The Life (The Russian Guns)

by Bethany-Kris

  “Fuck this,” she heard Joe mutter.

  The telltale click clack of a gun resounded outside the car.

  It took Viviana less than a second to reach down between her legs with her shaking hands, fumbling to find the small handgun she knew should have been at her thigh.

  By the grace of fucking God, it was.

  At the same time Viviana’s arm lifted with the gun in hand, aimed at the figure outside the window, she watched with clearing vision as Joe raised his into it. Viviana didn’t have to think about her next move. There was no sadness or guilt over her choice, she didn’t even hesitate. This man would not take her life, he would not hurt her child.

  Instead, she remembered Roman.

  Get a better grip on that gun.

  You only get the one.

  Make it count.

  Don’t you blink about it, girl.

  The trigger pulled back smooth and easy under her finger. Viviana watched as the blaze and smoke from her gun clouded the car with a burst of light and grey. The scent of gunpowder choked her lungs at the same time a sob ripped past her lips. Joe fell back with a painful shout of shock, his gun dropping into the car with a clatter as his body hit the ground.

  Relief never felt so good, but Viviana didn’t have a clue if he was going to be able to get back up or not. She didn’t have the time to sit there and think it all over, either. Groping to unbuckle the belt that was keeping her confined, she somehow managed to find the latch. Bits of sharp glass scratched against her skin as she released the buckle.

  Viviana just started to crawl over the backseat as she heard Anton’s voice outside the broken window.

  *

  “Viviana!”

  The second gunshot exploded into the night just as Anton propelled his body over the side of the embankment.

  Fortunately, he’d been able to hear every word Joe shouted in English and Russian as he tried futilely to get inside the car. It must have been too dark for Joe to properly see inside the car, so the first shot had been nothing more than a failed attempt to shoot Viviana through the window. The bull’s words had echoed up to the dirt road Anton had been running down. It somehow urged him to move a hell of a lot faster, even though he had been able to tell by Joe’s words that Viviana was still alive.

  The second gunshot might as well have stopped his heart straight up.

  Anton landed on hard earth, a sting radiating up his left ankle as he hit down.

  Only one headlight in the SUV had survived the impact. It gave off just enough light for Anton to make out the wreckage. It was clear by the dents that now covered the black vehicle from the roof to the wheel wells that it had in fact rolled when it fell into the deep ditch. Every window was broken out, and it rested on the two passenger side tires while the driver’s side were a good half of a foot in the air.

  Rage flooded Anton’s body as he noticed the form sprawled out near the back of the SUV. Joe lay on the ground, clearly wounded as the rich color of crimson slipped down around his neck, soaking into the ground. Joe’s hands clutched up near his throat as his boots dug into the earth and the sweet music of his choking reached Anton’s spot.

  Viviana had one hell of an aim, Anton thought.

  The small handgun he gave her wasn’t that high of a calibre, but it would stop a man in his tracks if used correctly. Clearly his wife had used it correctly.

  Fuck, was he ever grateful.

  “Viviana?” Anton called her name again, ignoring the pain in his ankle as he moved closer to the SUV.

  “I-I’m here … Please get me out of here, please. The door won’t open.”

  The beautiful sound of his wife’s voice, strained but alive, was the only thing needed to make Anton move. “Oh, baby. I’m coming. It’s okay.”

  He crossed the space, jumping over the small creek of water in one fluid swoop, and made it to the side of the SUV in seconds. Viviana’s hands came out of the window at the same time his went in.

  For a single moment, Anton just needed to touch Viviana. To feel the warmth of her flesh, hear the sounds of her breaths, and see the life blinking back in her brown eyes. Anton simply needed to know she was there—okay, healthy, alive. That was all. Even in the darkness of the SUV he could see where she’d bruised up her cheek in the accident. A few scratches dotted up the side of her jaw, glass littered the black strands of her hair, and blood was smudged on her brow and hands.

  Anton didn’t give a shit about the blood on her mouth when he kissed her through the broken window. The tears making rivulets down her cheeks smeared onto his. Anton shushed tenderly against her lips, feeling the trembling in her shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “The baby?” he asked.

