Dark Chase (The Gunrunner Series)

by Miranda Kavi

  Zeek crouched between the car doors. “Go. I’ll cover you.”

  He unleashed a round of bullets in the direction the shots were coming from. Sophia didn’t think. She didn’t have to time to. She just ran. Ran like mad until she was inside the house.

  It was dark. Not a single light was on. She paused in the entry way. A faint, male groan reached her ears.

  She ran toward it and stumbled over something warm and soft in kitchen. She flicked on the light. Gram was lying on the floor, clutching his stomach, his skin a sickly green. Sweat coated his body, soaking through his clothes.

  “Gram!” she shrieked.

  She crouched next to him, patting his cheek. “Can you hear me? Gram?” She pushed her fingers into his neck, relieved to feel a steady, weak pulse.

  “Naomi, she—” he whispered, licking his lips.

  “Shhhh… Just rest. I know. Let me get help,” Sophia said. Her heart raced.

  “No,” he mumbled. “No time. Get Dmitri. He is asleep. She went up there after him.” He clutched his stomach and moaned. “My gun. In my boot. Go.”

  “Oh, God.” Sophia pressed her hand to his forehead, tears running down her face. “What did she do to you?”

  “Go,” he said. “Save him.”

  She reached into his boot, extracted the small holster, and removed the gun. It was a subcompact semi-auto. She knew how to use it, thank God.

  “I’ll come back for you.” Their eyes met, and she saw anguish in his; it was so bad it made her want to crawl into a dark cave. He knew he might not have enough time. He was making the choice for her. He’d been betrayed by the woman he loved. It would be the worst way to die.

  But she had to leave his side, so she did.

  She held the gun with both hands in front of her, leading with it when she walked. She made her way out of the kitchen and towards the main entry of the home. She swung it left and right in the cavernous open space of the entry before she stepped out into the open. Gunfire still echoed outside, which meant Zeek and Dan were occupied.

  She kicked off her shoes and then climbed the staircase, careful to make sure her steps didn’t make a sound. Her heart raged in her chest, her head pounding with every beat. She had to save him. Somehow, she had to save him.

  She made it to the third floor. She looked left and right, not seeing anything in the unlit hallways. She crept down the hall towards the private sanctum that she and Dmitri had shared.

  When she got closer, she could see the door was open.

  Oh, fuck. She sprinted towards it, all thoughts of being quiet gone.

  She ran into the room and screeched to a halt.

  A petite figure was crouching over a sleeping Dmitri, a gun aimed squarely at his head. She swung it towards Sophia as she stumbled loudly into the room.

  Sophia didn’t hesitate. She pulled the trigger.

  The boom filled the room with light and sound and then all was quiet. The faint smell of gunpowder reached her nose.

  Dmitri sat up in bed. “What the fuck?” he roared.

  Sophia turned on the light. Her aim was horrible, but at least she’d hit Naomi. She was on her knees, clutching her shoulder, silent in her pain. The gun she had just pointed at Dmitri had fallen from her grasp.

  Dmitri eyes swung from Sophia’s smoking gun then over to Naomi. Understanding filled his face. He pounced out of bed and swiped the gun away from Naomi.

  Rage filled his eyes. He pistol-whipped Naomi’s head with the gun, sending her flying back with a loud thwack.

  She screamed and writhed on the floor. Dmitri stood over her, pointing the gun she’d almost used to kill him back at her. “What the fuck are you doing? Who sent you here?”

  He glanced at Sophia.

  “No one sent her. She sent herself. She’s been the driving force behind all this,” Sophia said in a strong, clear voice.

  “Is this true?” Dmitri said.

  “No!” Naomi clutched her head. “I was set up for this. My father made me do this. He said he would kill me if I didn’t. You have to help me!”

  “That’s not true,” Sophia said. “She’s working with the S-Triangle and others. She’s plotting her own father’s demise. And yours.”

  “No!” Naomi said. She wrapped her hands around herself, tears flowing down her blood soaked, pretty face. “He made me. I didn’t do those things. I’m trying to save Gram.”

