Her lips curl as she takes my hand again. “Good.”
Sofia Lutrova.
This is only the beginning, lyubov’ moya.
One Zappia down. The rest will fall in time, but first…
Never let a snake loose in Moscow.
Chapter 29
Fox
There are countless ways to die.
Some are more pleasant to think about than others. I don’t know anyone who would turn down a chance to go in the middle of the night, calm and warm, asleep in their own bed. In any case, it all ends once the heart stops. No heartbeat, no life. Everything else shuts down without the heart.
So, why am I still alive?
It’s beating, I suppose. But it’s not nearly as nourishing as it should be. It feels more like the ticking of a clock. A mechanical machine of rusted old parts just moments away from… stopping.
I’ve thought about ending it myself. It would be easy. I know how to make it painless, a luxury I’ve rarely afforded my victims.
But then I think of her, and I change my mind.
I drive slowly down the dirt road. These Iowan farm roads are a bit twistier than I expected they’d be, but at least it’s secluded. Civilization is long gone by the time I spot the farmhouse. Two stories tall. Pure, white paint. A single rocking chair on the front porch. Across from it lies an old cabin that appears as solid as the house itself. I can’t say the same about the rugged, old barn farther across the field.
I park the car between the house and the cabin. Gravel crunches beneath my boot as I step out. I immediately know I’ve made the right choice. The sound it makes is loud. It practically echoes on the wind before fading off into nothing. This kind of silence is exactly what I’m looking for.
“Can I help you?”
A woman stands in the front doorway, lingering safely behind the closed screen door. She’s older, possibly as old as my grandmother, and looks just as sweet. A husky dog sits at her feet with his snout pointed right at me, teeth slightly bared.
I quickly remove my hat and sunglasses to put her more at ease. I’m not here to make enemies.
“Hello,” I greet. “Are you Mrs. Clark?”
“Depends on what you’re selling,” she says.
“I’m not selling anything,” I say as I slowly reach behind me for the newspaper in my back pocket. “We spoke on the phone. I’m here about the rental.”
Her brow rises. “Fox?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She shifts to the side and casually sets her concealed shotgun down by the doorframe. “Sorry,” she says. “Can’t be too careful. A lot of dangerous guys out there.”
I smile. “I don’t blame you.”
“Sammy, stay.” She snaps her fingers twice at the dog as she opens the screen door. “I said, stay.”
The dog whimpers, obviously a little upset as she steps out onto the porch alone. I’d argue with him, but he’s just doing his job. Also, he’s not wrong. I can smell the blood on my hands, too.
Mrs. Clark steps down off the porch and gestures toward the cabin. “Wanna take a look at it?” she asks.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She walks with a steady gait, though it’s obvious that she’s favoring one side. Hip injury, I’d guess. Maybe arthritis. Other than that, she seems spry and, based on our previous phone conversation, mentally quick. Almost reminds me of Caleb.
We reach the cabin and she holds the door open for me.
“Thanks,” I say as I step inside.
I look around. It’s as small as it looks on the outside. One room just large enough for the old pull-out bed against the wall with a kitchenette and a half-bath behind it. Four walls, a roof, and miles of nothing on all sides.
Works for me.
“It ain’t much,” Mrs. Clark says, standing beside me. “But you’ve got wi-fi! And hot water.”
I smile. “It’s more than I’m used to.”
“The icebox is old, but it works. Little on the small side, so you’re welcome to keep some food in the house fridge if you need. I’ve got the extra space since I’m cooking for one nowadays.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You can decorate it however you want. I’ll let you know monthly about your share of the utilities.”
“All right.”
“You’re not planning on killing me in my sleep, are you?”
I blink in surprise. “No, ma’am.”
She smirks. “In that case, I’ll let you get situated. If you still want it, that is.”
I take another look around and nod. “I want it.”
“Okay, then.” She steps back toward the door. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got some beef stew in the Instant Pot.”
“Oh, no,” I say. “I don’t want to intrude.”
She raises a brow. “You’re paying over a quarter more than I asked for. I can put out an extra bowl for you now and then.”
I bow my head, genuinely taken back by her kindness. “Thank you,” I say.
She regards me with warm eyes. “Do you like movies?” she asks.
“Movies?”
“Movies. Films. Flicks.”
“Yeah,” I answer. “I guess.”
“I just got a new 60-inch,” she says, pointing a thumb back toward the house. “Figured I’d break it in with that new Night Trials movie later. You’re free to join me if you want.”
Night Trials.
I traveled miles across the world to the middle of nowhere, and I still can’t escape my past.
“Maybe,” I say.
“Just come knocking,” she says. “Otherwise, I’ve got a delivery of paint supplies coming in the morning. I’d appreciate some help moving that around.”
“I’ll be happy to.”
She smiles, her expression shifting slightly as she eyes the scar on my cheek. “It ain’t my business where you came from, kid,” she says, her tone still just as comforting. “I’ve never met a man who wasn’t hiding from something.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I merely nod once.
