If The Seas Catch Fire (34 page)

And the hit… It didn’t even have to happen today—his contacts all knew big hits took planning. He had time. But making this go on longer benefitted no one.

So Sergei drove. And didn’t look at Dom. And tried not to notice the outline of the pistol pressing into his leg.

A few miles past the mile marker where he’d met Katashi last time, Sergei pulled over. Wordlessly, they got out of the car, and Dom followed Sergei into the woods. As they picked their way through the underbrush, Sergei caught himself hoping this was an ambush. That Dom was waiting for the right opportunity to pull out a gun of his own and drop him.

But he didn’t. Damn him.

At a clearing, Sergei stopped. “This… this should be far enough from the road. No one will hear anything.”

Dom pulled in a long breath through his nose. “Just don’t make me dig my own grave.”

“That’s not funny.”

Dom faced him, his expression completely serious. “I’m not joking.”

Sergei raised his eyebrows. “I… wouldn’t. No way.”

“Thank you.”

Though he knew he was only making it worse for both of them, Sergei wrapped his arms around Dom. “I’m sorry. I wish there was another way.”

“Me too.”

Sergei cupped his face and kissed him, and held him tight. When they separated, they held each other’s gazes for a few seconds, and then pulled apart completely.

Here we go. This is it.

Sergei slid the pistol out of the holster.

Dom gulped. “Just promise me you’ll leave after this.” He eyed the gun, and then met Sergei’s gaze. “Get the fuck out of Cape Swan and never look back.”

Sergei nodded, nausea rising in his throat. “I promise.” He glanced at his pistol. “I… I’ve never done this with someone who’s…”

“Not fighting?”

“Yeah. That.”

Dom avoided his eyes. Without a word, he knelt on the ground in front of Sergei. “Just make it quick, all right?”

Sergei flinched. “Shouldn’t…” His mind raced, searching for any means to delay the inevitable. “Don’t you want to see a priest first?”

Dom lifted his gaze. “After everything I’ve seen, do you really think I still believe in God?”

So much for that stalling tactic.

“Please, Sergei,” Dom breathed. “Don’t drag this out.”

Heart thumping and stomach twisting, Sergei stepped closer. He was tempted to kiss him, or touch his face one last time, but that just seemed like unnecessary torment for both of them.

Dom tilted his head back. Sergei pressed the muzzle up under his jaw.

He curled his finger around the trigger. One pull. All he had to do was give it one pull, and this would all be over.

But his hand shook. Goddammit.

He forced his emotions back. He could break down afterward. Not while Dom was still alive. While he could see him, hear him, realize how much this hurt. No, he’d wait until he was sure Dom’s heart wasn’t beating anymore.

Dom put his hand over Sergei’s. “Just do it.” His finger slid over the top of Sergei’s, and when he swallowed, his jaw pushed against the muzzle. “
Please
.”

Just one shot. Once his heart stops, I can lose it.

Just one shot.

One bullet.

One—

He jerked the gun away. With shaking hands, he dropped the magazine and cleared the chamber, and then tossed all the pieces on the ground. “I won’t.”

“Sergei—”

“No.” He met Dom’s gaze and clenched his jaw. “They killed people I love. If they want you dead too, I’m not doing that dirty work for them.”

“But they’ll kill you too.”

“I know.” He dropped to his knees and touched Dom’s face, tears falling freely down his face as he whispered, “And I’d rather have a bull’s eye on my head than your blood on my hands.”

“You’re insane,” Dom said, wiping Sergei’s tears. “I don’t want—”

Sergei cut him off with a hard kiss. He gripped the back of Dom’s neck until he knew it had to hurt, and refused to let go.

Dom’s lips softened, and he opened to Sergei. One hand appeared on Sergei’s cheek. The other arm snaked around his waist. Sighing in unison, they pulled each other closer.

When Sergei’s lips left Dom’s, his voice was thick with tears, but he managed, “There
has
to be another way. I’m not doing this.”

Dom exhaled, touching his forehead to Sergei’s. He didn’t argue, though. Instead, he drew Sergei in, and for the longest time, they just leaned on each other. With his head against Dom’s chest, Sergei could feel every beat of Dom’s heart, and just like each beat pushed blood through Dom’s veins, it pushed relief through Sergei’s. Dom was still alive. They were both still alive. God knew where they went from here, but the bullet was lying harmlessly on the ground, still unfired in its casing.

After a while, Dom smoothed Sergei’s hair and said, “If we can’t go through with this, then the only thing we can do is take them down with us.”

Sergei lifted his head and blinked. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack. We’ve got hundreds of people in indentured servitude,” he said. “We’re running narcotics all over the West Coast. The body count…” He shook his head, grimacing painfully. “I don’t want this to go on any more than you do.”

Sergei chewed his lip. “I’ve been working on that for years. But it’s not going to happen overnight. My whole plan was to have Felice take his father’s place, and then Vincente Cusimano would finish the job. But Vincente isn’t in power yet and…” He sighed. “They’ll catch up to us before that part works itself out.”

“Then maybe we need to speed things up a little.”

“What do you suggest?”

Dom shook his head. “I don’t know yet. We’ll have to come up with a plan. We’re only going to get one shot, though.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sergei paused. “Before we do this, though, there’s something I need to do.” He swallowed. “Alone.”

Dom studied him, and then nodded. “All right.” He smoothed Sergei’s hair. “Do you need to be alone now?”

“No.” Sergei drew him closer, his voice dropping to barely a whisper: “Alone is the last place I want to be right now.”

*              *              *

“Good morning, Sergei.” Brittany smiled over the desk at the nurse’s station. “Wasn’t expecting you today.”

