Away with You (The Revenge Series Book 2)

by M. S. Brannon

  Planting my body against the side of the building, I round the corner to the alley and put my back flush with the wall. It’s dingy, but it does fine for covering my moves.

  As I make my way down, I round the dumpster and hold my breath as the garbage stench floods my nostrils. Then I fall back in formation, plastering my back to the brick wall again. I can hear rustling in my ear as Josslyn gets searched, but it appears she is in the clear as the men are excused from Vlad’s presence.

  Excellent work, Josslyn.

  I’m impressed. She’s managed to get him alone without my guidance.

  Now it’s time for me to make my grand entrance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Josslyn

  August 12, 2015 11:08 p.m.

  Like trained monkeys, the guards walk from the room as Vlad ushers me deeper into the space. There is one table tucked in the back corner with candle lighting and elegant linens. Adjacent to the table is a sitting area with plush modern couches wrapped in white leather, chairs that match, and a glass table in the center. This is where he takes me.

  I look around for the private restroom, but the when Nikolai says nothing more in my ear, I stay where I’m.

  I hold his hand as he guides me to the couch then sits far too closely for comfort. But I don’t recoil away; I want him here. It will make it easier for me to kill him.

  “You are so beautiful and oddly familiar in some way. But I can’t put my finger on it,” he says as he places a drink in front of me. “Those eyes are like ones I have seen before.”

  Vlad lifts his finger and traces it over my jaw, just as Nikolai did earlier. However, my reaction to him is completely different. I barely contain the disgust I have for him with every breath I take.

  Before I can speak, I take a moment to listen to what is happening in my ear. I can hear scuffling and grunts from Nikolai. I envision him punching and kicking his way to me. He is storming his way in here. It’s time to make our move so we can get this fucker, but it will be me who kills him. After everything, I’m certain I deserve it.

  “People say I have my father’s eyes,” I tell him, preparing my body for the destruction of this asshole. “I wonder if you know him.”

  Vlad smiles and looks at me with warmth.

  Nikolai will be in here soon. I will tell him whose eyes he is gazing into, and then I will happily take his life.

  I smile back, knowing I will reveal myself then watch him die. “Detective Randal Stowe.”

  The bomb is dropped.

  I hear a grunt in my ear and then a louder pop. I stand from the couch and yelp just as the name of my dead father snaps Vlad back to his past. His eyes darken, and his body goes hard.

  My blood runs cold, not knowing what happened to Nikolai. The sounds are all gone. There’s nothing.

  Vlad wastes no time before grabbing my arms and yanking me to his body.

  “What did you say, bitch?” His breath is hot on my cheeks, and his cologne is nauseating, but I manage to keep it at bay. This is not how I wanted this to go. I was going to tell him my father’s name; Nikolai would storm the fort; we would get the information we need; and then I would kill him. However, Nikolai might be no longer alive.

  I shake my doubt and square up to him as best as I can. I harden my body, clench my fists, and get ready for the fight of my life. I don’t know if Nikolai will come in and save me, but I don’t need him to. I can handle this asshole myself. He’s is going to die regardless if we get the information we need or not.

  “Randal. Stowe.” My voice is low and filled with venom.

  He releases my arm and a hard crack connects with my cheek. I stumble back, but his other hand on my arm keeps me from falling backward. Taking my clenched fist and jerking it upward, I give him an uppercut to his jaw. Vlad is stunned and toggles back on his heels, letting go of me completely. I don’t wait. I go on the offensive and lunge toward him.

  He falls in the white leather chair, shocked and discombobulated. My fists are balled lead as I plow them into his face, destroying the snarky grin he gave me when we met. One after the other, I punch him until blood is leaking from his nose.

  Vlad manages to get ahold of my waist and pushes me off his body like a rag doll. I go flying backward and right through the glass coffee table. The shards slice through my dress, cutting my skin in tiny slits. The pain is immense, but I don’t stay there long.

  Vlad yanks me up by my neck. My throat fits perfectly in his large, meaty hands. He squeezes, and I can feel my life slipping with every clench. My feet are raised from the floor. My fists weaken with every second as I pound them into his arm.

