“Be careful,” Axel says in a firm voice and kisses my head. “Be. Careful. Understood?”
“Understood.”
We join the others. They are settled on their bikes. Gunner is taking Kolya and Blaze is taking Grant. Ziggy and Boulder will go in Jax’s car. Boulder is talking to Mac over the phone.
An electrified invisible cloud surrounds us. The boys’ faces resemble emotionless masks. We are ruthless. We are evil. We are monsters. We are going to kill. There will be no mercy just the bodies of our enemies to burn.
The engines of the bikes roar and the hell begins.
Chapter 16
Brianna
I shuffle to Athena’s place as my stomach flutters. I retch and press my hand against my tummy. My heart pounds in my chest. Tears form a grey wall in front of my eyes and I can’t breathe.
A subtle feeling of upcoming doom settles on the edge of my consciousness.
Suddenly, I find myself in front of a burgundy door and Athena opens it for me. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying.
“Come in,” she squeaks.
I step inside and follow her to the kitchen. Amanda and Sive are sitting at the table.
“This is so fucking unfair,” I explode.
“Sit down,” Amanda growls at me.
I shudder at the tone of her voice and take a seat next to her. Athena takes out a mug from a white cupboard and checks it five times whether it’s clean or not. I guess she’s as nervous as I am. As my drink arrives on the table, Amanda holds my hand.
“Our Father,” Amanda starts.
“That’s ridiculous,” I hiss. “God won’t help them. We should ask Devil to help them instead.”
“Pray,” Amanda says in a cold voice and squeezes my hand, causing me pain. “And compose yourself, you little girl. You’re part of this whether you want to or not. Pray for your husband so that he’ll return to you in one piece.”
“Right,” I say. “I can only pray now.”
Sive nudges my chest with her elbow then wraps her arm around my back. I rest my head on her shoulder.
A realisation courses through me like an arrow of lightness. This is my life. I was condemned to this life at birth. I had no choice. Ever.
I can accept the way things are for me or flounce like a fish in a net.
So I decide to accept it. I will squeeze my happiness out of this dangerous life. I will love my husband, accept him for who he is. I will support him as the president of the club because the club is part of him. I will never demand that he makes choices he can’t make.
My husband is a good and honourable man. He is trying to save my parents now, putting his own life at risk. I’m proud to be his wife.
I promise myself that I will always have hope. I will always have courage.
Then I just want my husband to come back to me in one piece.
All the women around the table are united. Strength and power radiate from us and through us. We have courage. More courage than our men. It’s easier to die. It’s harder to live when your loved ones die. It’s easier to act. It’s harder to wait.
Zane
The corridor is high enough to allow us to crawl in a queue. Kolya is moving in front of me, gasping like all the boys, swearing in Russian. The putrid smell of decay and rats makes my stomach cramp. I retch and cough. Kolya chuckles.
“We’re close, mal’chik,” Kolya says and rasps out saliva.
I want to growl ‘fuck off’ but my nausea strips me of the ability to do so. Fucking hell. That secret passage is the worst of Samael’s ideas ever. Like he couldn’t build something wider. And with a better ventilation system.
My heartbeat accelerates as sweat pricks my forehead and trickles down my temples. Salt invades my eyes and makes my lips burn. A few wet wisps of my hair cling to my cheeks. It’s getting hotter and hotter.
I hear Axel retch behind me and stifle my laughter.
“Suka, bliad,” Kolya mutters.
We reach the end of the passage and Kolya’s torch casts a streak of light onto a trap door secured with a push button lock. Very fucking movie-like.
I think Gunner has just thrown up and Mac has put his hand into the vomit.
“Shut up, you fucking pussies,” Kolya growls and opens the trap door.
A wave of cool air hits my nostrils like liberation. Like the exhale of life.
We go up through the square hole and find ourselves in the basement. The sound of heavy footsteps and commands in Russian comes to my ears from above my head. They’re muffled by the ceiling of the basement.
