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“He tried to kill me,” she said.

“I guess you’re about as worthless as you said you were.”

Her face drained of color. “They’re not going to ransom me back,” she whispered.

“No, they’re definitely not.”

“So then are you going to…” She trailed off and her eyes strayed to the dead guy on the floor.

I faced her and took a deep breath. “I’m not going to kill you, birdie.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“You’re useful in other ways. And even if you weren’t, I’m not the type that murders innocent girls.”

“Right. Okay.” She blinked a few times. I could tell she was in shock.

I put my bag down and walked over to her. She stared up at me as I reached out and took her hand. She let me pull her up and off the bed.

“You got to move now,” I said. “We need to get going. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”

“We’re going to a hotel for tonight. Then after that, maybe a safe house, I’m not sure.”

She stared at me. “My uncle tried to kill me.”

“Yeah. He did.”

She chewed on her lip and said nothing.

I held her hand, grabbed my bag, and guided her out into the main room. She helped carry some of her stuff back down the stairs and out to the car. We got in and shut the door, but I didn’t leave right away.

“You know what this means, right?”

She stared out the window. Her face was blank. She still had her cousin’s old blood on her clothes.

“My family abandoned me.”

“Yeah, they did. Pretty fucked up if you ask me. But it also makes you wonder. Why would they go to that much trouble to kill you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Think about that one for a while.” I started the engine. “Maksim might be weak, but he’s not stupid. He wouldn’t try to kill you if he didn’t have a damn good reason for it. Maybe you should try and figure out what that reason might be.”

She turned to look at me, but didn’t answer.

I pulled the car into traffic and let the silence stretch between us.6RobinI woke up in scratchy white sheets and stared at the digital clock. It was just after six in the morning and my head still ached. I rubbed my neck where that guy had wrapped his bicep around my throat and took a few deep breaths just because I could.

Leo was stretched out on the little couch at the other side of the room. His legs hung off the end.

He looked asleep.

I slipped out of bed. I wore a pair of black cotton panties and an old t-shirt. I didn’t remember much from the day before.

Just a blur of moments. That guy with his arm around my throat. Leo kicking him in the chest. Leo shooting him in the end. The car ride to this hotel.

And not much after that.

I snuck into the bathroom and shut the door. I thought about running but the idea seemed stupid. Yesterday I probably would’ve bolted for the door and screamed my head off in the hall until someone came to save me, but this morning I couldn’t bring myself to do much more than splash water on my face and start the shower.

I closed the toilet lid and sat down. I stared at my hands. I thought I saw blood crusted in my fingernails from where I scratched at my attacker’s arm as I desperately fought him away.

I got up with a shiver and showered.

Leo had his feet up on the coffee table when I got out. I kept the towel wrapped around my chest. He looked up and I saw a spark of something in his eyes, but he didn’t come near me as I rifled through my bag and found clothes.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning.” I picked out a pair of jeans and a gray crewneck sweatshirt. I didn’t remember buying either of them.

“This might be a stupid question, but how do you feel?”

I stood up and looked at him. “How do I feel?”

He nodded and gestured for me to go on.

“I feel like my family just tried to kill me,” I said. “I feel like I watched you kill two guys in two days. I feel like my head’s about to break into pieces.”

“You haven’t eaten anything in a while,” he said. “Food and coffee might help the last thing.”

I frowned. He was right. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate.

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

“I’ll order some food up.”

I shook my head and carried the clothes into the bathroom. I got dressed, brushed my teeth, stared at myself in the mirror.

Dark bruises bloomed along my throat. I tugged at the neck of my sweatshirt and tried to get it to cover them, but it was impossible. I needed makeup or a turtle neck.


Tags: B.B. Hamel Volkov Crime Family Romance