  I look once more at my enemy. Blood covers his face, trickling down from his nose and mouth. He is smiling, getting pleasure from me dying at his hands.

  I mentally take a step back and think about what Nikolai would do. How would he get out of this situation? Because I know he could.

  I let the air expand from my lungs and clear my mind. I erase all my thoughts of revenge, murderer, and justice to search for a way out.

  My legs are loose, and before I can think of another way to use them, I wrench my knee up and connect it with his groin. Vlad grunts out in agony and falls back to the leather chair, dropping me. I quickly turn, stumbling to get away from him long enough to find a weapon of some sort. He’s not down for long.

  My ankle is snagged in his grip, preventing me from moving. I thrash my legs, trying to break free and fighting with the shards of glass on the ground.

  I search for something, anything I can use as a weapon, and then the black piece of iron comes into view. It’s a table leg, broken off by my fall. The end is jagged, but it’s tough enough to get him off me. I scurry to grab the metal. It seems like it’s feet away when, in reality, it’s only a couple of inches.

  While my body keeps getting wrenched back, closing the gap between Vlad and myself, I keep thrashing my legs as I reach with everything I have to get this object.

  I think for a second about whom I’m fighting against, whom I’m trying to destroy. It unearths this unforeseen power inside of me, accelerating through my body at a rapid speed, giving me the untapped strength to reach the metal table leg.

  I surge forward, grabbing the weapon and twisting sharply. My swing is fierce, the object swooping around with velocity.

  Vlad’s head vibrates and his head explodes open. The blood sprays everywhere, covering my naked chest, arms, and face. He falls backward, immobile and barely clinging to life.

  I manage to make it to my feet, teetering on one heel and catching my breath. I adjust my dress, covering the parts that got loose, and look down. I’m standing over this man’s body and feeling a sense of joy. He’s still alive, though barely, and I will be here when his final breath is taken.

  Moments later, the back room opens up, and men storm inside, guns drawn. I’m a dead woman.

  I’m standing at the feet of their dying boss, weapon in hand, covered in his blood.

  “Freeze!” one man shouts as four men come closer. “Drop it!”

  I let go of the table leg, and it clunks down on the shards of glass under my feet. I can’t feel pain right now. I only feel peace knowing this man will suffer and die, just as my father did. Just as my mother did when she had to cope with the aftermath of his actions. Just the way I did.

  My hands are out at my sides, clear for the men to see. There is no way I can get out of this one. I don’t have a gun and four men are too many.

  A man falls to Vlad’s side, the same one who opened the door for me when I arrived. His eyes glisten with water, heartbroken at the knowledge his boss is about to die or may never fully recover from the blow to his head.

  He then stands. His gun is pulled and pointed at my skull. I freeze. I don’t breath. I don’t blink. I don’t think. I do nothing. I just wait for the bullet to connect with my brain.

  I close my eyes and drift off to a place of peace and happiness. I think about the week spent at Holly’s house when I
was a kid. I think about my mother and father, the nights spent around the kitchen table, talking about our day or playing a board game. I think about Gabe and his arms wrapped around me, fending off the terrors of my past. I miss his comfort. I miss him.

  Then I think about Nikolai. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead. The last sound I heard was a pop. It could have been a gun shot. I just don’t know. I hope he’s okay, or if he’s dead, I hope he didn’t suffer. He doesn’t deserve that. He’s suffered enough in his life. I feel his hands on my body, his lips pressed to mine, and I find solace in my final seconds on earth from the kiss he gave me.

  “Josslyn.”

  I snap my eyes open and look into his icy blues. His face is covered in blood, his white shirt splattered with red.

  The air returns to my lungs as I glance around at the aftermath of his entrance. Four men down. Four men dead. I don’t think; I only react, wrapping my arms around him and holding him to my body.

  Nikolai freezes. He doesn’t return the embrace, but he doesn’t move, either. He lets me hold him and reassure myself that he is alive.

  The peaceful moment only lasts a second before Nikolai drops to the floor and inspects Vlad. He then snaps up in a furious rage and clutches my arm in his hand. “What the fuck happened?”