“They’re in the main hall,” Kolya says quietly.
I take out my knife as my blood turns into ice. I don’t feel anything except the urge to kill. It’s like my personality has split. I’m a murderous instinct. Nothing more. My human part is hidden deep in my subconscious.
Kolya waves his hand at us and guides us towards wooden stairs and a metal door opening into a cramped storage room filled with brooms and vacuum cleaners. We pour out of it into the kitchen, spread like an army of shadows. Everybody knows what to do. We are going to kill. We will spare no life. All the enemies must die. We will act quietly and precisely. We are the Shadow Wolves, after all.
When Dad was the president, he was very strict about mastering the body, about working out every day. He taught us to carry our own body weight properly, just as his Japanese teacher had taught him. That’s why we’re like shadow wolves.
I will teach my son if I have one to move like this too. I will teach him to be proud and honourable just like my Dad taught me.
Boulder is an eccentric. He spent three years, attending his Japanese sensei’s school, after his mother had died. She was a Slovakian aristocrat who had to escape from her country after the World War 2 had ended and the communist regime there started to threaten the people like her.
She fell in love with a Scottish gangster. What a story. What a love. What a fucking mesalliance.
Ma always laughs that Axel, Dad and I inherited our crudeness, intelligence and love for living on the edge from my grandfather.
My grandparents rest in the burial ground where Dash was buried. Boulder’s sensei has his gravestone not far from them.
I move at a steady pace, my muscles taut, my mind cold and sharp. Then my eyes fish a tall figure out of the dimness spread around me, and I tackle one of the Bratva assassins from behind. He groans as my knife slits his throat in one precise motion. Axel removes the corpse and hides it in one of the rooms then gestures to me to move forward.
I take out my gun as we move along the dark corridor towards the main hall. Axel goes first and stops, hiding behind a column. He peers from behind it to assess the numbers and shows us ten fingers.
Kolya swings his hand and throws a gas grenade into the main hall. A hissing sound tears at the air. Then a dense grey smoke starts spreading in the air. Tears blind my eyes as I cover my mouth and nose with the bandana and move forward. I inhale the smoke and my lungs feel like they’re on fire.
Gunshots reverberate in the air. People start shouting. I can barely see but that doesn’t stop me from putting a bullet into one of the enemies’ skull. I slit another throat. I stab an anonymous chest.
Somebody’s fists slam into my back, pushing me onto my knees. A foot kicks me in the side of my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs.
Rage fills my veins. I roll on the floor then jump to my feet and deliver a punch into my attacker’s abdomen. It throws him at the wall.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a blurry outline of a body on the floor. I recognise Samael. He raises his head and shakes it angrily.
Axel leans over him and manipulates the strings on his wrists.
A punch sends me onto the floor and somebody’s body crushes mine. Fuck. The dick is massive and I haven’t been focused enough. His hands strangle my throat and I see redness in front of my eyes.
My lungs demand oxygen. My mind fills with an image of Brianna’s face. Something sharp digs into
my chest. Burning pain seizes my insides.
A thought slams on my brain. Brianna will be so fucking furious with me.
Chapter 17
Brianna
We pray for three hours. The three hours filled with dreadful eternity. The three hours of my rapid heartbeat, shaking hands and dark thoughts.
Amanda smiles at me with warmth. “You’re not stupid, Brianna. You know what to do. My son has made a good choice in life.”
Pride fills my chest. Amanda’s acceptance matters to me. Zane respects her and I want to respect her too.
Then Athena’s phone tears us out of our sacred bubble.
She answers it and looks at me with deadness in her eyes. Her hand searches for mine and she rises to her feet, knocking the chair over.
“We have to hurry,” she says.
I don’t emit a single sound. My breath stops in my throat as an agonising pain courses through my chest like a knife has stabbed me. It’s about Zane. I just know that.
