Page 76 of Twilight Tears

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Page 76 of Twilight Tears

Yakov hauls me against his chest and kisses my forehead. “Every chance I get.”

33

YAKOV

The man’s skull ricochets off my knuckles and smashes against the concrete wall behind him. His eyes are glazed over, unfocused, barely conscious. But I hit him again anyway.

“Is this knocking anything loose for you?” I ask, holding the man up by the bloodied front of his shirt. “Can you tell me what information you passed along to Pavel now?”

Isay found the man lurking around the perimeter of the mansion after I got back from dropping my sister and Luna off at the safehouse. Which pisses me the fuck off.

I checked my rearview mirror constantly while I was driving. Not to mention the frequent stops I made to double check for trackers. There’s no way he followed me all the way from the house back to the mansion without me noticing.

But that still doesn’t mean I’m taking a chance.

The man opens his mouth and blood dribbles out. There’s a mushy, ugly gap where his front two teeth were just a few minutes ago.

“Tell me what you know,” I demand.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. I know nothing.”

I channel the rage still coursing through my veins and take another swing at the asshole.

He’s a low-level grunt. Someone expendable Pavel probably sent on the off chance he could gather any good intel. At best, Pavel would get the drop on where Luna and Mariya are. At worst, he’d lose a nobody from his ranks.

I let go of the man’s shirt and he crumples to the floor at my feet just as my phone rings.

It’s a little early for the usual call from Nik’s doctor, but it is still later in the morning than I thought it was. Especially since I’ve already been awake for five hours.

“Dispose of him,” I tell Isay, nodding to the soldier. “Leave him where Pavel will find him.”

The man starts to scream, but I close the soundproof basement door on his death and take the call.

“This is Yakov.”

“Mr. Kulikov.” Dr. Tung’s voice is oddly formal. After daily phone calls for weeks, I’m used to the comfortable routine we’ve slipped into. The easy way she tells me nothing has changed and I continue on with my day like it isn’t a fist to my fucking chest every goddamn time.

Whatever she’s getting ready to say, I know I don’t want to hear it. But I ask anyway.

“How did Nik do last night?”

“I know honesty is important to you, so I’ll be blunt: not well. We’ve been weaning him off of the ventilator and he stopped breathing.”

I stiffen, bracing myself the same way I would to take a punch to the gut. “Is he okay?”

“We brought him back, but…” She sighs. “I think it’s time you came in and had a conversation with me and Nikandr’s team about how we proceed from here. Can you come in this morning?”

“I’ll leave now.”

I hang up and am grabbing my keys when I realize there is dried blood on my hand. I’m not sure if it’s from the delivery guy who brought the envelope, punching my fist through a wall, or the grunt I just finished with. Maybe all three.

I drop my keys back into the bowl and head to the shower.

The water is blisteringly hot, but I stand under the spray until my body is numb to the pain. As if maybe it will do something to get rid of the ache in the center of my chest.

There is only one thing Dr. Tung could want to talk to me about: what am I willing to do to keep my brother alive?

The answer, of course, is everything in my fucking power. The answer is that I will do anything to keep Nik here with us.




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