Bound to the Beast: Russian Hitman Romance (18 page)

When Chris seemed satisfied that it was only us, he reached out and grabbed me by the upper arms. I winced at his grip, his fingers digging in slightly to my flesh. He jerked me inside. Tyler was there a second later and then the door was closed behind the both of us. Chris released me with a shove. I half stumbled, half fell onto the bed, surprised by the sudden release, my eyes wide.

“Chris, what’s—?”

But he wasn’t listening. Interrupting, he demanded, “What the hell are you doing here?”

His eyes were flashing, almost menacing, and for a second I thought I was completely wrong. This wasn’t my brother. This wasn’t the boy I’d grown up with. In fact, this was a complete and total stranger standing right in front of me. I felt tears prick behind my eyes at the thought, but I pushed them aside. I had to focus.

“We… we ran away,” I told him, glancing over at Tyler. “Because of… of Alexei. You know, the guy who—”

But I didn’t have to explain. Chris paled the moment I mentioned Alexei’s name, telling me he knew exactly who was after him. I frowned. How did Chris even know Alexei’s name? And why was he so
angry
?

“Shit,” Chris cursed, threading his hands through his hair and gripping it so tightly I was worried they’d pull back with blonde chunks clutched between the fingers.

My heart thumped, almost painfully. I stared at my brother, then glanced at Tyler. He was looking around the room, looking casual. Like maybe he knew something and didn’t want to talk about it.

I swallowed hard. Licking my suddenly too dry lips, I returned my attention to Chris. “What did you do, Chris?” I whispered, dread pooling in my gut. I worried that he wouldn’t tell me. I worried that he would.

Taking a shuddering breath, he looked over at me, aiming his gaze just a little off from my eyes. “You won’t have to worry about Alexei anymore. None of us will.”

Alexei

The first thing I noticed was the ache. It was all over my body, beginning at my jaw and moving outwards in throbs that felt like blood trying too hard to pump through my system.

My head pounded, a splitting, blistering headache making it difficult for me to focus on anything else. For a moment, I just had to endure it, let it throb and pound and flood my system with awful, wracking pain. It was dreadful, to say the least.

The pain didn’t subside, but as I grew used to it, it became easier for me to focus. I began to attempt to figure out where I was, what was going on, and whether or not it was intelligent for me to move.

As I followed the catalogue of my aches, I found that my shoulders were sore as though I’d just come from the gym and worked until I tore muscle. My neck was in a similar state, stiff enough that I wasn’t thrilled with the thought of moving it. I left that still and alone for now, hoping that with time it would ease out a bit itself. Traveling lower, I noticed that my ribs were sore—I’d likely been kicked, perhaps when I was unconscious—and below that, I felt stiffness in my legs. They felt less as though someone had kicked them, however, and more as though they’d been left in a single, uncomfortable position for so long.

I hadn’t opened my eyes just yet. The pounding in my head, though slowly becoming more tolerable, cautioned against that and I definitely didn’t want to make it worse. I tried moving all of my limbs, making sure there was nothing too badly damaged, and found that everything seemed to more or less be working just fine. Maybe I didn’t feel great, but at least I wasn’t broken—or dead.

The thought raced through me, bringing the softest tinge of cold with it.

I was a hitman. I wasn’t afraid to die. But that didn’t mean I relished the idea. There were people out there who had a death wish, who stared it in the face, watched it and even waited for it, baited it until it came for them like a raging bull. But that wasn’t me. I liked this living thing.

Shaking off the thought of death—well, my death, anyway—I forced my eyes open. They felt grainy and a little rough, like I’d just gotten out of the ocean or been asleep for a day.

How long have I been unconscious?

As soon as the thought hit me, I snapped my eyes the rest of the way open, ignoring the pounding of my headache. I jerked myself up into a sitting position, realizing just how bad things could be.

“Shit,” I said out loud, realizing that it was already dark out. The day had shifted, leaving me behind, and now Christopher could be anywhere.
Had he been the one to attack me?
I had to assume so, though there was a chance it could have been someone else. His buddy, Jason maybe, or even that asshole Tyler guy who was so interested in my Susanna.

I doubted that last one, but acknowledged that there was a possibility for it. I doubted he was involved with Christopher and Jason and their ill planned heist, but there was a chance that he’d followed me while I trailed Christopher and tried to get rid of me.

