CHAPTER 18
CHRISTIAN ‘VICIOUS’ VOLKOV.
“Boss wants you alive but Dante Keaton? He pays us better and he wants you dead, friend.”
“The great Costa Nostra heir has been reduced to this. Weak because of grief. Tell you what? We’ll put you out of your misery and grant you the wish of seeing your whore of a sister back in hell.”
The two men were going to die by my hands as soon as I sensed them.
I was meant to torture them, use them as examples for the other six men hiding by the bushes of some sort.
These two men crossed the line. I reacted and the men lay near my feet in pools of their own blood for mentioning my sister.
Demetri sent eight men to capture me. Two traitors. Six cowards.
A total of eight men.
That’s the math going on in my head, there are supposed to be eight men out here in the night with me.
My mind didn’t predict one possibility though.
And that one possibility presents itself in a spray of bullets heading in my direction and feminine screams piercing the air.
She fires bullet after bullet like a madwoman.
I duck out of the way, but the six men? The six men supposed to deliver a message to Demetri?
They all meet the snow one after the other as their shooter reveals herself from behind a tree.
With a grey hat on her head, her hair getting swayed by the wind at the edges, an oversized peacoat eating her up and big boots covering her legs…wait is that a spoon tapped to her boot?
The little minx never lets go of the trigger.
Her screams never stop.
Her terror of shooting without looking at where she’s firing only comes to an end when she runs out of bullets.
“Did I get them?”
You got them alright; you killed them all damn it.
I’m already up on my feet and whatever calmness I had established a few minutes ago dissipates into the air like vapor.
Snow stretches between us, wind hollers between our distance, my anger fills to the brim.
“You were supposed to stay back in the house.”
Instead, she followed me and I couldn’t get a whiff of her scent, her stubbornness or the lies flowing through the teeth she’s showing me right now.
“You left me all alone. What if they made it to the house and shot me?”
“You shot them. You killed them.”
You killed Demetri’s men. Any chances of negotiating with that fucker after killing eight of his men are close to none.
Her blue eyes filter past me, her rifle – she had to take a rifle out of all the guns in the house – drops to the ground as she takes two unsure steps toward me.
“No, I-I didn’t. I meant to scare them not-.”
“You shot at them with the intent to kill. Not twice and certainly not thrice.”
Your bullets might have already killed any non-existent wolves that exist within a mile radius.
“I’m not you”, her voice quivers. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
I should be less of a dick.
Yet right now she has me seeing red at her stupidity, her stubbornness and her defiance.
I know she’s not me.
I’ve touched her ass, I’ve smelled her innocence, I’ve seen the child this woman has brought to the world.
And everything about her is pure.
Her hands are the hands of a healer, not a taker. Not like mine.
She couldn’t hurt a fly If she wanted to but I don’t make her feel that way.
Making her feel better is the least of my concerns right now.
“This is what happens when you think you know fucking better. The rule was simple Alexia, stay, wait for me but that’s too hard for you to…”
Warm liquid trickles down my neck, touches my shoulder and wets my shirt.
I touch my neck, my fingers come out red.
“Christian-“ her pretty voice calls me but the world spins.
Every damn time she calls me ‘Christian’ something shitty happens.
Her hands are already on my coat, covering my chest as the whole world spins.
Her breath hits my chin, I gaze down at her and utter the most ironical statement I have ever spoken.
“You shot me in the neck.”
“Your stray bullets…hit me on the neck.”