  “I killed him,” I say matter-of-factly.

  “You did what?” he shouts in my face, squeezing my arms until the pain is too great. “I can’t believe you’d do that. How fucking stupid could you be?”

  Nikolai lights a fuse when he degrades my intelligence. My body sweats and my face heats. If it weren’t for the hold on my arms, I would have punched him by now.

  I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. Instead, I’m pushed back to the couch as Nikolai spins on his heels, firing his gun.

  Without a single word, I examine the dead men on the floor then find a weapon nearby. I pick up the pistol and follow Nikolai’s lead as we make our way out of the restaurant, dodging a veil of bullets as we go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Nikolai

  August 12, 2015 11:20 p.m.

  The guards surrounding the building didn’t surprise me, but the man with the martial art talent did. I didn’t see him hidden in the alcove of the back alley, but when he came out, my gun fired, and then we were fighting vigorously.

  When I made my way inside, I could see the man about to kill Josslyn while she just stood there with her eyes closed. Her face was at peace, ready to die. I wondered briefly what she was thinking about, which became moot when his finger was about to squeeze the trigger. I fired a shot at him, aimed right for his skull, dropping him dead. I killed the three other men afterward in quick succession.

  Now we are firing our way out. The sound of glass and bullets takes over the stillness of the air as all hell breaks loose. My trained ears can hear the sound of footsteps.

  I push Josslyn down, protecting her from stray bullets, and twist my body. I fire my gun as I turn, dropping the first two men to the floor. I quickly release my clip and pull another one from my pocket before the next wave comes through the door.

  Standing beside me, Josslyn has a gun and is ready to fire when the first asshole makes his way through.

  The men flood in, more than ten, all firing. I pick off the first one, but he’s soon replaced by the one behind him. Another steps to the side, pulling out an uzi. A wall of bullets flies at us, and I react.

  “Move!” I shout, pushing her to the side. We both fall to the floor.

  Josslyn crawls down on her hands and knees toward the bar located in the corner. The man releases his clip, giving us a split second to get protection. I make it to my feet and yank Josslyn up by her neck. She stumbles to her feet just as the clip is secured in his gun, and we dive for the cover of the bar.

  We slide over the top, knocking down glasses and bottles, then plummet to the floor. I land with a thud and practically fall on top of Josslyn. She pulls her clip out of her gun and looks at the bullets left inside.

  “Seven,” she says through rapid breaths.

  The gun spray commences again, and I dive on top of her to protect her from stray bullets. The bottles of liquor rain their contents down on us as we lie in a heap, waiting for the man to stop firing at us.

  A stray bullet lands in my shoulder. The shard pierces my skin and ignites in a blinding heat. I groan and roll to the side. Josslyn lands on top of me and pulls open my jacket.

  “Get off!” I shout, knowing we don’t have time to assess my wound. I have been injured worse than this. I will be able to keep going.

  The gun fire ceases, and Josslyn, thinking like me, rises up with me, and we fire our weapons. She has an accurate shot as she lands her bullet in the skull of a guy. I make my way out from behind the bar and motion for her to follow. There is one way out where we won’t get noticed.

  We rush to the door, stepping over men in the process, and find our way down the back stairs. I know it won’t be long before more flunkies are on their way or the police. We need to get the hell out and fast.

  We rush down the fire escape stairs and down the dingy alley. She keeps up with me, remaining by my side, as we escape into the night.

  I round the corner and find my car parked in the parking lot across from the alley entrance. Crossing the street, we head for the car and fall inside. I quickly rip out of the parking lot, leaving tracks behind.

  She is breathing deeply, coming down from her adrenaline, as we fly down the streets of Nob Hill. The night is dark and quiet, but the pounding anger in my skull is ringing loudly as I drive away from the hotel and head toward the outskirts of town.

  We have been driving for thirty minutes before I can no longer take it. I pull over in a housing development, open the door to my car, and pace. I need to walk off the pain in my shoulder and the anger in my veins. I’m furious with her. I want to kill her myself.

