“You took the fall for her.”
I grit my teeth. “Not intentionally.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ava was fragile. This was never about sex for Yuri. It was a power trip. He was a Chernov by marriage and spent his life trying to prove he wasn’t part of his mother’s package deal. He was bad enough. There was no way she could’ve handled her father’s interrogation alone.”
“But something went wrong.”
My fists tighten again. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Sergei appears at the bottom of the steps, followed by a herd of his men. His eyes widen as he takes in Yuri’s lifeless body. “What the hell did you do to my step-son?” He nods to one of his guards, who checks him for a pulse. Finding none, the guard shakes his head.
Ava’s small body starts to shake uncontrollably, and I step in front of her. “Sergei, listen to me. It’s not what it looks like.”
“Not what it looks like?” he roars, his gaze trailing from Yuri to my hand. “What it looks like is that my boy is dead, and you are holding a knife dripping with his blood.”
“I didn’t do this!”
“No? Then who did?”
The last thing I want to do is implicate Ava, but she’s his daughter. Sergei’s an evil son of a bitch, but what father could punish his child for defending herself against sexual assault? If anything, he should wish he could’ve sent Yuri to hell himself.
I glance over my shoulder where Ava’s shaking has turned violent. “It’s okay. You can tell him.”
“Her?” Sergei’s deep laugh echoes throughout the damp basement. “The weak girl who hides in the attic all day. You think she did this?”
Ava’s head lolls to the side, and her body goes limp.
“Sergei, look at her.”
“I am, and I do not like what I see, Nikolai.”
“What?” I twist and stare at him, flinching at the lack of empathy in his voice. More than that, I’m cautious about what it means.
“Did Yuri try to stop you?” Sergei’s eyes are on fire, but his lips curl in a slight smile. “Is that why you killed him?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Guards!” Sergei raises his hand and men in black and red uniforms crawl out of the woodwork like ants. One of them grabs the knife and two others restrain me while one delivers a well-aimed punch to the kidneys. “Dmitry, my daughter’s innocence has been violated. Take Ava upstairs while the guards and I handle things down here.”
No! They can’t take her away from me!
“I’d never hurt her!” I yell, throwing kicks as I struggle in their hold. “I love her! Tell them, Ava!”
Sergei holds up a hand, and Dmitry stops beside him. “Yes, tell me, Ava,” he says, smoothing a hand over her hair. “Be a good girl and tell Papa—tell the truth. You have seen what I do to liars. Did he hurt you?” As his fingers reach the ends of her hair, he gives it a sharp tug. Ava’s shaking stops. Instead of fear in her eyes, there’s nothing. Instead of panicked gasps, it barely looks like she’s breathing at all.
And then she nods.
She fucking nods, and right there, something inside me dies.
“Ava!” I beg, knowing she won’t answer. All I get in return is a blank face.
I’m on my own. So many promises broken. I would’ve given my life for her, and because of her silence, I probably will.
Dmitry pulls her arm, dragging her toward the stairs. “Come, Miss Chernova. Let us get you cleaned up.”
When the basement door closes and Ava disappears, so do I. A new man is born. One without a heart, without a soul, and without mercy. One who believes trust is for the weak, and love is a four-letter word.
I spit a mouthful of blood as a guard drives a fist into my cheek. “You know I didn’t touch either one of them, you son of a bitch.”
Sergei glances from Yuri’s dead body to me, a cold smile splitting his face. “And who is going to believe you?”
He nods again and a flurry of boots and fists take me to the floor. The hits are relentless, one after the other until I’m almost unconscious. But I’m not stupid. This isn’t it. The worst is yet to come. I’ll pay for a sin I didn’t commit and eventually die a slow and painful death.
But if I live.
God help them both.
Mikhail rubs his chin. “It sounds like there is more you are not telling me.”
“What do you mean?”
