The man appears to be in his late thirties, has small eyes, thin lips, and white-blond hair cut military style. He slaps a hand on the back of his head where a small wound gushes with blood. I wouldn’t call it fatal, but it definitely needs stitches.
“What the fuck…?” He stares between the two of us. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Judging by the Russian accent, you’re part of the mafia. Check,” Eli muses, appearing to enjoy this a bit too much. “I’m also going to guess you’re on Jeremy’s side, not Nikolai’s. Or more accurately, you’re a double agent who’s crossing Jeremy?”
The guard’s eyes turn bloodshot, narrower, which means we’re getting close. He starts to stand, but I kick him back down with a foot and keep my leg on his chest.
He releases his nape and wiggles, just like those worms back when we were kids. But this time, he manages to get his gun and jumps up. I kick his hand, and it clinks to the ground.
Eli kicks it away, grabs the man’s arms and hauls them behind his back, then shoves him to his knees again. “Now, now, let us not use weapons in this. They’re illegal on UK soil anyway.”
“We’re going to ask you a few questions.” I push the sleeves of my hoodie up. “You’ll either answer them nicely or we can turn your face into a map of destruction first.”
He spits at me and I smile. “A map of destruction, it is.”
I use him as my punching bag, driving my fist into his face, chest, and stomach over and over as Eli holds him back.
My brother gets bored halfway through, suppresses a yawn, and chooses to scroll through his phone. While still grabbing him in a deadly clutch.
I slam my fist underneath the man’s jaw, sending it flying sideways, and ask for the dozenth time. “What are you telling Landon?”
I expect the guard to remain silent like before, but he breathes harshly as blood pours from his mouth. “Are you going to take his place in clearing my debts?”
“We might.” Eli’s manic attention slides to the guard and he tucks his phone in his pocket. “But if you don’t tell us what we want to know, not only will you lose us as sponsors, but we’ll also make sure you lose Landon. King money might be infinite, but it’s hard to come by for peasants like you.”
“You don’t even care to hide your identities,” the guard pants out, sounding barely coherent with all the blood that’s gushing from his lips and nose.
“Does it make a difference?” Eli releases the man’s wrists, strolls in front of him, and cocks his head to the side. “Who would believe a traitor cockroach like you anyway? Definitely not Jeremy. And if you think Lan has your back, then you’re in for a life lesson. My cousin has absolutely no fucks to give about anyone who’s not himself and his dick. The moment he realizes you’re no longer a useful pawn in his alleged grand schemes, he’ll discard you.”
“You’ll pay the debts?” He’s speaking to me, probably having figured out I’m the least unhinged, despite the galaxy of bruises I left on his face.
Poor cunt.
There’s no such thing as a sane King.
Still, I nod and step back.
The guard takes a few moments to rise to his feet, then lets his weight fall against the dirty stone wall and taps his pockets before he fetches a blunt.
It takes a few more moments for him to light it. We don’t interrupt, patiently waiting for him to divulge what he knows. As Eli said, it’s better to allow the prey to come out on its own since any form of coercion might have the exact opposite effect.
And from what I gather, this man holds no loyalty to anyone. Except for his debts. Probably due to gambling.
“Landon wanted to know about the Volkov family secrets, but he was particularly interested in one that reached the media but remained a cold case.” He releases a cloud of smoke. “This happened a long time ago, when I was twenty and had just recently left Russia to join the New York Bratva. I saved one of the leaders by putting my life in jeopardy and soon after, I was recruited by Adrian Volkov’s men. Back then, he had this pesky problem that scattered his attention from his duties as the strategist of the New York City branch.”
“Oh?” Eli leans against the wall, mirroring his stance, and even retrieves a cigarette, then shoves it at the corner of his lips but doesn’t light it. “And pray tell, what might that be?”
“His wife went”—the man circles his finger near his temple—“crazy.”
“Crazy?” I echo.
Is that what Annika meant when she said her parents had a dark start that she wasn’t a part of?
“The type of crazy that was kept under wraps even within Boss’s inner circle. We weren’t allowed to utter her name unless we wished for a one-way ticket to the Spetsnaz, or worse, a grave.”
“That’s an interesting story, really. I’m all for craziness.” Eli pulls his unlit cigarette from between his lips as if he’s smoking. “But I don’t see why that’s of importance in the current circumstances.”
“Her craziness drove her to commit murder.”
“Now, that’s a much better tidbit for drawing suspense. And?”
“The man she killed was a public figure. A mayoral candidate, in fact. The one who would’ve for sure won that year’s election, considering he was the people’s favorite. She stabbed him thirty-four times, repeatedly, long after he was dead.”
My ears buzz with a grating ringing sound and the walls start closing in around me. The onslaught is so sudden that I have trouble breathing. The collar of my hoodie scratches against my skin and my side where my tattoo tingles and burns.
“Sounds bloody brutal,” Eli says.
“Looked gruesome, too. I was sent with a few others to the murder scene to remove any incriminating evidence before the authorities came along. The man had an absolutely horrified expression, as if his soul had been extracted by the devil himself.”
“And?” Eli asks.