“I’ll leave you to it,” she says before walking outside.
“Thank you, Mrs. Clark.”
She smiles in the doorway and leaves. The dog instantly hops on his hind legs, excited to have her back in one piece, and she mutters something about how he better get used to me as she heads back inside the house.
I return to my car to grab the black duffel bag from the trunk. It’s still heavy with the money Luka gave me. If I can put it to good use making an old widow’s life easier, then I will. That almost makes me feel a little better about how I got it.
Almost.
I close the trunk and I take a deep breath. The air is cool and clear and, for the first time in years, calming. Between befriending the Russian mob and killing for Snake Eyes and fighting another man’s war, I haven’t had the chance to relax since I was a teenager. That might actually be possible out here. For a little while, anyway.
They’ll come looking. They might even find me.
When that happens, I’ll be ready.
I set the duffel on the bed and reach inside for the flash drive hidden between the stacks of cash. My copy of the master file is still encrypted, but I know a guy who might be able to help with that. I’ll keep it safe and close. A good insurance policy won’t hurt when that day comes.
A light came to me and, with it, a new life.
Tomorrow, it may come to you.
I hope you’re right, Sofia.
But I’m not holding my breath.
Chapter 30
Dani
Six Months Later
“Roxie!”
That’s not my name, but I’ve answered to it since I was sixteen.
“Yes, Dad?” I twist around and Lena drops the makeup brush from my cheeks.
My father’s eyes trail me up and down to check my appearance. It’s the same hard glance he’s given me every day since junior high when my looks started to matter more to him than
they did to me.
“Thanks again for doing this today,” he says. A navy-blue pantsuit isn’t exactly my regular style, but he seems satisfied with it. “This means a lot to your stepmother.”
I throw on a smile. It’s not like I had a say in the matter. He makes my schedule.
“I’m happy to do it,” I say.
“After this, we have that meeting with Bruckberg.”
Lena raises the brush again to wipe a bit more rouge along my cheekbone. I cringe behind it, hoping he doesn’t notice.
“Roxie…”
He noticed.
“I don’t want to hear about this again,” he says.
“I didn’t say anything, Dad.”
“This is a huge opportunity for you. You read the script, right?”
“Yes, I read the script.”
“And?”
“I hated it.”
“You hated it?!” He steps in closer and the anger lines on his face stand out even more, along with the speckles of gray in his black hair. “You don’t hate a Bruckberg script, Roxie.”
“Well, I did.”
He lets out an impatient breath. “Lola, could you not do that for a minute?”
She lowers her hand and steps away with a sour look.
“Her name is Lena,” I point out. “Be nice. She’s just doing her job, Dad.”
“Well, that makes one of you,” he says. “What are you doing, huh? You trying to kill your old man?”
“No.”
“What could possibly be wrong with it? The role is perfect for you.”
“The role is too safe,” I argue. “I’m sick of making the same movie over and over again.”
“That same movie earns you twenty million a pop, Roxie.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
He rolls his eyes. “Here we go…”
“I want to take on more—”
“Mature roles,” he interrupts. “Honey, I get it. I do. You want to be taken seriously.”
“Is that so wrong?”
He sighs. “Of course not. It’s just not part of our plan right now.”
Our plan. The plan I’m not allowed to have an opinion on.
I throw on a classic, sweet smile. “You’re right, Daddy. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”
“That’s my little star.” He leans in and kisses my forehead. “Get that girl back over here. Do something about the circles under your eyes.”
I watch him walk away, forcing the smile to stay on my lips until he rounds the corner down the hall.
“What an asshole.”
I spin around. “Lena!”
She shrugs. “What? You were totally thinking it.”
“He’s fired other assistants of mine for less.”
“Oh, you’d never tell him.” She pops open a bottle of foundation and smears a tiny drop under my eye. “You love me too much.”
I smirk. “No one does the smokey-eye quite like you do.”
“Damn straight.” She smiles. “Got any plans after your big Bruckberg meeting?”
“You tell me.”
“Looks clear. Maybe Daddy Dearest will let you out for the night?”
“Doubtful.”
“Well, give me a call if he changes his mind. There’s a great new place on Vine that just opened up. They’d kill for an A-list appearance to put them on the map.”
“I’d love to, but… wouldn’t hold my breath.”
“Let’s go, Roxie!”
Dad calls from down the hall and Lena drops the foundation into her bag. She takes a step back and studies me from my long, blonde hair down to the uncomfortable heels on my feet.
“You look lovely,” she says, smiling. “Go knock ‘em dead.”
“I always do.” I wink at her and spin on my heels to follow Dad around the corner.
“Remember, Roxie…” He places a hand on my back. “Just smile and nod. You don’t have to give your opinion on anything — and for heaven’s sake, don’t. The last thing we need is real politics.”
“Got it.”
“And try and dodge questions about you-know-who, all right?”
He grabs the doorknob and pulls it open before I can respond. Cameras flash, instantly blinding me. Hands comes together in thunderous applause. Every eye in the glistening ballroom falls on me.