  “You used Gram,” Dmitri said.

  “She poisoned him. He’s dying right now.” Sophia moved into the room, closer to Dmitri. “He needs help.”

  “You poisoned my brother?” His voice was quiet, but his veins popped from his neck and forehead. Sophia almost cowered from his seething rage.

  “Please. You have to believe me. I was supposed to kill him, but I only sedated him. I couldn’t bear to hurt him. You have to believe me. I love Gram. I love Gram more than anything in the world.”

  Sophia saw the conflict on Dmitri’s face. He lowered his gun slightly. He glanced at Sophia.

  Sophia was mad. Angry. Rage made her blind. Her body moved on its own fruition. She stalked over to Naomi, grabbed a handful of her hair, and pulled it back. “Tell the fucking truth, or so help me God, I will blow your fucking brains out.”

  Naomi’s lip trembled, eyes widened. “Okay, okay.”

  Sophia let go of her hair.

  “Yes. I funded the attacks against your interests. I’ve been siphoning funds from Dad for years. I’ve made alliances with our enemies. Dad’s weak. Fumbling. I had to take over or it all would have fallen apart.” Her eyes flicked to Dmitri. “I really did care for Gram. I love him. I do. More than anything.”

  Sophia saw the lie in her eyes, saw it bloom on her lips. The woman had tried to kill Dmitri, had probably killed Gram.

  She pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 22

  In a split second, she became a killer. She hadn’t decided to be a killer. She didn’t even know she had it in her. It was a simple act, the most simple in the world. A little squeeze of the trigger finger and a woman was dead.

  Naomi was no more, just a piece of bloody flesh lying on the floor.

  She was gone. There would be no inquisition. No jury. No judge. No sentence. Just death.

  Dmitri covered her trembling hands with his, guiding her to lower the firearm. She’d still had it pointed at the lifeless body. “My love,” he whispered. “I would have done that for you.”

  She put the gun down on the floor and then slid into his arms. He enveloped her. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Dmitri.”

  He leaned back, looking in her eyes. “You saved my life. You…did that. For me.” He grabbed her hand, pressing it against his bare chest. “My love. I will never forget.” His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that she’d never seen before. Her skin burned against him, his outpouring of raw emotion filling her up like a balloon. The intensity ratcheted up between them. Whatever was flowing between them was more than love. It was something else entirely. Something transcendent. A bond that could never be broken.

  Two loud knocks on the door proceeded Zeek's entry. His eyes took in their embrace and the body on the floor.

  She tore her gaze away from Dmitri. She didn’t want the connection to end, whatever it was.

  Zeek cleared his throat and then spoke, “We took out her men. She had ten out in the woods. Back up is here. Gram is being transported to a hospital.”

  Dmitri was still watching Sophia. “Thank you for the update.”

  Zeek glanced at Naomi’s body. “I’ll take care of that.” He looked at them and then left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Dmitri lifted her chin, assessing her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she answered, meeting his gaze.

  “Are you really all right, my dearest Sophia? It is most understandable if you are not.” He gently stroked her face with his thumb.

  “I am,” she said.

  He covered her lips with his, a sweet, quick kiss. He pulled aw
ay, running his fingers through her hair. “Gram needs us.”

  Dmitri quickly put on his clothes and shoes. Sophia waited, praying for Gram. Praying for his life. Praying that whatever Naomi did could be undone. They drove to the hospital in silence, hands entwined.

  Dmitri rubbed his jaw, the only outward sign of his distress, as they met with the doctors. Sophia cried openly.

  Gram had seizures and was on benzodiazepines to stop them. He was on a ventilator and his GI system was being flushed to rid his system of any toxins. They wouldn’t know the specific toxin until they received the test results.

  The doctors let Dmitri back to see him while Sophia waited in the cramped, dingy hallways. She could see through the window into his small, shared room. She watched Dmitri pull up a chair next to his brother. He put his face in his hands, rocking slowly back and forth.

  She wanted to run to him, to comfort him, to whisper in his ear that Gram would be fine, but she didn’t know if he would.

