Page 89 of Darkest Deeds
Ava
Just like this morning,I’m staring out the window in the passenger’s seat of a strange car. However, instead of scenic A1A, I’m watching cars fly past me on I-95 South. The nachos I ate earlier are sitting like a rock in my stomach, and as the miles roll by, I’m not confident they aren’t going to come back up.
Once again, night is falling, and as the day disappears, I start to think about ridiculous things like what I’m going to do when all of this is over. I’d love to climb to the top of the Empire State Building in New York then travel all the way to the West Coast and see every star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Maybe I’ll even backpack through Europe.
It’s nice to think of things that will never happen.
That’s because I’m here in this car, still driving on the road to nowhere.
It didn’t have to end this way. Unfortunately, they only cared to look at what was on the outside instead of delving into what was brewing inside. Their plan was doomed from day one. I’ve never been a heavy subscriber to the pack mentality. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out if you roam with wolves, you’re bound to get bit. Eventually, everyone turns on you.
But this she-wolf finally sank her teeth into the alpha, and he never saw it coming.
“Ah! You fucking shot me!”
“That’s why you’re the boss, Papa.” I tap my finger against my temple. “You’re so perceptive.”
“All of this for him? I sent him to kill you, suka.”
“I know.” I swing Niko’s gun beside me as I walk the perimeter of my father’s office. “He told me a long time ago.”
“Yet here you are.” He groans, holding his leg as blood pours out of the wound. “You are just like your mother, a suchka sumashedshaya.” Crazy bitch.
I shrug. “Maybe I am. It’s kind of poetic, don’t you think? You smothered her, and now her suchka sumashedshayadaughter is going to smother you.” I end with a laugh, because irony has a funny way of always standing up and being counted even in dire situations.
“You want to kill me?” he yells. “You want to burn me? Go ahead, myshka. But look around, you stupid girl.” He waves his hand around the room. “You have barricaded both of us in here.”
“Your point?”
“You do not care you are going to die with me?”
Charging toward his desk, I slam my hand down and grit my teeth. “You’ve taken everything from me. My innocence, my dignity, my freedom, and my love. My life is the only thing left.” A secret smile plays on my lips as I sit on the edge of his desk, running my finger down the grip of my gun. “But you’re right, Papa, I have no desire to die with you. As soon as you’re dead, I’m going to find Ethan and tell him I killed you. That way, neither he, Dmitry, or any other of your sheep can pin it on Niko.”
A laugh rumbles low in his throat. “Dmitry will not be implicating Nikolai, trust me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“The man cannot talk with his throat slashed, myshka.”
I rollmy forehead against the glass.
How everything can change in an instant.
“Ava, are you all right over there?”
I blink away the fire and smoke, dragging myself away from my father’s office and back into the sedan. Turning away from the window, I see Ethan glancing from the road to me and back. The disarray I last saw his dark hair in is gone. It’s now gelled back in its usual crisp style. His suit is pressed, his white shirt is starched, and his red tie is knotted perfectly. It’s as if my call unwound his bundle of nerves.
He was this way when he picked me up at that Irish pub on the Boardwalk. I wish I could find a word to describe his mood when he slid into the seat across from me and patiently listened as I recounted the story of how Niko had killed all of my father’s guards then forced his way into his house. He even reached for my hand when I got to the part where he decapitated my father and held a gun to my head. He calmly told me Niko’s prints would still be on the grounds, but first he needed to get me out of Miami. When I questioned him, all he said was that I was in danger, and he would take care of it.
Unbothered.
Yeah, that’s the word to describe his mood. Completely unbothered.
“Yes,” I answer, forcing a smile I’m sure isn’t at all convincing. “Just a little car sick.”
He nods and turns the air vents in my direction. “Try not to throw up in this car. It’s a rental.”
If I didn’t need to conserve all my strength, I’d punch him in the face.