by Nicole Fox
It’s only plastic, but with all of my weight behind it, the pitcher packs a wallop. The man cries out, falling forward onto the tray of food, a greenish goop spreading across his T-shirt, and before he can right himself, I slip the gun from his right hip and aim it at the side of his head.
“Give me the keys.”
The man narrows his eyes at me. “You wouldn’t.”
I cock the gun. “Try me.”
Without hesitating, the man heaves his large frame off the tray and onto his back. From there, he pulls the key out of his front pocket and hands it to my dad. He whimpers, “Don’t shoot me.”
He’s still trembling on the floor when we slam the cell door shut and slide the bolt into place.
Instantly, my dad grabs my hand. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
“No.” I yank my hand back. “I told you, there’s someone down here fighting for us, and I’m going to fight for him, too.”
“Him?” My dad looks at me the same way he did every time I mentioned a human male in high school—like he’s angry and also might throw up. “Do not tell me you let one of these Russian men fool you into thinking he cares for you.”
“I’m not a child,” I say, hating how much those words make me sound like a child. “And he didn’t fool me. He does care for me, and I care for him, too.”
My dad grabs my shoulders hard and looks into my eyes. “Those Russians are all alike, Bells. I’ve worked with them for years. Whatever that man told you, it was a lie. A manipulation.”
“You would know a lot about lies, would you?” I snap, jerking away from his grip. “Yuri didn’t lie to me. His father lied to him and tried to kill him, and I’m not leaving here without him. Go ahead without me if you want.”
“You know I can’t do that,” he says, shoulders sagging. “Please. We’ll get out of here and call the police. We’ll send someone to look for your friend.”
I shake my head. “He could be dead by then. I’m going to look for him now.”
My dad looks over his shoulder like he’s contemplating making a break for it and leaving me behind, but when he looks back at me, I see the resignation in his eyes. He thinks we’re going to die down here, and he’s choosing that—he’s choosing me—over his escape.
“Lead the way, Bella.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bella
From the outside, the building was an abandoned dentist’s office, but the basement underneath is a sprawling maze of hallways and rooms that stretches far beyond the walls of the office upstairs. Ivan must have expanded the basement and built onto it, because it’s a full-blown compound.
“Do you know where you’re going?” my dad asks, sounding more nervous than he did a few minutes before.
I don’t want to tell him the truth that I’m so turned around we could be headed to the roof, but I also don’t want to outright lie to him. “I think we’re getting close.”
“To what?” he asks, looking over his shoulder down the hallway to make sure we aren’t being followed.
This time, I decide not to answer at all. It’s easier that way.
The hallways are all empty, and I assume it’s because Ivan had all of his men gathered in one room for his showdown with Yuri. He really does enjoy a dramatic moment, and lucky for us. It makes it a bit easier to roam aimlessly around the hallways looking for Yuri when there aren’t Society members milling around.
I stop at every corner, peering around with my gun held upright close to my chest, ready to aim and fire should the need arise, and then we run. I glance in open rooms as we pass and press my ear to closed doors, but I don’t hear or see anything. Part of me wonders if everyone hasn’t vacated the premises. They locked up me, my father, and Yuri, so maybe they called it quits for the day. Maybe they put in a good eight hours and went home to sleep, leaving the keeping of the prisoners to the fat guard I incapacitated with a plastic pitcher. Possible, but unlikely.
When we reach the end of another hallway and are faced with yet another fork in the path, my father grabs my arm and pulls me back against the wall. “Bella, we have to go.”
“We already discussed this,” I say, leaving no room for interpretation. “You can leave if you want, but I’m going to find Yuri.”
He grits his teeth and squeezes my arm harder. “Every second we spend down here is a risk. You just met this man a few days ago. He’s a criminal who has devoted his life to this level of danger. He earned this kind of violent end for himself, but you haven’t. You are good. Are you really willing to die for someone like him?”
The question is meant to wake me up, to show me the foolishness of my actions, but instead, it feels like a revelation.
Yes, I just met Yuri a few days ago. And yes, our relationship has been complicated. But in the last few days, he has helped me realize how strong I am, how capable I am. Not only that, but he has been vulnerable with me, allowing me to see the softer sides of him, and I like what I’ve seen. Yuri Petrov is unlike any man I’ve ever met before, and I’m not going to let him die in a basement beneath a dentist’s office at the hands of his backstabbing father. Not a chance.
I wrench my arm from my father’s grip and stand tall, chin lifted high. “Yes, I am. He would die for me in a heartbeat, and I’m glad to do the same for him.”
My father’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “Bella, please. Come with me.”
I touch my father’s stubbled cheek for a second and then let my hand fall. “I won’t blame you if you leave. But if you’re going to keep going with me, then you have to respect my choice. I’m not going to have this conversation again.”
My dad looks at me like he doesn’t recognize me. He steps back, looks me up and down quickly, and then nods. “I’m not leaving you, but you should know, I’m not here for him. I’m here for you.”