  Gram was so pale in the bed, his chest rising and falling only with the machine that was keeping him alive.

  Gram couldn’t die. He couldn’t go out like this: betrayed by a woman he loved and then left for dead.

  Her fingers clenched, and she had a brazen feeling. She fought it at first but then let it wash over her. She was glad Naomi was dead. She was glad she was the one who’d done it. Dmitri should never be saddled with killing his brother’s treacherous lover.

  Dmitri stayed by Gram’s side, resting his head on the hospital bed. Sophia curled herself up on a bench in the hallway, using her purse as a pillow. Dmitri wouldn’t leave Gram’s side, and she wouldn’t leave Dmitri.

  Her eyes drifted closed, somehow sleep finding her despite the bright, fluorescent lights, antiseptic smells, and announcements over the intercom.

  ***

  “Sophia?” a male voice intruded on her sleep. The hardness of the bench pressed into her body, and she remembered where she was. She shot to a sitting position. “Yes?”

  Zeek handed her a steaming cup of coffee. “You all right, miss?”

  “Yes.” After she smoothed out her hair, she accepted the coffee. In the bright, artificial light of the hospital, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. “Is it morning?”

  “Yes,” Zeek said. He sat next to her.

  “Gram?”

  He pushed his lips together. “No change.”

  She slowly unfolded herself from the bench. “You’ve been here all night?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He took a sip of his own coffee.

  She moved towards the glass window on the door to Gram’s room and peered inside. Dmitri was asleep, leaned back in a small blue chair right next to Gram’s bed. Gram looked better, she thought. He was still on a ventilator, but she detected a bit of color in his face that wasn’t there before. He looked like he was stepping away from death’s door.

  “You should rest. I’ll be here with him until my replacement comes,” Zeek said.

  She put her hand on the window, staring at her man. “No. I’m staying here. If you could please have someone bring me a change of clothes when they come in, I’d appreciate it.”

  He cleared his throat. “There will be no need for that. Dmitri contacted her while you were sleeping.”

  Sophia followed his gaze. Tatiana was rushing down the hallway, duffel bag in hand, hair still wet.

  “Are you hurt?” She pulled Sophia into a hug.

  “No.” Sophia gave her a quick squeeze.

  Tatiana pulled back and peered through the glass at Gram. She quickly turned away. Her hand floated up to her mouth. “Oh, no. Is he…will he…”

  “We don’t know yet. She poisoned him.” Sophia pressed her lips together to keep from crying again.

  “What an evil cunt.” Tatiana frowned. “That is very fucking cold—to make a man think she loved him, then do this.”

  “Yes, it is.” Sophia turned away from the window too, wanting to give Gram and Dmitri some privacy. “She fooled me. I should have seen it sooner. If I hadn’t left—”

  “Stop that.” Tatiana pulled her arm, forcing her to sit down next to her. “She fooled everyone. Do not think in this way.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sending little drips everywhere. “Dmitri called and explained what happened. I promised him I would take care of you.”

  Sophia took another sip of her coffee, feeling a ray of joy in her heart amongst all the sadness and grief for Gram. He’d thought of her, even in this dark hour. “He is very thoughtful.”

  Tatiana shrugged. “He is growing on me,” she said flatly. “Maybe a little bit, at least.” She smiled. “I knew you would not leave his side, so I brought you some clothes and perfumes and other nice things.” She shoved the duffel bag in Sophia’s direction. “You should change. I will find some place to smoke where I won’t get a damn government fine.”

  Sophia slipped into the bathroom and changed into the clean clothes and underwear Tatiana had brought. She’d grabbed a fuzzy blue sweater and jeans: nice, comfy clothes that would keep her warm in a hospital. She freshened up her deodorant and brushed her teeth.

  When she came out, Dmitri was waiting outside the door, leaning against the wall of the hallway.

  “My love,” he whispered. He held out his hands to her. She walked into him, pressing herself against his broad chest.

  “How is he?” she said.

  “Same,” he answered, pulling her closer. She gripped him tight, wanting to be everything he needed. “You should go. Stay with Tatiana. Get some rest.”

