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“I’m efficient.”
“Nikita didn’t wantefficient,” Roman says, although his tone isn’t scolding.
No, he didn’t. I didn’t do even close to what he wanted.
But… Jesus Christ, if this isn’t an opportunity worth taking, then Nikita really has gone insane.
“Did you get proof of death?” Roman asks, starting to sound impatient.
I turn to him with my eyes narrowed. “Proof of death? Since when is that a requirement?”
“Since I’m not positive that bitch is dead.”
I face forward and don’t reply. I’m not stupid. If I get caught keeping this from Nikita again, I won’t have a life to spare, but I don’t owe Roman shit.
He stops at a red light and swats his blinker on. “Alik.”
“Why are you turning? The warehouse is straight.” I gesture up the road, but when the light turns green, Roman takes the turn.
“We’re not going to the warehouse. I’m taking you home.”
“What? My car is still at?—”
“I don’t care,” Roman grits. “You’re not showing back up at the warehouse right now when that job should’ve taken youmuchlonger.”
I sigh. “Roman, it’s not going to matter. I need to talk to Nikita.”
“Because she isn’t dead.” His voice is monotone. It isn’t a question.
When I don’t answer, he swerves the car off the road and slams on the brake, sending me jolting forward until I tense. When he throws the car in park, he turns to me with his nostrils flared.
“Iunderstandputting her down mercifully, but do you want to die? Because if that’s what you want, I can take care of that now.”
My lips spread on a dry laugh. “You truly believe you’d be capable oftouchingme without me holding still for you?”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.” He stabs a finger in my direction, his eyes wide enough that my smirk falls.
Is he concerned for me?
Roman?
“I have an explanation.”
He shows his palm, looking like he’s about to slap me. “Let’s hear it.”
“She’s going to the police to turn in evidence against the Irish.”
His wide eyes constrict as his nose creases. “Huh?”
The video she showed me plays in my mind, and I try not to remember the release I felt in my chest when I saw it. Once again, Olive gave herself a way out. And me a way out.
She still has to die. But I don’t need to be the one to do the job, and at this point, I won’t deny myself the relief. Something about her fucks with my head. Good riddance.
“She assumes she wound up at that drug house the other night because of some ex-dealer she used to hang around. She’s trying to get him out of the picture, sotonight, she filmed him picking up his supply from the Irish. She has intel on them, and she should be giving a written testimony of it any minute.”
“How do you know she isn’t giving a written testimony aboutyou?You showed up to kill her twice, and I noticed you didn’t choose to wear a mask this time. She’s a witness to your crimes, dumbass, and if she’s willing to snitch on them, she’s willing to snitch on you.”
My lips stay sealed while I try to think of a response to that. He would have a point if there was any evidence I’d tried to kill her, but there isn’t. She doesn’t even know I’m Russian. She thinks I’m herprotector.