Looking around, I took in my surroundings. It looked like I was in a ditch somewhere. Beneath me, the earth was moist, soft, not quite muddy, but not dry either. It smelled almost fresh, like rain had hit recently. Looking past the ditch, or up over the side of it anyway, from what I could see from my seated position, there was nothing but trees surrounding me.

I frowned. How far had Christopher gone to dump me?

Struggling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my limbs and the dull throb of my ribs, not to mention the sharp jabbing pains in my head, I thought things through. Madison was heavily wooded, so there was a chance I was still in town. But if Christopher—assuming, of course, he was the culprit—had half a brain in his head, he’d have gone at the very least to the edge of town. Far from him and his truck.

Or maybe he’s already moved on from Madison,
I thought gravely.

I cursed again. I would have to call Yegor back and figure out if the truck was still there. I searched myself and found that I no longer had my gun, nor my wallet. My phone was missing also, which actually made me angrier than the rest. The gun was easy—I had another in my car, which I hadn’t parked at the motel, so it would be safe from whoever attacked me—and I had spare cash, IDs, and credit cards there as well. But the phone? That was a direct line to Vinny and to Yegor. I wasn’t overly concerned that whoever had taken the phone would have the balls to call either of them, but I didn’t like the idea of not being able to get ahold of them.

Especially since I wanted to know where that damn truck was.

Sighing in exasperation, I resolved to climb out of the ditch and get a better idea of where I was. The earth was soft, making it difficult to climb up out of the ditch, my feet and hands sinking into the moist dirt as I struggled to climb. But eventually, I managed to get out. I found that, while trees had most definitely been directly next to me on one side, the other side was lined with road. At least I wouldn’t have to look for that
.

I walked in a short circle, trying to get my bearings. It was more difficult with no sun to go by. Then I stopped when I saw the sign.
Welcome to Madison.

The dipshit had dropped me outside of town, right along the side of the road and just outside a sign that would tell me exactly where I needed to go.

I had initially thought that it was moronic for someone to leave me so close to Madison, right along a road, with a clear direction of where I needed to go. Then I realized that, though Madison was very small, it was spread out. And since it was so small, there wasn’t a damn car on the road. I was headed in the general direction of my car, but I’d been walking for at least an hour now and it felt like I hadn’t made a damn bit of progress. The only thing different about the scenery was that I could no longer see the sign letting me know that I was entering Madison.

I hadn’t seen a single car in that whole time and I was starting to realize that I was very far behind. Whoever had hit me—my money was still on Christopher—was far ahead of me, and even if it wasn’t Christopher who had attacked me, there was no question that he would be long gone by the time I reached the damn motel again, much less by the time I got to my car and the gun I had stashed there.

I had about resigned myself to several more hours of walking, when I saw the lights flash. My first instinct, given that I’d just been attacked, was to run. And run fast. If I dove out of the way, then maybe the driver wouldn’t see me. But then I made a quick decision: I didn’t care if they saw me. If they did and it was my attacker, then good. Maybe they’d come after me, get into a car accident, or drive off the road, or maybe just stop to try and finish me off. In that sort of a fight, I would win. They had gotten the drop on me before, but not this time.

Standing my ground, I stared at the car that came closer and closer.
Car,
I thought suddenly,
not truck.
So it wasn’t Christopher. Maybe his buddy, Jason. Maybe Tyler. Maybe someone else entirely who just seemed to hate my guts for no reason. But not Christopher.

The car slowed down, pulling towards the side of the road. After a moment, it stopped completely and the passenger side window began to roll down.

I bent forward to see who was inside and found a kindly, if slightly worn face staring back at me. He looked like some middle aged man from the counter, that small town, open-faced look plastered across his almost dull seeming features. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a farmer.

“Well, hello there,” he greeted, his eyes widening slightly. “You look to be in quite a shape, young man!”

I glanced down at myself and for the first time really considered how I must look. I was covered in mud from the ditch, my clothing rumpled and even torn in spots, probably from the roll down into the ditch. My hair was likely wild, mussed, and probably dirty, too. I didn’t need to be told that my face likely was already starting to swell with bruises and probably was already beginning to discolor into sickly yellow and plum purple. Gingerly, I touched my lip, remembering that I’d bled there, too.

I must look like death warmed over,
I thought.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to be calm and project a friendliness that I wasn’t feeling. I wanted to hurt things, but I somehow doubted that this small town man was interested in picking up someone like that. And I instantly had decided that I wanted a ride.

Quickest way into town.