“I know,” I say, smiling up at him, wondering if it’s the last time I’ll ever get to do it.
Before I can dwell too long on the emotional moment, a muffled shout and pounding footsteps echo from the right side of the hallway. I look up at my father, eyes wide, and then turn and sprint in the direction of the noise. I hear my father keeping pace behind me, but all I can focus on is the grunting and thumping growing louder with every step. There’s a fight going on, and I know it’s Yuri.
A door on the left side of the hallway is ajar, and through it, I can see several men in black shirts like uniforms standing in a semicircle, jostling from one foot to another, fists up and ready. I shift to the left and see who they’re facing—Yuri. He’s shirtless and bloodied, bruises blooming across his arms and chest like paint dripped into a cup of clear water.
“Take him down,” one of The Society men yells from the sidelines. “The boss said we could leave once he was taken care of.”
“Easier said than done,” a bald man facing Yuri says. His lip is swollen, a bruise forming around his left eye, and I can see blood dripping from his knuckles. Apparently, Yuri is putting up a good fight.
“There are too many of them.” My father’s harsh whisper makes me jump, and I step away from the door and lean against the wall.
“But I have a gun,” I say, waving the gun between us. “I can take them down before they know what hit them.”
My father shakes his head. “They might have guns, too.”
I shrug. “They might.”
“Bella,” he moans. “Please. Don’t make me watch you get killed. Don’t make that be the last thing I see. Give me the gun, and I’ll go in there while you wait out here. Please.”
I appreciate the sincerity of his offer, but not what it implies—that I’m weak and helpless, that I need to be taken care of. I grip the gun even tighter and shake my head. “No. I’m going in there. Besides, I’m the only one between the two of us who has any experience firing a weapon.”
He narrows his eyes. “When have you fired a gun?”
“Matt showed me.”
“My secret security?” he asks, appalled.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s so fired.”
“If we get out of here, you might want to give him a raise,” I suggest, elbowing him in the stomach. Then I take a deep breath. “You ready?”
He leans around, peeking through the doorway. “You fire at the three men fighting Yuri, and I’ll go for the two men watching on the right.”
It’s a weak plan, but better than walking in guns blazing. So, I nod, and then bob my head once, twice, three times. As soon as I kick the door in, I aim and fire at the bald man. The shot hits him in the chest before he can even shout in surprise, and he drops like the strings holding him up were cut.
Yuri snaps his attention to the door, and the moment he sees me, his flagging energy seems to rebound. He stands taller and throws two quick jabs at a dark-haired man wearing a chain. The man stumbles backwards, clutching his jaw, and I shoot him in the stomach. Blood leaks across his gray shirt, and when he falls to his knees, Yuri kicks him in the face.
Now that he’s fighting one-on-one, I know Yuri can handle himself, so I turn my attention to where my dad is flailing his limbs to fight off two Society members in the corner. They are landing hits occasionally, but my dad, who no one would describe as an athlete, is basically gyrating, making it difficult to hit him. He swings his arms like a propeller and knocks one of the men across the face with his gold watch. When the man ducks down to avoid getting hit again, I see him reach for his hip and realize he has a gun. Before he can pull it, I fire and hit him in the leg. He buckles while his friend dives away to avoid being shot too.
I wag the gun between my dad and the downed man. “Grab his gun!”
I turn back and see that Yuri has the last man in a headlock and is raining blow after blow after blow to his abdomen. The man is trying to fight back, but he can’t seem to get a good grip on Yuri. I lift my gun, but quickly realize there’s nowhere to shoot that won’t also hit Yuri. So, I step back to wait for my moment. And then an arm wraps around my neck.
The final Society member, the one who dove away. I was too distracted between my father and Yuri to think about him once he was out of my range of vision, and now I’ve screwed everything up.
“Drop your gun,” he sneers, his breath hot and acidic on my neck.
I hesitate, trying to figure out if there’s a way I can spin out of his grip and shoot him without breaking my neck. Then, his arm tightens around me, and he reaches down and yanks the gun from my hand.
I sag against him. The fight is over. Just like before. As soon as Yuri sees that I’m being held at gunpoint, he’ll stop fighting to keep me alive. He’ll let himself be captured, my father and I will be thrown back in a cell if we aren’t killed immediately for being such a nuisance, and then any hope of escape will be gone. I screwed everything up.
I close my eyes, letting a wave of exhaustion wash over me. Maybe dying won’t be so bad. It has to be better than this endless fighting and scraping to survive.
“Enough,” the man yells in my ear. He holds the gun up, but doesn’t point it at me. He points it at Yuri. “Let him go and step away, Yuri.”
Yuri spins around, and as soon as he sees the man’s arm around my neck, he backs away just like I expected him to. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Don’t hurt her. I’m done. Don’t hurt her.”
The man points the gun at Yuri. “Your father told us to beat you to death, but given the circumstances, I’m sure he won’t mind if I end things this way.”
I thrash in his arms, hoping to distract him, to throw his aim off so he misses, but the mountain of a man barely feels my struggle. He just smiles. “Final words?”