“There has to be a reason she turned on you, and it is deeper than not wanting to go to jail. What she did was simple self-defense. Even a sixteen-year-old can comprehend that.” Digging a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket, he throws it on the table and stands up. “That girl is hiding something, comrade. The clock is ticking, and unless you find out what it is quickly, you will be left with only two options.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before turning to leave. I give him one anyway.
“Yeah, kill her, or sit back and let her railroad me twice.”
Niko
I left West Palm Beach with every intention of driving back to Okeechobee. I knew I needed to get back to Ava. It’d been four hours since I zip tied her arms and legs while she lay sprawled out asleep on the floor.
Like I said, I meant to head north, but instead drove south for another hour and fifteen minutes. Now, as I stand watching the glowing neon crimson sign, I wonder what the hell I was thinking.
I can’t walk into Seven. I know Sergei will be in his office, but it’s too risky. Just being here is risky, but there’s still a sadistic part of me that needs to confront him. Needs to prove he didn’t break me. That I’m stronger. That I’ve defied him again. That eight years have done nothing but fuel my bloodlust. That I’m about to tear down that house of horrors he lives in and display all his dirty little secrets.
But then my mind flashes back to Ava. If I go in there and confront Sergei, and something happens to me, no one will ever find her. Garrison Franko doesn’t exist, and as far as any map is concerned, neither does the property. Eventually, dehydration or starvation will claim her, and she’ll die right there on my living room floor.
Even killers have limits.
So I call him instead.
“Seven, this is Sasha speaking.”
“I want to speak to Sergei.”
She pauses, and I smile. It’s a pause of desperation. I shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I do, but I kill people for a living. I don’t get off on hugs and rainbows for fuck’s sake.
“I am sorry, he—he is not here,” she stutters. “I can get the manager for you.”
“If I wanted to talk to Dmitry, I would’ve asked for him. I know Sergei’s there, now put him on the phone.”
“Sir, the owner does not take calls.”
I see she’s not going to be as easy as I thought. I didn’t want to go this far, but she’s being a pain in the ass and my patience is wearing thin. “Sasha, that’s a pretty name.”
“Thank you.”
“Not as pretty as Viktoria. That’s your daughter’s name, right? Three years old, if I’m not mistaken. She’s with your mother right now in North Miami.”
There’s a muffled gasp on the other end of the line. “How did you…?”
“Put Sergei on the phone,” I demand. “Tell him it’s Nikolai. Don’t worry, he’ll take it.”
As expected, Sasha doesn’t say another word. The line clicks over, funneling in the irritating music being played in the club. I don’t know the song because I have fucking taste, but it’s giving me a headache. If Sergei doesn’t pick up soon, I might shoot my way—
“Nikolai, it is not nice to frighten my employees.”
I close my eyes, the sound of his thick Russian accent filling my ears. It’s as clipped and nasally as it was eight years ago, the sharp Rs still rolling hard off his tongue. Given half a chance, I’d be happy to cut it off for him.
“I’m not a nice guy, Chernov.”
A deep chuckle fills the line. “And to what
do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
He wants to play dumb. Well, whatever helps him sleep at night.
“Operation Delilah is complete.”
“I do not know of this Delilah.”
I swear the man shoots his brain cells out every time his dick blows a load.
“Everything is taken care of, Sergei,” I say, going a different route than, I killed your daughter like you paid me to, you dumbfuck. “You can sleep peacefully knowing that informational systems problem you were having has been taken care of.”
Clear enough for you, asshole?
“Oh, yes, very good. Be sure to keep this between us. I would not want my usual technician to know I contracted work behind his back.”
“Right.” I shake my head and turn to walk back toward the car.
“I will need to see my broken device.”
Wait, what?
I don’t take another step. “It’s broken, Sergei. I threw it away when I transferred your files to a new device.”
“Well, retrieve it, Nikolai,” he says, all pleasantries gone from his tone. “After all, how will I know it was truly broken if I cannot see for myself?”
