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And waited.
And waited.
Just when I was about to lose my patience, I heard the footsteps.
“Don’t shoot me,” I heard an unfamiliar male voice say. “I incapacitated him.”
I froze.
“My name is Shasha Semyonov. I’m gonna slide my ID down the length of the hallway to you.”
He did just that, right into a puddle of my blood.
“Shit,” I said as I came out of my room, gun still slightly raised.
I saw him standing in the mouth of the hallway, hands up.
I dropped the weapon and said, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, man, but…”
“Why am I here?” he asked. “I found out we had located our sister yesterday. I’ve been looking for her for what feels like my entire life. Of course, I’m going to come down the moment I hear she’s alive.”
He had a point.
“I thought you were going to wait for her to come to you?” I asked.
“We were gonna,” I heard a female voice say. “But you know, Semyonov’s patience is atrocious.”
“I have to get some pants on,” I said. “Can you call 911?”
I came out five minutes later, fully dressed, with a hastily slapped 4X4 gauze pad on my face—I hadn’t had the courage to look at the wound. I was scared of what I’d find.
“Could’ve lost your eye,” Shasha Semyonov said.
“Feels like I kind of did,” I admitted, offering him my semi-clean hand.
“It’s your chin,” he said. “Nowhere near your eye.”
“It’s my cheek,” I removed the pad. “Along my cheekbone.”
“Bluster. Looks worse than it is,” he said.
My brows rose. “How would you know that?”
“Because I’ve been shot a time or two in my life,” he replied cryptically.
“Let me up, motherfucker,” Scott fumed.
“Absolutely not,” a different female voice from earlier said. “You’re about to experience hell.”
Older.
Much older.
Maven’s grandmother, Jessa.
“Grandma,” the female voice from earlier said. “How about we introduce ourselves before we offer any more violence?”
“Oh, my manners are atrocious, aren’t they?” she said in the frailest voice I’d ever heard. “I’m Jessa Semyonov. This one is Shasha Semyonov, my eldest grandson. And this beautiful girl here is my granddaughter Milena. Nastya and Dima are at the bakery. We decided to divide and conquer so we could find her faster.” She held out that frail hand, and I took it gingerly, scared I would hurt her with just a forceful breath.
