“Nina von Brandt.”
His expression is flat, eyes empty. Can I push him down the stairs?
“She didn’t think I was very cute later,” he says, and I realize he’s not as stupid as I hoped.
The game is over.
Andrei takes a stalking step toward me, and I run, gripping the banister and flying down the stairs so fast, I slip and tumble down the last few, the pocketknife flying out of reach.
He’s right behind me, body heavy as he tackles me at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’re not going anywhere!”
I can’t help my scream when he grips a handful of hair as soon as I’m back on my feet. He tugs me backward into him, the smell of sweat on him making me nauseous.
“Get away from me!” I slap at him and scratch at his face, but he’s too strong and when I hear the gun cocked and feel the cold metal at my throat, I freeze.
We hear it at the same time then. The banging of small fists against the upstairs door.
Shit.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
How long has Josh been screaming?
The man shifts his gaze up the stairs, then back to me, and a wicked grin stretches across his face, making him look like the devil himself.
“Mommy?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.
A car comes to a screeching halt outside. Does he hear it? I know I have seconds to act, and I smash my head into his nose hard.
He stumbles backward, his hold on me relaxing for just a minute, but when I try to slip away, to reach the knife just a few feet from me, he slams the butt of his gun into my temple so hard I spin and drop to my hands and knees.
“Don’t you fucking dare!”
I’m dazed. My head throbs, hair hanging like a bloody curtain between us as the room spins. I think about this morning, and I can still smell the marshmallow pancakes Pasha made.
I retch then. I’m sick on the living room carpet.
“That’s disgusting,” Andrei says, crouching down in front of me. “Where were we?”
He shoves me onto my back, eyes like death as he scans my body, pushing thick fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He tugs me closer, forcing my legs apart and undoing my jeans, tugging them halfway down my hips.
I stretch my arm out over my head, fingers curling around the pocketknife.
“That’s right. We were right here,” he says, licking his already wet lips.
“This is for Nina,” I say, bringing my knife arm toward his gut.
But I’m not fast enough. He hits my arm with his, and the knife clatters against the wall at the far corner.
“She wasn’t so pretty after I beat the shit out of her, you know,” he says, gripping my jaw to slam the back of my head into the floor. “Now it’s your turn.”
He flips me over, drags me up onto my knees by my hair, and he’s behind me.
“Let’s see what’s so special about your cunt that has my cousin betraying his own blood.”
27
Lev
When I finally skid into the driveway, I can’t fucking breathe. My chest is caving in on me, and my vision is blurry as I head for the door. Something thumps against the floor as I punch in the code, fucking it up, forcing me to repeat the process all over again.
I have no voice. I can’t even call out for her. But when I swing the door open, I realize that it isn’t necessary. Because my worst fears have materialized, and I don’t have to look any further to find Kat.
She’s right here on the living room floor with Andrei behind her and a gun to her head. Her pants are pulled down to her thighs, and Andrei’s jeans are unzipped. The first thing I think of is aiming straight for his dick.
“Andrei.” My voice is a warning as I reach for the pistol in my jeans, but before I can grab it, he’s jamming his own gun into Kat’s temple, shaking his head.
“Shut the door,” he barks.
Slowly, I ease the door shut behind me, glancing around the room for Pasha. But he isn’t here. Josh, however, is crying in his room upstairs, banging on the door. My throat narrows to a pinhole as I force myself to remain calm, meeting Kat’s gaze.
She’s fucking terrified. Her eyes are streaked with tears, and every time Josh cries out, she flinches in pain. It’s a pain I understand because I feel it too. But I’m determined to change that, but I just don’t know how yet.
Andrei is coked out of his mind, as usual, and his eyes are practically bugging out of his head. I need to get him to calm the fuck down. Keep him talking and distract him somehow.
“How did you find them?” I ask.
“You think you’re so fucking smart,” he sneers. “Do you think I don’t know about the fucking tracker you slipped onto my car?”