Page 86 of Darkest Deeds
Niko
Staggering inside Mikhail’s house,I peel off my blood-soaked shirt, and drop it the middle of the floor on the way to the bathroom. I know what I’m going to find, but I turn sideways and raise my arms, wincing at the sharp pain as I inspect my ribs in the mirror. It’s bleeding like a son of a bitch, but it’s only a graze.
Nice try, dickhead.
With a low grunt, I dig under the sink for a first aid kit. Finding one shoved in the very back, I lean against the counter and rip open a pack of gauze, patching myself up as I drink vodka straight from the bottle. The liquid burns a fiery trail down my throat and I welcome every drop. Maybe if I drink enough it will set fire to her memory, incinerating it to ashes.
Nothingness is better than acknowledging the reality that she’s saving her own ass by sacrificing mine.
Again.
Making my way to the couch, I lift the bottle in the air. “Here’s to breaking all the rules, then having them shoved up my ass. Good job, Niko. Next time your dick decides to overrule your brain, jerk off and do your fucking job.”
Exhaustion and booze work their way through my system, and I sink deeper into Mikhail’s couch until I feel the bottle slip from my hand and hit the floor. I don’t think it broke, but even if it did, a little broken glass isn’t enough to drag my ass off this couch to clean it up. I need to close my eyes, because once I open them, everything will have changed.
There will be no third chance for Ava and me.
All she had to do was stay here where I left her. Even if half of what Sergei said was true, at least I wouldn’t have found her at his house where she watched my mother die.
It’s the last thought on my mind as the sound of the front door opens. Like a light switch flipping off, all the alcohol evaporates from my system, and I aim my gun, ready to put a bullet in the first head I see.
Two hands fly up, framing splotchy blond hair. “I survived fighting the Saudis in Najran! I do not wish to die in my own house!”
My tense muscles relax. “Fuck, Mik!” I lower the gun and scrub my hand down my face. “Say something before you bust in like that. You know I’m on edge.”
Maybe all the alcohol didn’t evaporate from my system because if it did, it wouldn’t have taken me this long to put two and two together.
Two and two doesn’t always equal four. In this case, it’s supposed to equal out to three. With only Mik and I standing here, that’s two.
I know where the third is.
The question is—why doesn’t he?
Without another word, I stand up and aim my gun at his head again.
He glances behind him before shifting to his right. “What the hell, Niko? Are you drunk?”
“No, but it’d probably be in your best interest if I was. What happened to Ava, Mik? I tied her up right here.” Keeping the gun on him, I lean down and smack the armrest of the couch. “I told you to watch her.”
“Niko…”
“Did you fall asleep again””
“Niko…”
“Did she turn on the charm? Did you fall for her act and let her go?”
“Nikolai!” Hearing Mik use my full name stops me mid-rant. He’s fuming, his face a deep shade of red that almost matches the splotches in his hair. “I have blood soaked in my hair. It is dried on my neck, and it has stained my clothes. Do you think I tripped and did this myself?”
Shit, he’s right.
Torn out of my pity-party, I finally take a good look at my friend. The entire right side of his head is covered in blood, his blond hair almost unrecognizable. Streaks of dried blood coat his skin and his light blue shirt is stained dark brown. Either he’s been in one hell of a fight or my underestimation was underestimated.
“You look like shit.”
“Well, you do not look so hot yourself, asshole.”
Fair enough.