  “What are we doing?” Josslyn shouts in my direction as she slams the car door behind her.

  “Don’t,” I warn, giving her my darkest tone yet.

  “Don’t what? We need to get off the streets. Look at us!” She is in her police mode right now, and she’s right.

  We are both covered in blood. Her dress is shredded, and every inch of her exposed skin is scratched. My white shirt is splattered with blood, and I can feel the blood leaking from the wound in my shoulder.

  I storm back over to her, ready to rip her head off her shoulders, and shout, “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “What, Vlad? He was going to kill me; what else was I supposed to do?”

  “I heard what you did, Josslyn. You revealed your identity, and because of that, he wanted to kill you. If you had kept your mouth shut, he wouldn’t have known, and I could have taken over. That was all you were suppose to do! Stupidest move yet!”

  “I will warn you once: if you call me stupid one more time …” she threatens, but it does nothing to me. Josslyn pauses for moment then continues, “We will just move on and keep looking.”

  “Keep looking? He was it, Josslyn! He was the one chance to find Stravinsky!”

  “Stravinsky?”

  “Yes, Ademar Stravinsky. He is the man who killed your father and the man who controls it all. The mastermind!” I walk over to her and get as close as I can to her face. I want her to understand the severity of what she has done. I want her to know how she royally fucked us. “He was my mentor, my boss, and I loved him until he ordered that hit on me and my family. This is the man we are looking for—the elusive Ademar Stravinsky!”

  The realization hit her the second time I mentioned his name. He is known in the criminal underworld, but to outsiders, he is more ghost than reality. There are stories of Stravinsky, but nothing concrete. Over time, he became a fable, a legend of sorts.

  “How dangerous will it be to get to him?” Her voice trails off as she finishes her question.

  “Imagine the worst kind of situation and then multiply that by a million. That�
�s what we are up against. He’ll be heavily guarded behind the walls of his fortress. He is never without bodyguards, and he’ll be nearly impossible to get to. Ademar Stravinsky, the Russian Mafia, the leader of the entire Vory V Zakone—he’s the man I need to kill. But you’ve made that next to impossible now. You killed the one man who could lead us to his whereabouts. That is why you’re stupid!”

  Her eyes flash in rage before she attacks me. Her fist comes swinging from the right, but I quickly snatch it in my grasp. She gives me a lethal glare and tries to pull her knee up to hit me in the balls, but I’m not falling for that one again.

  I flip her around and push her down onto the hood of my car. Her chest connects with the top of it, her body bent over, ass posed perfectly.

  Josslyn pushes back, her ass connecting with my dick, and it hardens immediately. I release a groan from deep inside then flip her back around.

  She pulls her hand up and slaps me across the face. This one got through, but it does nothing to suppress the urge I have to slam my dick deep inside of her. Her eyes liquefy and her body melts into the hood.

  “Get the fuck away from me.” Her voice is low and cold, but the heat in her eyes tells me otherwise.

  I think about the pact I made with myself, vowing not to have sex until Stravinsky is dead. It has been eight fucking years since I felt a woman from the inside, and with Josslyn’s body so eager, I can no longer tame the animal.

  I say nothing when I push her down on the hood of my car. Her legs splay open, and I know her words are just that … words. She wants me to ravage her, and lucky for her, I can no longer keep it at bay.

  I inch her dress up her body, grazing the soft skin of her inner thighs. I find my way to the apex of her thighs with its lacy barrier—the promise land. I wrap my fingers around her panties and jerk my arm back, ripping them from her body. She remains frozen, but only for a moment. Then Josslyn leans up and jerks my belt open.

  With scrambling hands, she unfastens my pants and frees my dick. I jerk her down the hood of my car, pulling the straps of her dress down, freeing her breast. Before I slam into her, I connect my lips with her nipples and clamp down. A sound of unadulterated pleasure squeaks out of her, and her back arches up, pushing her breast deeper into my mouth. I welcome the invitation, tugging and teasing her bud with my teeth. I’m a savage beast. All I can think about is sinking my dick so deeply and so hard into her flesh it will practically break her in half.