Athena drags me to Amanda’s car and the three of us get in. Sive needs to stay with her baby. Her cadaverous face is still wavering in my head as Amanda starts the engine and the car shoots forward. There is a mortal silence, but none of us cries.
I die even though I’m alive. Then I die again, my heart pounding in my chest; the whole world is pounding around me. And I die again. Nausea rolls over my stomach.
We park in front of my father’s house after half an hour. Athena helps me get out of the car then drags me along the path stretching from the gate to the main door. My legs feel spongy as does my brain.
We climb the stairs and step into the main hall. A nauseating odour whips my nostrils. This is the odour of death tinged with something sharp, irritating my throat. I freeze as my eyes roam over the men gathered in the hall. Blood covers them, dark and shimmery. Grotesque like my worst nightmares. Bruises mark the men’s pale faces.
One of Grant’s cops is zipping up the black bag with Ziggy’s body inside. I can’t see Kolya or Mac so I assume they’re dealing with the corpses.
My father and Grant are talking about something but I can’t discern the words. Bruises and swelling mark my father’s face and he’s nursing his left arm. Blood dribbles from his nose.
Jax and Axel are sitting on the floor. Boulder is sitting on the stairs, his eyes filled with something primal. I think it’s fear.
My eyes travel to Zane lying on the floor. A pond of redness glitters around him.
Two paramedics, a man and a woman, are reanimating him. I’m surprised with my own reaction at the sight of my husband lying like this, showing no signs of life.
I should be hysterical, but I’m not. Emptiness takes possession of my mind. My body is weightless like I’m a spirit. The words ‘asystole’ ‘checking the rhythm’ drift to my ears like whispers as I teeter between death and life with my husband.
The sound of a bone breaking tears through me like a harpoon has pierced me.
“For God’s sake,” Athena yells. “You’ve just broken his ribs.”
The paramedics don’t pay attention to her words. They give Zane chest compressions in silence then put the pads of the defibrillator on his chest and check the monitor. It shows a flat line.
“Asystole,” one of the paramedics says and they continue with the chest compressions.
“What does that mean?” I whisper to Athena. “You’re a doctor. Tell me what is going on. In movies they administer an electric charge when there is a flat line.”
“If there is a flat line it means asystole,” Athena explains in a dry voice. “Only CPR and drugs. Not like in all the movies.” She moves closer to the paramedics and Zane and watches the monitor.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I murmur, following her.
Athena flashes me a pale smile and squeezes my hand with hers. Then her face grimaces like she’s in pain. I guess I have my answer.
I didn’t need to ask her to know it’s bad. Zane’s skin looks pale like there is no blood inside him. His body moves under the hands of the paramedic like he’s a mannequin.
A subtle sense of loss wafts through me. I feel like I’m standing in the burial ground in the garden and visiting the graves of my grandparents. Like the border between life and death has already appeared between me and Zane.
The paramedics stop the chest compressions and check the rhythm as Athena fixes her eyes onto the monitor.
“Asystole,” the female paramedic says again.
“Hold on,” Athena growls. “I can see fine VF.”
The three of them stare at the monitor for an instant.
“Asystole,” the male paramedic says.
“No,” Athena says in a sharp voice. “It’s very fine VF. I’m sure. Defibrillate him.”
The paramedics freeze as Axel rises to his feet and aims his gun at them.
“Do as she’s telling you,” Axel rumbles.
The paramedics exchange glances and deliver an electric shock. Zane’s body moves up and down and it feels like every atom of my body has been electrocuted.
I lower down to the floor, my legs and bottom contaminated with blood as the chest compressions resume. Another rib breaks and I emit a small scream, my palm covering my mouth. Then the paramedics check the rhythm again.
Everything freezes and second is eternity.
“We have a sinus rhythm,” the female paramedic says in a bright voice.
Athena moves closer to me and wraps her arms around me.
“What does that mean?” I shriek.
“He’s alive,” Athena says as she helps me stand up and shoves me towards my husband.