He wants proof. He wants her dead body in his hands. He doesn’t believe I’d give her a pair of concrete shoes and dump her in a river, or better yet, feed her to a woodchipper.
The thing is, as much as I hate him, I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t believe me either.
“Fine,” I growl. “You’ll have to give me a few days. I’ll need to dig through the trash to find the pieces I have left.”
Son of a bitch. Now I’m going to have to kill some unfortunate redhead and deliver her in pieces to satisfy Sergei’s sick need to see his daughter’s corpse.
“Very well. Do what you can. In the meantime, do me a favor, Nikolai.”
“Yeah?”
“Do not ever step foot in my club again.”
He disconnects the call before I can respond, but it’s not like I care. I knew he’d find out I was at Seven while he was on his knees in Texas sucking whatever cartel dick would give him an alibi. Maybe I even counted on it.
Turning my back to the sounds of pounding bass and obnoxious yelling, I head to the parking deck when there’s a light tap on my shoulder. Instinctively, my hand reaches for the holster buried under my jacket when my eyes land on a tiny puff of strawberry blonde hair surrounding a pair of painted red lips.
“You’re Nick, right?”
“What?”
She taps a hand against her chest. “Rose, remember? You took me home.”
Let’s stop right here. Technically, I did not lie to Ava. I never said I killed her roommate. She did. I just didn’t bother to correct her.
“Right. Shouldn’t you be inside?” From the looks of her, she should already be on the pole. Little Rose is once again parading around like a piece of meat, this time in a hot pink rubber costume.
She glances down and blushes. “I’m between sets, but I was wondering if you’ve seen Ava.”
I keep my face expressionless. “Why would you think I’ve seen Ava?”
Shit. Motherfucking shit motherfucker.
“I just assumed that you two…” Her blush deepens and she chews on her lip. “I don’t remember drinking, but I guess I did because I ended up in Ava’s bed. When I woke up, she was gone. I thought maybe she was with you.”
I actually knocked your ass out with a hefty dose of Propofol, Rose, but thanks for taking the blame.
“I went home last night after dropping you off,” I say, cutting her off. Come on, Niko, pull something out of your ass. “You found a bottle of vodka in my car and had a one-woman party. I’m not surprised you don’t remember anything. You were pretty lit.” I raise an eyebrow, and her face heats with embarrassment. “Ava wasn’t there, so I helped you to the bedroom. Sorry, I thought it was yours.”
“Oh, well, thank you.”
I nod, thinking we’re done, but she doesn’t shut up.
“The thing is, she hasn’t come home or shown up for work. I’m worried about her.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.” I pat her head like an obedient puppy and turn to get the hell out of here when she grabs my arm. Reining in my irritation, I let out a sigh. “What is it, Rose?”
“Blade, our security guy, called us girls in for a meeting earlier. The police came by again, but this time it was to ask questions. One of our regulars was murdered a couple nights ago.” Her face pales to a sickly grayish color. “He was stabbed in his…”
Nuts. Ripped down the center and split wide open. Spewed like a geyser too.
She shakes her head, unable to finish. “It happened not long after he left here. Security cameras out back caught Ava and him in some kind of argument. She kneed him in the crotch, but she wasn’t facing the camera, so that’s all Blade saw. He ran off after that.”
“You think Ava—”
“No!” Her lips pucker as if she just sucked on a lemon. “Ava wouldn’t hurt a flea. I’m worried about her. What if the guy who killed our regular followed her home too?”
He didn’t. You hand delivered him right to her doorstep.
“Ava warned me to leave Seven, but I needed the money.” Looking over her shoulder, she stares up at the glowing red sign. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
There’s no way out of this. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll swing by your place and see if she’s there,” I say, wanting to stuff every word back in my mouth and chew them into dust.
