Page 90 of My Crazy Killers
Even though I’m surrounded by men in this SUV, my best chance of escape is now, before we get back to his house. I don’t see any other vehicles following or ahead of us. I have one knife left, strapped to my ankle under my pants. I can’t reach for it right now; they’d notice before I even get my pant leg pulled up.
I need to be smart about this. I glance at the door beside me and wonder if I can open it and roll out. It could be my best chance to get away. If I couldn’t kill Ivan, running would be the next best choice.
“I must say, I’m a little surprised to see you’re still in Russia,” Ivan finally says. “I thought you’d be back in the States by now.”
“I had some unfinished business to attend to,” I tell him with narrowed eyes, which only makes him grin.
“Ah, I feel honored,kukolka.” I hate when he calls me little doll; it feels condescending and makes me want to stab him that much more.
We turn another corner, and I recognize the area as a busier part of Moscow. If I were going to try to run, this would be the place to do it. I could blend in, and he probably wouldn’t risk shooting with so many people around.
Luck is on my side as we start to slow for a red light. I don’t waste my chance, grabbing the handle and shoving the door open.
“Grab her!” Ivan yells as I throw myself out of the vehicle, landing awkwardly on my shoulder. I ignore the pain, pushing to my feet as I run across the street and onto the sidewalk.
There are a handful of people around, but I wouldn't call it busy. I just hope it’s enough. I glance back and see Sergei blocking the door I just exited, somehow making it look like he lost his balance. Is he helping me again? Suddenly, Viktor shoves him out of the way and makes a dash for me. I yelp in surprise, then start running.
Turning down the first street I find, I curse myself when I see it’s deserted, but I don’t have time to turn back when he’s right on my heels. I move to cut across the street as a vehicle screeches to a stop in front of me. I slam my hands against it, then quickly move around it as I keep running.
Somehow, through a series of quick turns, I seem to lose Viktor, only slowing to catch my breath when I reach the end of a street that connects back to the main one. I pull my knife free, feeling better now that I’m finally armed, as I press my back to the brick wall and take a few deep breaths.
I hear loud footsteps right before Viktor appears in front of me, looking angry as hell. “Found you,” he says with an evil glint in his eyes. He reaches for me just as I raise my knife high, and he walks right into it. His eyes widen in surprise as it sinks into the middle of his neck.
He stumbles back, taking my knife with him as he goes. He grabs the handle and yanks it out, making his blood spray all over me, and I wince as I take a step backward, nausea rolling in my stomach. The knife drops from his hand, clanking against the sidewalk as he clutches his neck. Blood pours down his front as he sinks to his knees, the red liquid gargling out of his mouth until he finally collapses backward, dead.
I pant heavily, not believing I just did that, and take a second to breathe before I remind myself I’m not out ofdanger yet. I take his holstered gun and check the chamber, finding it full.
Nodding to myself that I can do this. I can stay hidden until the guys find me.
I peek around the side of the building, and not seeing any sign of Ivan or the SUV, I step out. I’ve taken only a couple of steps before someone screams, pointing at me as they run away. I glance down. “Right, I’m covered in blood and holding a gun. This doesn’t look good.”
I curse myself for not thinking this through, blaming the fist to my head for such a stupid mistake. I turn back around, ready to go back down the empty street where Viktor is, but stop in my tracks.
All the screaming and people running away have given away my location. Ivan stands a mere fifteen feet in front of me, a grin on his face like he knows he’s won. His SUV screeches to a stop beside him, and the driver and Sergei step out, the former pointing a gun in my direction, although he’s smart enough to keep it concealed by the vehicle.
“Come on now, Wren. It’s time to go,” Ivan says, gesturing to the SUV. I glance at Sergei and see his free hand clench into a fist at his side. I have no idea what this guy’s deal is. There’s no way he’s secretly a good guy; he’s seen too much without taking action for that to be true. But there must be a part of him that doesn’t agree with some of the things Ivan does. At least when it comes to me.
Suddenly, he lifts his gun, pointing it at Ivan’s head, but the driver notices. He lets out a shout of warning as Ivan turns in time to see the driver shove Sergei’s gun arm to the side, just as he pulls the trigger, but the bullet hits the road.
The driver, who turns out to have skills far beyond a chauffeur, punches Sergei and pulls the gun from him,tossing it into the car before turning his own gun on him as he holds him face down against the SUV.
“Sergei?” Ivan says in angry disbelief. “You betray me? Forher?”
“I have been at your side for years,” Sergei says before turning his head to spit some blood on the ground. “I have supported every decision you’ve made. But you went too far when you whipped her.”
I listen in my own disbelief. Of all the bad shit Ivan’s done, whipping me is what pushed one of his right-hand men over the edge?
“She needed to learn. As do you, it seems.” Ivan looks at the driver and nods. Before I can blink, he pulls the trigger and fires a deadly blow into the back of Sergei’s head before tossing his body aside.
Ivan looks at me and grins, and suddenly a deep sense of regret fills me. That man died trying to protect me, and it got him killed. I should have used that moment to run, but I was so caught up in what was happening that I was frozen to the spot.
And now my chance is gone as the driver points his weapon back at me, looking completely undisturbed by the life he just took.
“Shall we?” Ivan asks me, gesturing to the SUV once again.
My hand tightens on the gun. I didn’t get this far just to willingly get back into the car with him.
“No,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance.