I stand behind the female paramedic and watch my husband being moved onto the stretcher. The sight of all the tubes stuck in his body makes me almost choke. The paramedics tilt their heads at me and we walk towards the ambulance. I hold Zane’s hand and squeeze it gently.
“Everything will be fine, baby,” I shriek. “I’m here with you. Just come back to me. Come back to me. I’m your wife, right? Just let me be your wife.”
Chapter 18
Brianna
Zane has spent six weeks in the intensive care unit and now he’s at home. Except it is as though he hasn’t returned from the hospital. His body has returned for sure, the wound in his chest healed some time ago, but his mind is still wandering in oblivion. For the majority of the time, he’s sitting in the armchair and staring at the window. I’m talking to him all the time; we can see each other, but it’s as though a glass wall of endlessness is separating us entirely.
He has some problems with moving around. Athena said that the part of his brain responsible for balance had been damaged during the resuscitation.
“The lack of oxygen,” she said.
His hands are trembling almost all the time and his right leg is a bit weaker so he needs a walking stick.
Dark thoughts sometimes torment me. Maybe God punished me because I trampled Zane’s love for me in the very beginning.
I put two mugs on the table and the aroma of coffee spreads in the air.
“He can sometimes recognise me,” I say as my throat tightens. “But for the rest of the time his mind is somewhere else, far from here.”
Athena covers my hand with hers. “We know very little about human brain, how it works, how it regenerates. The neurons may regenerate. Don’t lose hope. He may get better with time.”
“I hope so. It’s just—“
“Difficult?”
“Frustrating and difficult. It’s like his body is here but he’s not present. Like I have him and I don’t. I should take a nursing course or something. It would help I guess.” I fall silent, flinching in shame.
What a terrible wife I am. I’m moaning like I’ve been looking after Zane for twelve years not for twelve weeks.
Athena glances at me with warmth. “Have you tried to talk to him, to read to him? To touch him?” She never judges other people. She helps, gives a piece of advice, accepts.
With her background, I exp
ected her to feel superior to other people, but no, she’s a bit shy, wise but modest. Warm.
“I talk to him,” I say. “And sometimes it’s like he’s back, you know. We kiss and he smiles but then he’s an empty shell again.”
Athena nods at me. “Sive prays for Zane and you every day.”
“I need to hug her. She is very helpful. Amanda as well. You’re very helpful.”
“Brianna.” Zane’s voice comes from our bedroom.
I rise from my chair and run to him, nudging the red rug lying on the wooden floor of the corridor with my foot. As I enter the bedroom, my glance travels to Zane. He is sitting on the floor with his legs splayed, looking like a lost kid.
I move closer to him and squat down between his knees.
“What is it, baby?” I ask as I sit on my heels.
“Are you my wife, Brianna?” There is a flicker of anxiety in his eyes.
“I am. I’m here with you. Always.”
“Are you going to stay with me?”
“Zane, baby, of course I’m going to stay with you. We will have a baby in four months. You will be a father soon. We’re a family.” I cup his face in both my hands and kiss his lips then put his palm on my pregnant belly, which seems to soothe him. “Do you want to sit in the armchair?”
Zane looks at me as though he doesn’t understand what I have just said to him so I add, “You’re going to sit in the armchair now. It’s very comfortable.”
He nods at me so I grip his arm and help him stand up. He drops into his seat and I see that his mind drifts far away from me.
Frustration bubbles in my chest and I want to throw a plate at the wall. Each time, he’s lost in his mind, I feel like a fucking widow.
Somebody’s arm wraps around my back as tears well up in my eyes.
“He will be fine,” Athena says into my ear as I meld into her body with my chest shaking. “He wants to be fine.”
I pull away, lean over Zane, kissing his cheek then Athena and I return to the kitchen.
“He likes it when you’re touching him, Brianna.”
My hands tremble. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too.”
Brianna (Shadow Wolves MC Book 2) Page 12