But that was different. It wasn't Kat who had done the harm to Adrian, it was her father.
I took Kira's father, and there's nothing I can say or do to make up for that.
I pull my comms unit out of my ear.
“So what happened?” Ravil demands. He and Maxim stand together giving orders.
I don’t have the energy to explain. Not even knowing Ravil may punish or kill me. Nikolai comes up beside me and recounts the entire scene to them.
“So we have Kuznets, Stepanov, and two soldiers still at large,” Maxim says.
“If Kuznets even came. He may have just sent Stepanov to do the dirty work. Then he’ll claim he knew nothing about it,” Ravil says.
“The phones I hacked have been discarded,” Dima reports.
Ravil curses. “Do we think Kira will make contact with them?”
I shake my head. “No. She was on our side before…”
“Her motivation is the nephew,” Maxim reminds us, and a streak of relief runs through me as I realize I know exactly where she is right now.
“I told her where they were staying,” I say.
“That’s where she’ll go.” Ravil pulls out his phone.
I must have a death wish because I reach for it. Maxim shoves me back. “Let her go,” I say gruffly. “She’s not a threat.”
“That’s for us to assess,” Maxim reminds me.
“Offer her help, then,” I plead. “She has nothing with her–no phone or money, nor her passport. If we don’t want her to call Stepanov for assistance, we need to step in.”
“Oh, but I do want her to call Stepanov for assistance.” Ravil holds the phone to his ear. “How else will I kill the mudak?”
“Go and get her things,” Maxim says. “We’ll deliver them to the hotel for her.”
“After Dima installs trackers,” Ravil says.
“She won’t go to him.” I don’t know whether it’s true, or I just want it to be true. She may go running straight to her boss, considering what she now thinks of me.
Maxim points to the elevator. “Move, Maykl.”
I don’t, though. I’m having a hard time just remembering how to stand on my two feet. How to keep my heart beating. How to breathe.
Nothing feels natural anymore with Kira lost to me.
Dima comes to my side and takes my arm. “Come on. I’ll go with you to put the trackers in.”
Kira
I don’t realize how cold I am. The heat of betrayal propels me forward, along the lake, one foot in front of the other.
I can’t believe Maykl killed my father. Every horrible moment in my life has been wrought by the bratva. And the moment I start to think I can get past it, that I might actually be able to forgive and move on, I discover the man I was falling for murdered my father.
It’s just…too much to take.
I can’t even absorb the information. That’s why I ran.
Honestly, I don’t want to absorb it. I don’t want to think about it ever again. I just want to get the hell away from everything to do with the bratva.
Eventually, though, I stop and turn around. I’ve come a couple of miles, at least.
I don’t know where to go. What to do.
I turn out to face the lake, drawn to it. I walk down the sand beach to the shore. My tears are frozen to my cheeks. My fingers numb icicles.
I realize why I’m standing here. Because Anya’s out there. Her essence is cradled in that water.
“What would you do?” I whisper then instantly regret it. I know what Anya would do. Find a hit to numb her pain.
That’s when I remember Mika.
That he’s here to see me. In a hotel somewhere.
Blyad’, I have no money or phone to even take a bus anywhere. I walk back to the sidewalk.
“Excuse me?” I stop a couple on the street.
The woman gives me a frightened look. I’m sure I look strange in this Kevlar vest, with no jacket. My cheeks are probably bright pink, chapped from the wind.
“Do you have any idea where the Waldorf Astoria hotel is?”
The woman’s face clears. She points behind her. “It’s on the corner right there. At the end of this block, see the sign?”
It’s the first time anything has gone right for me on this trip.
“Yes, thank you.”
I shove the pain spearing my heart out of my awareness and just focus on Mika. I saw his photo. I know he’s alive. Hopefully the fact that he’s here wasn’t a lie.
The doorman holds the door open for me, and the warm air shocks my frozen skin. The lights are a glare to my eyes.
It’s late, so hardly anyone is around. I don’t even know who to ask for at the front desk. I could try Mika’s name, but I doubt it will work.
But then a man gets up from the bar and comes toward me. I don’t know him, but he must be bratva–I see the tattoos that creep above the collar of his expensive shirt. Plus, he’s carrying my purse and suitcase.