Her big doe eyes widen. “You will?” Without warning, she leaps onto her toes and throws her arms around me. I have no idea what to do, so I pat her on the head again. “Thank you, Nick!” Quickly letting go, she digs into what I assume is supposed to be bra and produces a cell phone. “Oh, I almost forgot. Ava left her phone at work. I’ve kept it with me in case she tried to call it. If you see her, can you give it to her?”
No, but I’ll sure as hell take it off your hands.
“Sure, no problem.”
I take it from her offered hand and stare at it as she starts to jog back to the side entrance to Seven. She’s a good kid, talkative as shit and way too handsy for my liking, but still good. Unlike me. There’s a lot of life in her, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.
“Hey, Rose?”
She stops a few feet away from me and turns around.
“Let’s keep this conversation between us, okay? Dmitry’s not exactly my biggest fan.”
She nods, clamping her lips closed and turning an invisible key against them with her fingers before pretending to toss it over her shoulder. I almost feel guilty as her innocent face breaks out into a wide grin as she disappears around the back of the building.
Once I’m settled back in the leather seat of the Audi, I power on Ava’s phone and stare at the password lock screen. Four numbers. They could be anything, but only one set come to mind. The only thing Ava ever called “lucky” in her life.
The day we met. A ghost of a smile pulls at my lips as I punch them in one by one.
0-6-1-4
Nothing.
The only other significant date is the one that destroyed me. As the knowledge sets in, my smile cracks.
1-2-2-2
The screen comes to life, and I force myself to ignore the orange blossom wallpaper, so I won’t crush the damn thing against the steering wheel. I head straight for recent calls and texts.
“Okay, Ava,” I huff. “Mikhail thinks you’re hiding something. Let’s see if he’s right.”
Ava
They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. If that’s true, I’ve gone straight off the deep end twenty-two times.
That’s how many times I’ve pulled, yanked, and twisted the zip ties binding my wrists behind me and my ankles together. Obviously, it didn’t work. I’m still here in this house. Still bound. Still alone. The only thing I managed to do was cut my wri
sts and rub my ankles raw.
Smart, Ava. Real smart.
Exhausted, I roll onto my side and stare at the four wooden plank walls. I’ve counted each plank repeatedly, multiplied them together, then divided them so many times my head hurts. I look up, searching for the clock I know I won’t find. Just like the other eleven times I tried. The one thing I haven’t done is scream. I gave that up not long after Niko walked out and I heard him yell from outside the window, “Feel free to scream until your lungs burst, pchelka, but you might want to save them for when you’ll really need them.”
Nothing shuts a girl up faster than a well-timed threat.
Hours later, my limbs ache, and I’m so thirsty, the thought of water has overtaken everything else in my head. Who cares that I’m bound like cattle? Who cares I’m probably going to be tortured to death? All I can think about is that I haven’t had anything to drink since that damn bottle of wine almost twenty-four hours ago. Technically, that doesn’t count. Alcohol dehydrates a body, and I’m feeling every ounce of that fortified loss.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe dehydration made me act like I did with Niko.
That has to be it. There’s no other explanation for me throwing myself at the man who kidnapped me. The man who said he’d enjoy seeing me suffer. Lack of water altered something in my brain, twisting the line between pleasure and pain, and the one between love and hate.
I still at that last thought. I hate Nikolai Garetovsky, or Gaheris—whatever his alias is for the day. I hate him for not fighting harder to save me. I hate him for letting my father turn me into a whore. I hate him for hating me. But mostly, I hate me. I hate me because as hard as I want to make myself believe all of it, I don’t.
I don’t hate him. But I can’t love him. I won’t. Not again.
“Damn it!” I close my eyes and scream out of sheer frustration. Taking a deep breath, I twist my wrists for the twenty-third time, crying out as the plastic digs into my open wounds. The pain only spurs me on. I wiggle and squirm across the hardwood floor until my hip slams into the end table next to the couch, causing it to rattle.
Darkest Deeds: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 9