Sergei faked the best smile he could. “Had the day off. Thought I’d come visit.”

“Well, she’ll be happy to see you.”

“I’m sure.” He started toward Mama’s room, but paused. “Do you want to me to take her pills to her?”

“Oh, now that you mention it…” She looked down at the tray she’d been preparing as she always did at this time of day, and handed one to him over the desk. “Thank you.”

“Thank
you
.” Sergei held that smile for another second, and continued down the hall with the paper cup. Outside Mama’s door, he paused, glancing around to make sure he was out of anyone’s sight. Certain he was alone, he slipped a couple of capsules from his pocket into the cup.

Then he took a deep breath, forced a smile, and stepped into Mama’s room.

She was in her usual armchair, gazing out the window but not really focusing on anything as far as he could tell.

“Mama?”

She slowly turned her head. He held out hope this would be one of those rare moments when she recognized him, but when she smiled and murmured, “Vasya,” his heart sank.

“Yes, Mama,” he whispered in their native tongue. “It’s me.”

“Only you?” She looked around, and he couldn’t help wondering if she was even seeing the room they were in, or if she saw their old house, the one they’d all fled that night before the Italians had caught up with them. The dementia had taken her so far away, he couldn’t begin to tell where she was now.

“It’s only me,” he whispered.

“Will the others come soon?”

Sergei hesitated. “Yes, Mama. They’ll…” He struggled to keep his voice even. “You’ll see them very soon.”

“Good. Good. Papa has been gone too long. They’re making him work so much.”

He struggled to keep his emotions together. Today of all days, he refused to frighten her with a confusing breakdown.

After a while, he took a deep breath. “I came to tell you something, Mama.”

She turned to him, smiling a little but looking right through him. “What is it?”

“I wanted you to know that…” He squeezed her hand. “That it’s all over now. The men who hurt us, they’re going away.” He sighed. He’d always imagined being almost giddy when he finally told her. When he could finally say the words and hope they connected to some remote part of her mind that might still be lucid, that might grab onto the information and give her peace.

But this wasn’t how he’d expected it all to play out. And even though he’d finally reached the endgame, now that it was nearly as over as it would ever be, he was just… exhausted. Relieved in a way, but he couldn’t find any joy or excitement in the amount of blood that had been spilled. Justice had been served. There was still some left, and he’d either serve that too or die trying. But now all he wanted was rest. Rest which would hopefully come soon.

He patted her fragile hand. “They won’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“Good.” Her voice was distant, as was her gaze. There was no telling if she had any idea what he’d said, what it meant. “That’s good.”

“You should—” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared my throat. “You should take your meds, Mama.”

She turned to him, looking right at him. Sergei’s heart clenched—it was one of those rare moments when she looked at him and not through him. When she was here and so was he. Maybe, just this one time…

She smiled. “When will you bring Seryozha to visit me?”

He exhaled. Damn it. He coughed again, and whispered, “I’ll bring him soon.”

“Good.” She smiled, and her eyes were distant now, as if she was looking into an entirely distant time and place. “Are you still seeing that lovely girl?”

His throat tightened, and he forced a smile. “Yeah, Mama.”

“Good.” Mama nodded and gazed out the window. “Good.”

Sergei forced back his emotions, but that was getting harder by the second. The stoic outer shell was only going to last so much longer. “Mama, you need to take your meds.” He pushed the cup of pills toward her.

She eyed it warily. “But I feel fine.”

“I know you do. You need to take them so you’ll still feel fine.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He helped her take her pills, holding the glass of water steadier than her hands could. After she’d swallowed all of them, he set the glass aside and leaned over her.

“I love you, Mama.” He kissed the top of her head. “Tell Papa and the others hello for me.”

“I will, Vasya,” she slurred. Her eyelids grew heavy, and finally closed. After a moment, her breathing slowed, and soon, her chest rose and fell in the distinctive pattern of someone who was fast asleep.

He held her hand, and with the other, took the tiny spray bottle from his pocket, glancing at the door to make sure they were alone.

Then he held his breath, waited until just before she inhaled, and sprayed the fine mist just in front of her nose and parted lips. Her features twitched a bit, probably just irritated by the moisture.

As promised, the poison took effect quickly and quietly. Before he’d even pocketed the bottle, her breath hitched. Her body tensed slightly, her fingers tightening feebly around his before relaxing again.

And he sat there, and he waited, holding her frail hand until he was sure she was gone. After her chest had fallen for the last time, he stayed like that a moment longer.

Then he carefully placed her hand on the armrest.

With a tissue, he dabbed her face, wiping away the traces. He stuffed the tissue into the wastebasket, and then stood beside her and took her hand again. He wanted to kiss her forehead one last time, but couldn’t take the risk coming in contact with any residue, so he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, gave her one final look, and left the room.

Brittany was on her way in, but Sergei stopped her. “She’s asleep. She seemed really tired when I came in—might want to let her rest for a while.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the door, then back at him, and shrugged. “Well, her physical therapy’s not for another hour. No reason she can’t rest for a little bit first.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

She smiled back, and they continued in separate directions.

All the way out to the parking lot, he thumbed the edge of the spray bottle in his pocket. They wouldn’t suspect a thing. Not unless the medical examiner did more than a cursory autopsy, which he probably wouldn’t. He was already overrun with work, and thanks to Dom and Sergei, he’d be busy for a while anyway.

When they found her, they wouldn’t call the police. They wouldn’t try to resuscitate her because it would be obvious by then that she was too far gone. Really, it didn’t make a difference for him if they went in now or if they waited.