  Viviana sobbed brokenly, but shook her head. “Everything’s fine, I promise. Please just get me out of this car. I can’t breathe in here.”

  Anton didn’t waste any time doing what she asked. The door had been crushed shut, but the window was more than big enough to get her out. Being mindful of the shards of glass still around the opening he pulled Viviana out from the back. Cradling her to his chest, Anton stood there holding his wife for long enough to tell her over and over that she was okay. Viviana buried her face into his neck and started to cry low, with hiccupping sniffles that wracked her form all over.

  “Shh,” he said against her hair. “It’s all right, I’ve got you.”

  “Vivi-viana … Vine?”

  Anton felt the air he’d been holding in release. Rory had survived the car rolling over and Joe coming down on them, too. Somehow. Anton hadn’t checked the other bull, but he was more concerned over getting his wife out first.

  “Rory, you okay?” Anton asked loudly.

  Anton listened as glass was brushed off, Rory groaned painfully, and then the man’s head popped out of the driver’s side window. He had one hell of a bump on his forehead, a bloodied up lip, and few scrapes and bruises. The accident had only knocked him out, luckily. But that bump was a good sign he might be concussed, too.

  Rory clamoured out of the broken window, landing to the ground with a thump. The man sat there, head in his hands, and stared at the ground, saying nothing.

  The gurgling coming from three feet away reminded Anton of Joe.

  And his wife in his arms.

  Viviana tried to look in Joe’s direction, but Anton wouldn’t let her. The last thing she needed was to see the damage she’d caused.

  “Rory, I need you to get up. Can you do that?” Anton asked.

  Anton had very little time left with Joe.

  “What’s that, Boss?”

  By the slight slur in Rory’s words, it was obvious he likely was concussed.

  Anton set Viviana to the ground. She shook her head frantically, trying to keep her grip on his shirt, but something stopped her and she let out an awful howl of pain. Instantly, Anton was checking over his wife to find what the problem was. Pushing down the mink fur over her right shoulder, he found it.

  “Shit.” Anton breathed heavily at the sight of Viviana’s shoulder, bruised, swollen, and out of place. His fingers ghosted along the joint. “Okay, it’s not too bad.”

  Yeah, that was a lie. It was going to hurt like hell.

  “Ow.” Viviana whined with wetness in her eyes. “That doesn’t look good.”

  “Yeah, yeah I know. Probably hurts a lot. Just popped out, that’s nothing severe that I can’t fix. Did you hit it?”

  “Twice,” Viviana said with a wince.

  “This is going to hurt, but it’ll be quick. On three, take a breath. When it hurts, let it out. Okay?”

  Viviana nodded, but Anton could see her fear. Holding her left side to his chest, Anton wrapped his left arm around her shaking frame, then used his right to gram firmly to her arm just above her elbow. Keeping her steady so she couldn’t squirm, he counted back quickly and when her sharp inhale echoed, he clenched his eyes shut and slipped her shoulder back into joint.

  Nothing could have muffled the agonizing
scream she let loose.

  Nothing.

  Over and over, Anton apologized. Clasping her face between his palms, he kissed away the fresh round of tears.

  Viviana’s shout must have been enough to wake Rory from his stupor because the young man was stumbling over. Just coming up behind Anton’s wife, the bull spared a glance at his former counterpart still choking on blood three feet away.

  “Damn, you get him?” Rory asked.

  Anton shook his head over Viviana’s shoulder but said nothing else. It was enough. Rory seemed to get the point, clearing his throat and leaving the rest of the words unsaid. There was no need to remind Viviana, and she still hadn’t tried to look again so she must not have wanted to know, either.

  “Here, Boss, I’ll take her.” Rory held his arms out before jerking his chin up at the embankment. “It’s not too high. How far is the car?”

  “Three minute run behind Joe’s SUV. Get her settled and come back with the gas can in the back of my car.”

  Rory didn’t argue and neither did Viviana.

