Page 75 of Emerald Vices

“Yes. But you’ll earn yourself a quick death. Isn’t that worth cooperating?”

Harris’s eyes dart from side to side before he finds the audacity to look at me.

“You dare—” Andrey takes a sharp step forward, his voice shaking in a way I’ve never heard it do before. “You dare to look at her?”

“I-I didn’t hurt her!” he cries, meeting my eyes again. “Ask her!”

Andrey storms to the center of the room, stopping close enough that he’s snarling in the man’s ear. But the harsh sneer of his words carries all the way over to where I stand. “Look at her again and I will cut your fucking eyeballs out and stuff them down your throat. Is that understood?”

He nods in pure, abject fear.

“Good.”

Then Andrey punches Harris in the stomach. I wince at the sound of flesh on flesh—at Harris’s groan of pain—but it doesn’t bring the expected wave of sympathy.

You threatened my children, asshole. You deserve this.

As if he can read my mind, Andrey hits him again and again. His muscles shift and flex as he unleashes a storm of punches onto the tied man, using him like a literal human punching bag.

With every blow, Andrey paints another mark on Harris. A bruise here, a cut there. Blood rises to his skin until it breaks through the surface and drips to the floor. Harris’s grunts turn into screams and punctured moans.

He pleads desperately for mercy we all know isn’t coming until one blow to the head sends his eyes rolling back into his sockets. His face sags between his shoulders until I’m looking at the top of his head.

“He didn’t last long,” Andrey snorts.

Shura walks forward with a bucket of water in hand. “Shall I wake the scum up?”

“Not just yet.”

Andrey turns in my direction. He walks over and cups my face with his clean hand, the thumb stroking along the edge of my mouth. “Are you okay?”

My mouth drops open when Andrey uses his other hand to unbutton his white shirt. Blood stains the button holes and the cuffs as he pulls it off his shoulders and tosses it over the chair where he left his jacket.

“I’m okay, Andrey,” I insist, wrapping my hand around his wrist to hold him closer. “I want to stay.”

His eyes brighten as a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re a fucking miracle.” He pulls me to him and kisses me hard on the lips.

Then, all too soon, he lets me go. I’m still buzzing from the contact as he stalks back to his prey, muscles rippling under a thin spotlight coming from the moon above.

I can’t take my eyes off him. It’s true that his life is a dangerous thing. But so is he.

And if I have a prayer of being safe in this world… it’s with him.

30

ANDREY

“Please! Please! STOP!”

“Would you have stopped?” I snarl as blood pours from his mouth like a faucet. “Would you have stopped if she’d been the one begging?”

“Yes!” he screams.

“You know what liars get?” Keeping my eyes on him, I extend an open palm out. Shura places the scalpel in my hand.

As I advance on him, the stench of urine hits me. It stains his pants on the way down, pooling around his feet.

“Is this the kind of soldier you are?” I ask in disgust. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Your boss is a coward. Why would his men be any different?”