Kozlov turned fully toward him, looking amused more than scared.
“How did you find us?” he inquired, almost politely.
“My client carries a mini iPhone, and I track her whereabouts constantly.”
Kozlov’s gaze flew to his assistant, who recoiled beside me, knowing he would pay dearly for the mistake.
The Bratva soldier was completely still in Ransom’s headlock, aware that my bodyguard had no qualms about putting a bullet in his head if the situation demanded.
“What’s the plan?” Kozlov smiled. “Finish the job you started with Yefim and kill all of us?”
Yefim. The boy’s name was Yefim. I saw Ransom’s jaw harden, his nostrils flaring. He knew that. Of course he knew that. I bet he relived that moment every hour of his life.
Kozlov’s assistant pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it at Ransom.
Fuck. Could my life get any messier with this man around? And to think this all started with anip slip.
“Because,” Kozlov smiled indulgently, “if you kill me, it looks like you’ll be killed, too.”
“Nice deductive abilities.” Ransom shoved the bodyguard forward, treading deeper into the room. “I have no immediate plans to kill any of you, as tempting as it is.”
“Right,” Kozlov said. “So how do you see this playing out?”
“Simply.” Ransom let loose one of his signature, devil-may-care smiles. “This restaurant is crowned with an entire SWAT team, twenty LAPD cops for backup, a helicopter, the DA, and an unholy amount of security vehicles. You killed an FBI agent, dipshit. You can surrender yourself quietly—my least favorite option—or you could go out in a blaze of glory and let me kill you. This, I like better, since I’d get to make it slow and painful, for how you treated Miss Thorne.”
It never occurred to me, until he said it, that I looked like a mess. But I’d been roughed up by Kozlov and his assistant, and I’m sure all those thrashes had left marks.
“If we both go down, I would have no regrets,” Kozlov said quietly. “You killed my son.”
“I hate myself every day for it.” For the first time since I’d met him, Ransom’s voice broke. “I think about that boy more than I think about the parents who left me. More than I think about my own goddamn life. But I had no idea. None at all. You put him right in front of me. In harm’s way. What kind of bastard father does that?”
“So…you should be forgiven?” Kozlov huffed, looking resigned. His shoulders drooped, and he seemed fed up and tired all of a sudden.
Both men looked broken.
“No,” Ransom said. “You should trust in my pain. Because I feel it. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.”
Behind Ransom’s back, SWAT team members gathered. Ransom let go of the bodyguard, pushing him forward. He staggered toward Kozlov.
“Game over, Kozlov. Either you come out of here like a dog or in a body bag.”
“Was all this planned?” Kozlov demanded. “Did you want me to kidnap her?”
The mere suggestion made my blood turn to lava. It was possible. Totally possible. Which made me furious.
Ransom shook his head. “I would never do that to her.”
“I don’t believe you have any limits,” said Kozlov.
And, sadly, I shared the sentiment.
Kozlov closed his eyes. All he did to show his submission was a curt, barely-there nod to his bodyguard and soldier in the room.
Ransom stepped aside. The SWAT team stalked in, handcuffing Kozlov and his crew. My eyes followed the men who’d kidnapped me. I was afraid if I blinked, they’d be on top of me again, wrestling me to the floor, hitting me.
“You’re safe now.” His voice seeped into my ear, so close his hot breath caressed the side of my neck.
“You tracked my phone,” I said tonelessly.