  She rubbed his back. “No. I want to stay with you.”

  He rocked back and forth with her. “Thank you.”

  He pulled away. “I am going to get food. Will you sit with him?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  She slipped into Gram’s room while Dmitri walked away, Zeek in tow. Tatiana had returned from her smoke and settled herself on the hard bench Sophia had slept on.

  Sophia sat down next to Gram. The room was small and dingy, but clean. The bed sheets fresh. Everything looked clean and modern, and for that she was grateful.

  His long hair spilled around his shoulders, his features relaxed. At some angles she could clearly see the resemblance to Dmitri, at others, not at all.

  The silence was oppressive. It made her think. It forced her to internalize. It made her relive the horrors and pleasures she’d been through in recent days. She was lost in her thoughts when he jerked in his bed, his eyelids fluttering open.

  “Gram?” She leaned forward.

  His eyes darted around the room, panic setting in as he took in his surrounding and the ventilator in his mouth. He started struggling against the bed and IVs. “Nurse!” she yelled.

  Sophia ran to the door, throwing it open. “Get a nurse! I need a nurse!”

  Tatiana jumped from the bench she was sitting on and sprinted down the hallway towards the nurses’ station.

  Sophia ran back to Gram’s side, placing a hand on his forehead. “Calm down, Gram. Everything is fine. You are fine. Please.”

  He stopped thrashing, relaxing in her arms. He moved his lips, trying to speak but he couldn’t because of the ventilator. She understood, though.

  “Dmitri is fine. He stepped out. He’ll be right back. He’s been at your side this whole time.”

  Gram nodded, relaxing further into the bed.

  The nurses rushed in, pushing Sophia out of the way. She backed away to give them space while they checked his vitals. His eyes frantically darted around the room. She waved her hands over her head. “I’m still here, Gram!”

  Dmitri rushed into the room, straining to see over the nurses. “What is happening?”

  “He’s awake.”

  Dmitri pushed past the nurses. Gram saw Dmitri and held out his hand, Dmitri grasped it, and the brothers were reunited.

  Tears filled Sophia’s eyes, spilling down her face, dripping on her clothes.

  Chapter 23

  Sophia
stared out the window of the bedroom. From her view on the third floor, she could see into the frozen trees. She could see snow-covered peaks of triangle roofs peeking out from nearby dachas and estates.

  She shivered and pulled her ivory-colored robe closer around her. The marble floor was so damn cold she could still feel it invading her hard-earned warmth through the slippers she wore on her feet.

  She heard movement in the house and knew Dmitri and Gram were probably up. Gram had required a long hospital stay to get the hemlock out of his system and had needed rehab.

  But his mind was sharp, and he had made great progress over the past few months, almost returning to his normal, pre-Naomi self.

  In the ultimate, cosmic joke, Dmitri had bought the ridiculous estate they were all living in now. He said to never let a memory dictate where you live or go, because memories are in your mind not in a physical place, otherwise the whole globe would be haunted for him.

  It made sense.

  She’d killed a woman in this very room and faced it every day. On some days, she felt strange and twisted inside, her mind’s eye recalling the crumpled, bloodied body on the floor. Other days she felt a pang of pride, that she’d killed someone who had threatened her new family. She didn’t know which feeling was right or wrong. She didn’t try to judge it any more. She was past that.

  Dmitri told her the first one was always the hardest and the one you remembered the most. He said it got easier for him, so easy he barely flinched. She’d shuddered at his coldness when he’d said that, and she shuddered now just thinking about it.

  She made her way downstairs. She’d left the décor of the master room alone, even though it was atrocious. It was so obnoxious her and Dmitri laughed about it when they laid in bed and gazed out over the black floor and white animal furs that dotted the room. It had become a private joke, of sorts.

  The rest of the house she’d changed, making it less oppressive. She’d gotten rid of the tacky, massive chandelier in the entry and replaced it with a smaller antique iron one her and Dmitri had chosen. She’d softened things up, adding overstuffed, comfy furniture to the sitting room and filling it with antiques she’d found in St. Petersburg.