“There’s no and. That’s the incident Landon wanted details about. I told him that the murder of the mayoral candidate was swept under the rug and no one was convicted for it. In fact, his mask was ripped off in public. Turns out, he was never the righteous man the media had portrayed him to be. Many women came forward confessing that he’d sexually assaulted them, including the homeless he was supposed to be taking care of as the shelter’s director. He also kept a file full of videos and pictures of them that he held over their heads as a form of blackmail. His wife was also accused of recruiting suitable candidates for his sick tastes. It was the ultimate shaming event for him and his family, and all the vapid mouths turned to his wife. She lost everything her husband left her to loan sharks and was about to be prosecuted for abetting sexual assault. So she committed double suicide with her son. I heard he was just a toddler.”
I pull on the collar of my hoodie with jerky fingers, my breathing so heavy, I’m surprised they don’t hear it. When I speak, I don’t recognize the raw quality of my voice. “Name.”
The guard raises a brow. “What?”
“Name. The dead man’s fucking name.”
A cloud of smoke reaches me first, clogging my already closed throat, before his calm words cut me in half. “Green. Richard Green.”
I drive my fist against the wall so hard, pain and blood explode from my knuckles.
Eli casts a glance at me, brows knitting before his face goes back to a blank slate. “I assume your boss is the one who encouraged those girls to come forward and pulled strings to destroy the Green family?”
“You assume correctly. I don’t know how true those accusations were, but I’m certain that Boss made sure to ruin Richard’s reputation so thoroughly that no one considered him a hero anymore. In fact, people started expressing relief that such vermin had been killed.”
“And that’s all you told Landon?” Eli asks.
“That’s all I know.” He throws his blunt down and steps on it with his shoe. “I’ll be in touch for my money.”
“I suggest you run as far as you can go.” Eli squeezes his shoulder. “Debts will be the least of your worries if your dear boss or his son finds out there’s a traitor in their ranks.”
“You fucking—”
Eli squeezes tighter, then whispers, “You aren’t running.”
The guard glances at the ground, but before he can reach for the gun, Eli picks it up and releases a displeased sound, then points it at him. “No guns on UK soil, remember? But maybe I can change the rules just this once?”
The guard spits at him before he hobbles out of the alley.
I’m only half focused, half conscious about what’s happening around me. Then the pieces of the puzzle start to fit together.
The clearer the image, the bloodier it gets.
The muddier my head turns.
The heavier my breathing becomes.
I pull my fist from the wall—my good one, the one I use to fight with—then slam it against the wall again. Stronger this time so that a splash of blood decorates the dirty surface.
Not enough.
This pain isn’t enough to drown the chaos that’s nearly splitting my brain open. Or the facts that come with it.
Such as Lia and Adrian Volkov being the villains of my childhood.
Annika’s parents are the reason I grew up into this hollow person with no core whatsoever.
I’m on that floor again. My face tight, my lungs burning, and I’m crawling on the hard wood.
Like those worms, I’m struggling, wiggling, biting my lips, fighting. That’s why I loved hunting them. I always liked squashing them.
It was better if they died fast instead of opening their mouths and being strangled further.
Instead of having white foam on the side of their mouths that wouldn’t go away no matter how much they spat. Or gagging on their own vomit.
My heart burns to the point of self-destruction. This must be what happens to machines when they reach the end of their lifetime.
They need to be destroyed.
I punch again, but this time, I meet a softer surface.
“Ow.” Eli uses his hand that he let me punch to shove me back. “Instead of hurting yourself, how about you use this destructive energy to hit someone who actually deserves your wrath?”
And then, like an unconventional older brother, he forbids my self-ruination and drags me to our next hunt.
* * *
The subjectof the hunt happens to be back at the mansion.
The moment we walk through the front door, we find Landon lounging on a chair, a phone in hand.
“What took you so bloody long? I finished my pending business, paid a visit to a completely drunk Remi, played a game, and was just about to call it a night.” He finally lifts his head. “I figured Eli would make you hasten the process if you confided in him. I must say, I’m wounded, right in the middle of my nonexistent heart. I thought we shared a connection, Cray Cray. Judging by your expression, the cunt spilt it all?”
I storm in his direction, pull him up by the collar of his T-shirt, and punch him with the same hand I nearly broke against the wall.
Landon falls sideways on the chair and his phone clatters to the ground. He smiles as I grab him again, my fingers digging into his skin.
“You saw me with her. You fucking witnessed it all, every single part of it, so why the fuck—” I cut myself off because my voice is too scratchy to be heard. I swallow hard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know it was her family for sure until recently. I’m superhuman, but not enough to locate the right guard who’ll sing when his mouth is shoved full of money. I did try to warn you. Not my fault nobody listens to Lan, even when he’s always right.”
I drive my fist into his face again. “You should’ve told me.” Punch. “You chose to use me instead.” Punch. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Blood explodes from his nose and the corner of his lip and he spits it on the carpet, but he doesn’t attempt to fight me. He’s letting me use him as my relief outlet.
“Would it have changed anything?” He grins, revealing blood-stained teeth. “You’re so into that mafia princess that you can’t see straight anymore, Cray Cray. I bet you’re more upset about your relationship with her than about the truth you so earnestly searched for all these years. I must admit, I liked you better when you were an emotionless little heathen.”