Andros knees me, but I deflect it, elbow him in the ribs, and in the split second he’s winded, I grab the hoe and swing it with all I’ve got. It hits his stomach with a sickening thud.
“You bitch!” he spits out, releasing his grip on me, and I swing the heavy tool again before he can touch me again. I hit him again in the belly.
“Tomas!”
It all happens in a blur. Andros is on the ground, raising his hands to protect himself. I lift the hoe again and bring it down with all my strength. Blood spurts from his nose and I hear the snap of broken bone, but I raise it again when strong arms grab me from behind. I kick out and scream, trying to shake them off me, when a familiar voice comes in my ear.
“Leave this for Tomas.” I stop flailing. “You don’t want his blood on your hands. Leave it for him.” Nicolai holds me back, and Yakov stands on his other side. And then I see him. Tomas stands over Andros, his gun at his head.
I’ve never seen such cold, calculated rage on his face before. His hand shakes.
“Believe me, Caroline,” Nicolai says. “He wants to kill him.”
“Cuff him,” Tomas orders, his gun still trained on Andros’ face.
“You son of a bitch, you took my woman,” Andros says.
“I’ll remember you called her your woman before I kill you,” Tomas says evenly, surprisingly calm. Yakov cuffs Andros and Tomas yanks him to his feet, then he looks to me. “Nicolai, let her go.” Nicolai releases me. “Caroline, come with me.”
I do so gladly. I want to throw my arms around him and weep, but it isn’t time. Not now. I turn to Yakov and Nicolai.
“Yvonne and Ilya are in the cellar,” I say. “He hurt her, Yakov.”
Yakov and Nicolai race to the door, while Tomas drags Andros along with him. Tomas’ men have come in droves, literally dozens of them. The car that would take me is surrounded by men. There are shouts and cries and the sounds of gunshots, fists, and screams, but I can’t listen. I can’t focus.
Tomas will exact his revenge, and he wants me with him.
I’m shaking so badly I can hardly walk. I nearly killed a man tonight. I came so close to being taken from the only safe home I’ve ever known.
My husband didn’t cheat on me.
“He set you up, Tomas,” I say, as Tomas drags Andros through the front door and down the hall that leads to the interrogation room.
“Of course he did,” Tomas says. “We’ll discuss that later.” Tomas’ men follow him on instinct, but he shakes them off. “No one but me and Caroline,” he says. “Get rid of every trespasser we have here but bring her brother to me.”
My brother?
“He’s here?”
“Yes,” Tomas says tightly. “When we spoke earlier, I knew I recognized where he was, but it took me a minute to piece it together. He’s here.”
I look around me, as if my brother will leap out and grab me at any minute, when Tomas shakes his head.
“No, baby,” he says. Andros roars with fury but Tomas just shakes him to silence him. “He won’t touch you.”
This place scares the hell out of me. I know what it is, as we had one in San Diego as well. The interrogation room. It’s stark, and outfitted for torture, with cuffs and chains and tables laid out. The walls are thick, the room windowless, the floors concrete. Designed for easy clean up and muting screams. My stomach rolls.
“You will not see this,” Tomas says. “You don’t need to see this. But he does owe you an apology before he dies.”
Tomas’ men stand by the door, awaiting his commands, as Tomas drags Andros into the room. I follow, and he shuts the door behind him.
He forces Andros to his knees and puts the gun at his head. “You will apologize for harming my wife. For touching her. For assaulting her, calling her names, and threatening her safety. All of it. Now.”
Andros glares at me furiously and says nothing. Tomas places his gun down, turns to Andros, and punches him so hard his head snaps back and blood pours from his nose.
“Apologize.”
“Why?” Andros snaps out. “You’re still going to kill me. Then do it.”
Tomas laughs mirthlessly. “And grant you the satisfaction of an early death? I’ll send you to hell, but not until you’ve paid the price for what you’ve done.”
I can hardly watch as Tomas hits him, again and again. Andros screams and Tomas doesn’t waver, until Andros’ eyes are swollen shut and his face is barely recognizable.
“Apologize.”
“I’m sorry,” Andros finally moans. “I’m sorry.”
Tomas gives one short nod. “Caroline, wait for me outside the door.”
Shaking, I stand to obey. He’s going to kill him and wants to save me from having to see it. I’m not sure that matters, though. I want to know he’s dead. I want to know he’ll never touch me again.