  Anton waited until they were rounding the top of the embankment before he moved over to Joe. He kneeled down beside the man’s head, ignoring the blood that soaked through his pants. Joe was still clutching for dead life at the bullet wound in his throat. Blood pumped out around his fingers with every beat of his heart. A bluish tint had started to color Joe’s skin and lips. Blood vessels were beginning to burst in his eyes while capillaries had expanded and bulged in his face.

  It was hard fucking work to suffocate while you bled out, then choke on the same blood you were losing.

  Yes, hard work indeed.

  Anton felt nothing while Joe struggled for life and breath.

  If anything, Anton was enjoying it.

  With wide eyes filled with horror, Joe watched as his boss said nothing.

  More than anything, Anton wanted to chuckle at the bull’s plight.

  No amount of pressure on the injury would save him. No medical intervention would help him, now. No, Joe was too far gone and there was no doubt in Anton’s mind that the man on the ground knew it, too.

  “Viviana did this to you. Can you believe that? Hell, I bet you didn’t expect this, Joe. Did you think I wouldn’t protect my wife every way that I could?” Anton asked darkly. “Of course I would, Joe. Of course she would carry a weapon. Of course I would take that risk. She’s my wife, and unlike you, I love her.”

  Anton reached out with both hands, forcing the bull to remove his hands from the gunshot wound at his throat. The gurgling and choking became louder instantly and blood spurted. Anton refused Joe access to put pressure back on his injury.

  In a flash, Anton squeezed Joe’s throat with one hand, letting go of the hands he’d been holding down at the same time. With his other hand, Anton pinched Joe’s nose so he couldn’t receive air for his airways through there, either. Blood spit out from Joe’s mouth while he scratched, clawed, and fought weakly against Anton’s hold.

  “I’m going to watch you die,” Anton said with a smile. “Poetic justice, in my opinion. Your betrayal very well could have cost me my best friend, my wife, and my son. I don’t appreciate that. When you’re dead, I’ll put you in that SUV you caused to wreck, and light your ass on fire. It’ll probably be blamed on one of my enemies when they do manage to find you. Who knows how long that will take? I don’t care so long as you are dead.”

  Joe suffocated a little more, his eyes widening as the bluish hue to his lips spread outwards along his mouth. The life was starting to blink from Joe’s eyes. There was no more air for him to breathe with the blood filling his air passages.

  He was drowning in his own blood.

  No, Anton didn’t care a bit.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Viviana listened as the beautiful music of her baby boy’s heartbeat filled the master bathroom. Coming out of a handheld fetal heart rate monitor, the noise was similar to the clatter of hooves on the ground. Resting her head back against the vanity’s mirror, she sighed.

  “His heart rate is normal. Everything sounds fine,” Sasha said, watching the heart rate number light up on the Doppler. “You’re not contracting at any real length or severity, so I don’t think you have to worry about him coming for at least another couple of days. Some women have this for several days before active labor starts. I’d say this is early, if at all. Very, very early. You can still do whatever you normally would and have no worries so long as you’re comfortable.”

  When Sasha moved to take the Doppler away, Viviana shook her head, feeling her own heart speed up at the prospect of losing that sound. “Please don’t. Not yet.”

  Sasha offered her an understanding smile. “Okay. We can do that. It’s not like it’s going to hurt him.”

  There was definitely some benefits to having a nurse as your mother-in-law. Viviana hadn’t wanted to drag Sasha from Daniil’s side when they finally returned home, but she knew they didn’t have much of a choice. Taking Rory into an Emergency Room wouldn’t be a smart option if they wanted to keep a low profile about the accident, and Viviana had only suffered a few minor bruises and scrapes.

  What she had been more concerned about was the baby.

  Now, she was worrying about Anton.

  Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her husband was stoic and silent with his arms crossed over his chest. Blood had stained his clothes and skin, but Anton hadn’t made a move to clean it off yet. In fact, he hadn’t done a whole hell of a lot but stick close to her since they returned home.