“Roxie Roberts!”
I turn toward the old man’s voice, fighting the auras clouding my vision. “Senator Lamb,” I greet, recognizing his weasel-like tone from television interviews.
He slaps his hand into mine and shakes it with a furious whip. “Big fan! I just love those Night Trials movies!”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Cora speaks so highly of you.”
I glance around the room, smiling wide to please the cameras. “And she just adores you. Working on your campaign has made her so happy, Senator.”
“You, my darling,” he shouts in my ear, “you can call me Ronnie!”
I chuckle awkwardly, nearly losing my balance. I catch sight of Lena standing by, firing a sucks to be you glance at me. “Okay, then… Ronnie,” I say.
He pinches my cheek between two wrinkled fingers. “You’re the golden star of my campaign, after all!” He swings his arm around my shoulders. I immediately smell the potent aftershave on his face. “Ronnie and Roxie! It’s like fate!”
“Well, I’m happy to help.”
My cheek muscles burn. There’s only so long I can hold this grin on my face, but I have to keep my shit together here. It’s not every day you’re invited to stand beside the next President of the United States, should his current poll numbers be any indication.
“It’s for a good cause,” I add.
“There’s no better cause than supporting our troops!” he shouts, his voice stiff from rehearsing the line in front of a mirror. The general public may not notice, but I’ve done the same on many occasions and I’ve developed an ear for the tone. “And I’m sorry for your loss, Roxie.”
I wave a hand, hoping to dismiss the remark. “It was a long time ago, but thank you.”
Lamb leans in closer and cups my hands inside his. “I can’t imagine the pain your family must have gone through…”
I lean away, glancing around to make sure my father can’t hear this. “Really, it was—”
“For a member of your family to be killed in action like that. It must have been so devastating.”
“Right, but—”
“Your stepmother misses him so much.”
I keep my smile going, shoving as much emotion to the surface as possible to sell the lie. “I miss him, too.”
“Excuse me, darling,” he says, nudging my face. “I have to go give my speech.”
“It was nice to meet you, sir.”
He grins at me and fires a quick glance down my body for any chance at seeing cleavage before trudging through the crowd. They make a path for him as he moves toward the elaborate podium in the corner in front of a wall of bright, transparent windows showing off the Los Angeles skyline.
Campaigning for a presidential candidate isn’t exactly how I planned to spend my weekend. I have nothing personally against Lamb, but I don’t like getting involved with politics in general. It’s not my job to influence the ideologies and opinions of others. I’m Hollywood’s “It” girl. I pretend to be someone I’m not to entertain audiences for two hours and they walk away with a smile and an overpriced ticket stub.
Lamb takes the stage and holds his hands up, waving freely at his adoring public. He milks it for several moments, forcing the applause higher and higher. Finally, he settles at the podium and leans into the microphone.
“I could stand up here and rattle off some figures and percentages that show how wonderful I am — and I do plan on doing so — but first, I want to show off my new friend, Roxie.”
Oh, boy…
He points at me and all eyes follow. “Roxie, how about you come up here?”
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I grin — happy as a fucking clam and truly honored to be here — and walk through the crowd toward the stage. The applause pushes me forward until I meet him behind the podium. Once again, he throws his arm around me as if we’ve been friends for years and shows me off to the room.
“Roxie Roberts, ladies and gentlemen!” They clap even louder. I wave a delicate hand. “Ain’t she beautiful?”
They whoop and holler in agreement. I flash a modest face.
“I probably shouldn’t be mentioning this, but Roxie and her family know firsthand the sacrifice our boys overseas make every single day.” He nudges my ribs. “Go on, Roxie. What was his name, honey?”
I find my father in the crowd. His face twitches in frustration.
“Fox,” I answer, my heart skipping at his name. “His name was Fox.”
“Right, Fox,” Lamb continues. “Such a tragedy. Fox fought and died for his country, along with countless other men and women in our military and they deserve our support!”
The people clap harder. It’s obvious that he’s using our family’s tragedy to pick off a few more votes. There’s nothing I can do about it in my position, so I maintain my posture with a smile, trying very hard not to look at the disappointment on my father’s face while Lamb’s voice drones on.
Finally, he lets go of me. “Stand beside me, honey. You make me look good.”
Everyone laughs as I step off to the side.
The windows crash behind us, the sound piercing my ears.
I topple forward into the podium and it falls with me, narrowly missing the eager journalists as they scatter and scream in terror. I break my fall with my hands. My elbow twists the wrong way, and I yelp in pain as I fall the rest of the way to the floor.
More screams echo from all directions. I spin around to see Senator Lamb on his knees, forced down by two men dressed in black with tactical gear strapped to their chests and hips. Black masks obscure their identities as they stand over him with pistols in their hands, each one pointed straight to the back of his head.
I blink to sharpen my vision. Ropes hang down from the broken windows, attached to their belts. They must have propelled down from the roof and—
Killer Love Page 18