“I, uh, had some issues with my car,” I said finally. Not even remotely the truth, but I couldn’t exactly explain what had
really
happened. “And unfortunately, I left my phone in the hotel room where I’m staying. I could really use a ride there.”

The man’s eyebrows rose, showing wrinkles and spots of gray hair here and there. He considered me a moment longer, his eyes taking in my weathered appearance once more before answering me. “Well, I certainly can’t leave you like this. Where you staying?”

“The Ranch Hand Inn.”

He smiled, then shook his head. “Well, hell, a good night’s sleep there probably won’t make you feel better, but it won’t make you worse.” He laughed at himself. “Probably looks about as bad as you do. But c’mon in. I’ll give you a lift. Headed that general way myself anyhow.”

I offered him a genuine smile, my first in a good while, and pulled open the passenger door. As I slid in, I said, “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“Not a problem, sir. Not a problem. Always happy to help.”

I doubted he would feel that way if he knew my profession, but it didn’t matter. I’d already decided I liked the man and would insist he drop me off at the sign before he reached the parking lot, just in case there was going to be trouble.

Susanna

“What do you mean?” I asked and even I could hear the quiver in my voice. It was a tremble of fear, yes, but of anger, too. I could feel it building in my gut, this sense that everything was wrong. So very wrong. I had gotten things mixed up somehow, and now I was here, staring at my brother, looking at a man who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger to me. A complete stranger.

Chris shrugged, glancing over at Tyler as though confused. Like he could hear the anger lingering in my voice, but couldn’t understand what it was from. He turned back to look at me, then said, “Because he’s dead.”

All of the breath left my chest in a whoosh making me instantly dizzy. I stumbled, crumpling down heavily to the side of the bed, staring unseeing at my brother whose appearance suddenly became strange and blurry. A deep, wounding pain replaced the air that had been in my chest, leaving me feeling both too full and too hollow all at once.

Dead.
The word echoed in my head, my brain trying harder and harder to convince the rest of me that this was wrong. All of it was wrong and Alexei was fine. A word like
dead
just didn’t belong with him. It
couldn’t
.

For a long moment, I knew I was hyperventilating. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t be.

I was numb to the world for a long moment, my breathing difficult, painful even, and my eyes clouded with either tears or just plain old sadness. Either way, I couldn’t make out anything of my surroundings. Grief overwhelmed me until there was nothing left.

Then I felt hands on me, long and gangly and a little clammy, though not necessarily cold. It took me a minute, but I came back to that dingy, awful little room in the Ranch Hand Inn, noticing that my brother was standing there giving me a weird, curious look. And the hands that were on me? They belonged to Tyler. He was kneeling beside me, rubbing his hands over my arms where gooseflesh had cropped up everywhere, suddenly.

“It’s okay,” I finally heard him saying, his voice still kind of faraway. “It’s for the best. He was crazy…”

He said more, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t want to hear it, not from him or my brother. How could he
do
that? How…
how
?

Coming back to myself enough to fix my brother with a long, hard stare, I finally found the courage to get words out. They came out scratchy, like a frog croaking them out, but I didn’t care. I had to ask him, had to know, even though I now was fairly certain I didn’t want to hear his answer. “Did you… did you do it, Chris?”

His blonde eyebrows rose high on his forehead, causing his skin to crinkle almost comically. He looked bewildered that I had asked and for a moment he didn’t seem to know what to say. Then finally, he said, “Well, I mean,
we
did. Me and Jason. He was there to help me roll him into that damn ditch. Good thing he was here. That Alexei bastard was a real piece of work and—”

I shook my head, feeling frustration bubbling. I couldn’t think of Alexei right now. Couldn’t think of him as—as
dead
. So I focused. “I’m not talking about—” I couldn’t even say his name. If I did, I knew I would crack and the tears would come. I wasn’t sure they would ever stop if I let them fall. “I’m talking about the money, Chris. I’m talking about that… that
man
. Did you really beat him to death?” The last part came out as barely a whisper as I watched my brother’s face remain unchanged, calm and even casual. As though we were talking about where to go for dinner. My stomach roiled. I felt awful, nauseous, like I’d never be able to eat again.

Again, he stared at me as though I had asked him the most bizarre, completely out of left field question in the world. Like the question and the answer didn’t even matter
.

Dread like a dead weight, a stone, fell into my stomach and sunk there until I felt cold and uncomfortable. Until I knew his answer before he even told me.