  Viviana understood his need to be close, but Anton wasn’t speaking much, either.

  It probably didn’t help that there seemed to be an underlying tension rolling thick between Sasha and Anton. They barely looked at one another, which wasn’t something Viviana was used to. In fact, Sasha hadn’t even said hello to her son when she arrived.

  “Is that good?” Sasha asked, bringing Viviana from her thoughts.

  “Huh?” Glancing down at the Doppler, Viviana smiled. “Yeah, that’s great. Thanks for coming to help.”

  “I think I’ll stay for a little while longer and keep an eye on Rory downstairs.” Sasha shrugged as she wiped the gel from her daughter-in-law’s stomach before helping her to fix her dress. “But, say nothing about it … literally.”

  Anton coughed. “You know we wouldn’t, Mom.”

  Those were the first words he had spoken in an hour. Viviana was surprised he spoke at all, really. Clearly Anton was struggling with something, but he was battling it alone. She wished he wouldn’t.

  Sasha sighed heavily, packing up the kit she’d brought along. “Keep your arm in that sling,” she told Viviana. “Keep pressure off of it.”

  Viviana’s shoulder was still aching something awful, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. While she knew popping it back into place would hurt, she hadn’t expected it to hurt quite that much. It was almost like bone smashing into bone. There was nothing to soften the blow and she wished she could just forget about it.

  “Other than that …” Sasha continued, plucking up some gauze and peroxide, “let’s get to work on cleaning some of these scrapes and getting the rest of this glass out of your hair, huh?”

  “I’ll do it.” Anton took a step into the bathroom, his gaze flashing to his wife and then his mother. “It’s fine.”

  “Anton, I’m not going to hurt her.”

  “I didn’t—” Furrowing his brow and clenching his fists at his sides, Anton released a shaky breath before shaking his head. “I can do it. She’ll need to get out of those clothes, take a shower, and whatever else. I’d be more comfortable taking care of it myself.”

  “And what about Viviana, son? I don’t know what happened tonight, but perhaps she might need some time to adjust and absorb it all before …” Sasha trailed off, glancing away with a guilty expression when Anton scowled. “I’m sorry,” she added quickly.

  “I didn’t intend for her to be hurt!”

  “I’m
not,” Viviana said, wanting to reassure Sasha’s fear.

  Sasha acted as if her daughter-in-law hadn’t said a thing. “I don’t mean her physical state. Emotionally she might need a minute alone. You could give it to her, that’s all I meant.”

  “And what about me, Mom?” Anton asked. “Do you think it was easy for me to be there, to feel it, or to see it? Why are you angry with me right now?”

  Sasha dropped the first aid kit to the counter, sadness clouding her features. “Did I say I was angry with you, Anton?”

  “Then why argue with me?”

  Viviana begged her mind to catch up to speed and figure out something to say or do to stop her husband and his mother from snapping at one another like they were. It wasn’t often, if at all, that it happened. Anton had a great deal of respect for his parents. Whatever this was seemed to be laced with something else Viviana couldn’t possibly understand.

  “I’m sorry I screwed up,” Anton told Sasha. “God, Ma, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know, okay?”

  “You think playing with guns and being what you are makes you so infallible. Like nothing’s ever going to hurt you, Anton. You’re not even in the same world anymore. I can’t count the times I said this to your father and asked him to stop. Don’t bring this home to me, don’t hurt me with it. You’re doing the same damned things he did! Did nothing I ever tell you reach your ears? Open your eyes.”

  “They are!” he shouted. “Do you think I wanted this, really?”

  “It’s all you’ve ever—”

  “I didn’t want this, Ma,” Anton interrupted, shoving his clenched fist into his chest.

  “You’ve been pulling these stunts since you were fourteen-years-old. Your father’s been doing it for a lot longer. Every time one of you does something like this, it kills me. I’ve been cleaning this crap up for years; I’m sick of it. And you have the nerve to say you didn’t want this? Don’t start that with me, Anton. Get out and let me clean up another mess for the Bratva. God knows I’m used to it by now.”