Page 15 of Maksim

The basement.

That doesn’t sound like a place you put a girl who just saved your friend’s life. If that’s how they’ll treat me thinking I’m Maksim’s savior, I can only imagine how they’ll treat me when he tells them what really happened.

5

MAKSIM

Iwake up in Hugh’s guest room—the one I’ve designated for myself after many drunken nights—with Hugh asleep in a chair next to the bed. His head hangs over his crossed arms, and a gun dangles from his hand like he’s braced for an intruder.

I look toward the door, bracing myself as well, not quite sure of what to expect.

Last night plays fresh in my mind, and the first thing I see is the girl. Elira.

Where is she now?

Is she … dead?

Would I be disappointed if she was?

I look down at the bandages wrapped around my torso and try to recall the last thing I remember. The drive here, I think. Elira’s hunched shoulders as she leaned inches from the wheel, her eyes wide scanning Las Vegas’s streets.

I wondered what she thought of all the lights, but I didn’t ask. It seemed like a weird question, given what had just taken place. Plus, I think she was just afraid. Afraid of driving. Afraid of Vegas. Afraid of me.

Is she dead?

My lips sink with a frown, but I straighten them as I clear my throat.

Hugh jumps awake, his arms unfolding so his gun points at the door. When his eyes meet mine, he sighs and lowers the weapon.

“Who are we expecting?” I ask him, digging my palms into the mattress to sit up.

He leans back in the chair and huffs. “You show up with five stab wounds, a bruised temple and bashed face, and you have the nerve to ask me who we’re expecting?”

Oh my God.

I nearly laugh. Nearly. Not quite. I’m a little too confused to fully feel the humor in him thinking the person who did this to me is a danger.

They don’t know Elira did it.

Is it because she didn’t tell them or because they killed her before she got the chance?

Or did she manage to get away? Would I still be alive if she had?

“Ah, so I guess the girl didn’t tell you what happened,” I say coolly, although I’m on the edge of my seat.

Why the fuck did I let Roman make me think killing this girl would solve my problems? If she’s dead, what punishment will Nikita give me? What games must I play next?

“The girl who doesn’t speak English?” Hugh asks, his dark orbs barely visible through slits. “Maksim, buddy, I feel like you’ve thrown me into a mystery novel. What the fuck happened? Who’s the girl? Who did this to you?”

The girl who doesn’t speak English.

Doesn’t. Present tense. She’s not dead. And she’s gone back to pretending she doesn’t speak English.

Now, I do laugh, earning myself a glare from Hugh.

I open my mouth, ready to tell him everything, but I stop myself. Hugh is a soldier who works closest to me, close enough you could call him my right-hand man. He’s also my best friend. He’s my brother. I trust him with my life. He has my loyalty, and I know I have his.

But he’s Bratva, and loyalty to the Bratva comes before loyalty to any one man. If Nikita asks Hugh what happened, I’d rather not put my brother in a position to lie on my behalf.