And despite the fact that he’s seconds away from death, Yuri smiles. “Drop the gun.”
The man scoffs. “And why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you.”
The voice is my father’s coming from behind us, and suddenly I hear the bullet sliding into the chamber and remember he took the gun from the other society member.
“Drop the weapon,” he repeats, emphasizing each word. “Or I will kill you.”
Slowly, the man untangles his arm from around my neck and bends down to place the gun on the floor. He lifts his arms, and I can see the sweat gathering in his armpits and along his forehead. He takes slow, careful steps.
“Okay. Don’t shoot. I won’t hurt her. I won’t hurt any—”
The shot echoes through the room, and the man falls face forward onto the cement floor, blood pooling from the hole in his head.
I spin around and see my father holding the weapon. His face is pale white, but his expression is stony and set. When he looks at me, he shrugs. “I never told him what I’d do if he did let you go. He should have asked.”
Yuri kicks out at the man he was fighting before I was taken. The man is still on the floor, clutching his stomach from the beating, and it only takes two blows to the head for his eyes to roll back and him to collapse completely to the floor.
I grab the gun from the floor and run to Yuri. He takes a step towards me, but it’s a limp.
“Are you okay?” I ask, grabbing his face, turning his head from side to side. He’s bruised and cut and swollen, but he’s still Yuri. He’s still alive. Before he can answer, I pull him down to me and gently kiss his lips.
Yuri wraps a hand around my waist and clings to me, partly out of desire and partly because I think he needs the help to stay standing. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth for a moment and then pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I smile up at him. “You answer first.”
His eyes flutter closed, and he nuzzles into me. “Never better.”
I know what he means. Not knowing whether he was alive or dead had me going crazy. Just seeing him in front of me, breathing and talking, feels like the entire world has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel like I can inhale for the first time in hours.
But we aren’t done yet.
“What about your dad?” I ask softly, leaning away while keeping my arms around his waist. “Where is he?”
Yuri’s face darkens. His eyes narrow. “I don’t have a dad anymore. The man I thought was my father is gone. I’m on my own now.”
“But he’s still alive?” I ask.
Yuri nods. “Not for long.”
I understand his anger. He has the same drive to kill his father as I did to find him, but now I see my father’s point of view, too. I just want to get out of here.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea, Yuri? Wouldn’t it be better to talk to your brothers and explain everything to them? You could all face him together.”
“No,” he barks. Then, he tips his head to the side and gives me an apologetic smile. “I have to see this through. I have to.”
“I get it,” I say, squeezing his hand. “I do.”
He grabs my fingers and kisses the back of my hand. “But you should go. Both of you.”
He looks over my shoulder at my dad, and I hear my dad walking towards me, ready to grab me the way he did in the hallway. Ready to haul me away and out of danger.
I pivot so I can see both of them—the two men who love me—and I shake my head. “I’m not leaving.”
“Bella,” my dad argues, lowering his head to plead with me.
“I’m not going,” I say again. “Not until we all leave together.”
My dad opens his mouth to argue, but Yuri nods. “Okay.”
I could kiss him again. Because no matter how much my dad loves me, he thinks he knows what is best for me. He sees me as the little girl who needs guidance. But Yuri trusts me. He respects my opinion, and he knows that I will fight for what I want.
“There isn’t time to argue, and I know it won’t make a difference anyway,” Yuri says. “So, let’s go.”
Outvoted, my dad closes his mouth in a tight line and follows us out of the room and
into the hallway. He follows behind us silently until we stop in front of Ivan’s office door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Yuri
I know it would be better to stop and formulate a plan, but knowing my father is sitting behind the door in front of me makes it impossible not to kick it down. The door rattles on the hinges as it bounces off the wall, and still my father doesn’t move. He’s sitting behind his desk, a fake smile plastered on his face, with his hands folded on the desk in front of him. In the exact same position he always takes when meeting a client or waiting for someone to walk in. It’s the posture he uses to intimidate people.
But I will not be intimidated.
“I knew you would fight your way out,” he says, beaming at me.
I can’t understand how I didn’t see it before. The paper-thin smile. The forced light behind his eyes. Everything about him is curated and false. Even his love for me.
“You knew I would defeat five of your strongest men?” I ask.
He shrugs and turns slightly in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He wants me to know he isn’t nervous. He wants me to see how casual he feels in my presence, how unthreatened. “I taught you to fight, didn’t I? I had faith my teachings would serve you well, and now that they did, I know you are ready to lead both groups. Ready to pick up my mantle when I’m ready to put it down.”
He’s lying. I know that, but Bella steps up behind me and touches my back. She’s reminded me of what is at stake, and I’m grateful for it. I reach around and grab her hand. My father follows my movement.
“I see you brought the sacrifice and the pussy.” He pulls his top lip back in a snarl and looks at Senator McNair. “I’ll let you decide who is who.”
I drop Bella’s hand and step forward, gun aimed straight at his heart. “Don’t talk about her that way.”
