstairs which I’m not exactly looking forward to as it’s currently populated by that raven-haired psycho bitch.”

  Lilah pauses and slowly raises a brow. “Not bad, Boxcar,” she says.

  He blinks at the compliment. “Thank you...”

  She bends over and grabs the dead man’s legs again, giving me a let’s go nod before tugging us both toward the back garden.

  “Now, was that so hard?” I ask as soon as we’re outside.

  “Was what so hard?”