Page 76 of Darkest Deeds
“I will follow you,” he says matter-of-factly, steering me toward the hallway. “I am not letting you out of my sight.”
“You’re not watching me pee.”
“No, I am not. I do not wish to die today, thank you.” He pushes me inside the bathroom, nodding toward the toilet. “You have two minutes. Make it fast, and if you lock the door, I will break it down.”
Damn.
Standing in the middle of the bathroom, I take stock of what I have to work with and frown. Typical man, it’s not decorated for shit. Flat beige paint is the only color besides a metal toothbrush holder, a soap dispenser, and an ugly glass candle that needs to be trashed.
“Your two minutes are up.”
“Uh, just a minute.” I spin around and flush the toilet as the door starts to open.
Shit!
Out of options, I do the first think that comes to mind.
“Ow,” I groan, bending over and holding my stomach.
“What is wrong?” Mikhail flings the door open and moves in behind me at the perfect angle. I couldn’t have planned it any better if I’d put an X on the floor and positioned him myself.
“Stomach cramp,” I groan again, stumbling against the counter. “It’s that time of the month.”
“Whoa.” Mikhail throws both hands up and turns his head as if a demon is going to come flying out of my vagina and drag him to hell. “I do not want to hear any more.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Grabbing the godawful candle, I spin around, and clock him in the back of the head with it. The glass shatters, sending Mikhail to the floor in a heap and me into the wall. A sharp pain radiates up my arm and I look down to see a gash in the palm of my hand, dripping blood onto the tile floor.
Oh well. Small price to pay.
I lean down to check Mikhail’s wound. I got him good. There’s a cut on the back of his head that’s quickly staining his blond hair a nasty red color. Head wounds bleed like a motherfucker, so after making sure it’s not too deep, I search his pockets until I find a set of keys.
“I didn’t lie to you. I’m not going to run like last time. I’m going to drive.” Giving his shoulder a quick pat, I stand up and frown as I glance down at what I’m wearing. Short shorts and a tiny tank top are hardly warrior attire, but I don’t have the time to change. It’ll have to do.
Stopping by the bedroom, I quickly unzip the black bag I saw Niko digging in earlier. Grabbing a gun and extra ammo, I climb to my feet, when I see something else that catches my attention. Bending back down, I pick it up and wrap everything in an extra T-shirt before running out the front door.
Mikhail’s car isn’t nearly as fancy as Niko’s, but it starts when I put the key in and it moves when I press the gas. I have no idea how to navigate my way out of here; I just hope I’ve paid enough attention when Niko drove us here to not get lost.
He’s going to be furious when he finds out what I’ve done, but at this point I have nothing left to lose. Niko has made up his mind about me, no matter what I say. I warned him Sergei wouldn’t hand over his mother without a fight. Fortunately, I know how that man’s mind works, and all it will take to bring him down is the Butterfly Effect.
It sounds harmless, but it’s not. It’s the idea that a minor change in circumstance can completely change the outcome. A butterfly flaps its wings in the Brazilian rainforest and subsequently, a tsunami takes out half of the Pacific Rim. Of course, I’m no butterfly, and this isn’t a rainforest, but the storm I’m about to cause? That’s real. And it’s going to be brutal.
I’ve done what I thought was right. I’ve tried to right my wrongs.
But like I said, I’m no butterfly.
I’m a motherfucking bee.
And it won’t be the flap of a butterfly’s wings that starts this storm.
It’ll be the sting no one saw coming.