He shrugged his shoulders, still seeming unconcerned about the whole thing. “Well, yeah. I mean, he was some lowlife piece of shit anyway, right? He worked for the fucking
mob
, Susanna. They’re all assholes. Who cares if he’s dead?”

And with those words, I felt the dread in me solidify. With it, a strange sense of calm washed over me. It wasn’t that I was okay with any of this. I wasn’t. Instead, it was as though knowing the truth, one way or the other, had finally put me at ease. It made me realize the options that were before me and I knew exactly which one I had to choose.

This man who stood before me—he was my brother, but at the same time, he wasn’t. The brother I knew had problems, to be sure. He was a screw up, a black sheep. He was a mean little kid, broken hearted about the death of our mother, and not dealing so well with the strict rules our dad had laid out before him. That brother was a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t a murderer.

This
man, however, was. He was a monster, a cold blooded killer, who did things without thought or concern as to their actions. If he’d had any concern, he wouldn’t have killed that man and stolen that money. And he wouldn’t have involved me like he did.

Sucking in a harsh breath, I knew that I had to get out of this hotel. I had to go and find Alexei. If he was out there somewhere, lying in some ditch, dying, I had to be with him. Even if it was only for a few more moments, I had to be there. I had to, even though it meant I’d be watching the only man I had ever loved and ever was going to love die.

It was going to kill me, but I needed to see him.

I got up off the bed, brushing off Tyler who was still fawning over me like some kid lavishing flowers to his secret crush in high school in the hopes that she might notice him for even a moment. He might have looked hurt or annoyed or whatever, but I paid him so little attention that I didn’t notice one way or the other. It didn’t matter to me in that moment, because questioning my brother as I was now, I couldn’t help but question Tyler, too.

Had either of them told me the truth before this moment? I couldn’t be sure.

I settled my brother with one last scathing look, then turned away, stomping towards the door. I didn’t get very far. A hand snapped out and grabbed my arm harshly. I blinked in surprise, turning to see it was my brother who had grabbed me. He jerked me back and it took everything I had not to stumble and fall. I stared at him bewildered.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked me and his eyes flashed like orbs on fire.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, struggling to shake him off. “Let me go.”

But he didn’t. “Not a chance,” he told me, his voice low and menacing, a tone that didn’t belong to a brother.

I looked over at Tyler, thinking maybe he would be of some help, but he just looked at his lap, ignoring what was happening between me and Chris. I felt a pang in my heart. My best friend wasn’t going to help me? That was too awful.

Returning my gaze to Chris, I repeated, “Let me go!”

“Forget it,” he told me, gritting his teeth and jerking me back, farther away from the door. “You’re not going anywhere. I think it’s best for everyone if you stay here with us a while.” Then he shoved me hard, sending me spiraling down to the bed. I tumbled next to Tyler and watched his eyes flicker to me for a moment, but not with even a smidgeon of sympathy. It was almost as though, once again, he was annoyed with me. Like this wasn’t how he had pictured it all in his head. Which made me wonder: what
had
he been picturing? And how much did he know before we got here?

Before I could think of how to argue my way out of it, or how to get around my brother to make a break for it, Chris turned to Tyler and pulled something out from the waistband of his worn jeans. It was a gun. My eyes widened at the sight of it, and Tyler flinched a little when Chris tossed it at him, but Tyler managed to catch it anyway with fumbling, nervous fingers. He looked up at my brother with wide eyes.

“Watch her,” he told Tyler, authority and threat lacing his voice in equal, terrifying parts. Who
was
this man? Certainly not my brother. “I have to go and meet up with Jason, figure a few things out, but she’s wigging out.” He jerked his head towards me, but didn’t even glance in my direction. “I don’t want her to do anything stupid like go to the cops. Once these guys figure out that Alexei guy is dead, they’ll send someone else. I want to be as far away from here as possible before that happens. So watch her and make sure she stays put. Do what you’ve gotta do. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he turned and went to the door. He grabbed a backpack and nothing else, didn’t glance back at me or Tyler, and when the door shut, the sound was strangely deafening. As though that was not just the end of a discussion, but more than that. It was the end of everything.

I sucked in a harsh breath, then began to scoot myself to the edge of my bed. I stood up, but didn’t even begin to make it to the door when I heard Tyler’s voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I froze. Surely this wasn’t happening. Just because my dipshit brother gave Tyler a gun and a command, surely he wouldn’t follow through with it, right? I turned to look at him and saw that he was holding the gun firmly.

In fact, he was pointing it. At me.