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“Is he...? Did I…?” I couldn’t even say it. I couldn’t even comprehend it. What the fuck had I just done?!
“No,” Sasha said, squeezing my shoulder.
A trail of blood led through the backdoor of the club, across the tiled floors, straight to the elevator.
Sasha and I rode the same elevator, except we went up, not down. Down where my father was being kept in a chainlink box. Down where a would-be assassin was apparently deposited. For what? Safe keeping? What the fuck was Sasha going to do to him? Why not just kill him, like his friends, and get it over with?
I stared at the puddle of blood in the corner of the steel box. Now I knew why this expensive club didn’t install carpeting inside the elevators. Why it wasn’t fancy, with mirrors and hand rails like our apartment building.
Stepping out on the third floor, Sasha guided me through the halls to what essentially looked like a studio apartment. There was a kitchenette, a couch with a TV, a single bed and from what I could see through a cracked door at the far end, a bathroom.
“Sit.” He didn’t even give me time to comprehend the command before he shoved me down onto the couch.
“He’s not dead?” I asked. How could he not be dead? There was so much blood.
“Not yet.”
I covered my mouth with my hand, turning away from him in case I threw up.
“You did what you had to,” Sasha said in a moment of deja vu. “Look at me.” He cupped the back of my head and pulled me toward him, his gaze locked on mine. “You did well. I’m proud of you.”
Nodding, I tried to slow down my racing thoughts. The warmth from his praise poked at the strange numbness in my stomach. I focused on that feeling. Three little words, followed by four little words. Soft, loving sentiment after a shooting. How fucked up was that? He wasproudof me for trying to murder someone. That’s not something you should be fucking proud of. But it was Sasha, after all, and making him proud was better than focusing on the guilt.
Sasha pressed his forehead to mine and held my face gently, exhaling a slow, steady breath. Pulling away, he kissed my forehead and reclined on the couch, dragging me with him like a rag doll.
I laid my head on his chest, listening to the steadiness of his heartbeat. He wassocalm. So unaffected. Like a rock. For once, I saw the benefit in being hard, for seeing the world in black and white. It simplified everything and gave you a clean conscience.
They were going to kill us. We killed them. It was that simple. Us versus them. I’d always choose us. It wasn’t even a choice, really. Somehow breaking it down like that made it easier to stomach.
I don’t know how long we laid together. It could have been forever and I wouldn’t have cared. All I needed was him, his strong arms wrapped around me, our legs twined together. As long as he was there, I knew I’d be ok. Everything would be ok.
After a while, he cleared his throat softly. “Solnyshko?”
“Hmm?”
“Where the fuck did you learn to shoot?”
I held my breath for a minute before answering. It wasn’t that I was keeping it a secret, per se, but it was something I’d wanted to surprise Sasha with. At the very least, not make an idiot out of myself if we ever did go shooting. “Ilya.”
He nodded, his arms tightening around me. “And the Russian?”
“Ilya…” Again... not asecret, more like a happy surprise.
He nodded again. “Did Ilya teach you anything else?”
Inwardly I cringed, for both myself and my poor bodyguard. “How to beat you in Durak…”
“That’s it. He’s fired.” Sasha swung one leg down off the couch and started to sit up.
“Don’t you dare,” I said, poking him in the ribs. He squirmed away from my hand, a chuckle rumbling through him as he laid down again.
“I wouldn’t. I think after today he deserves a promotion,” he murmured, kissing my temple.
It was my turn to sit up, slowly, surveying my surroundings with a somewhat clearer perspective. “What is this place? A crash pad?”
“Mhmm. For when it’s not safe to be home.” He shifted me off his lap and stood, grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. He tapped one halfway out of the packaging, holding it out to me.
I made a face and shook my head. “No, thank you.”
