Page 7 of Anton

He chuckles and slaps a hand across my back. “That you are. But no, not yet. I’m going to give her family one more chance to spare themselves the bloodshed.”

“I’m not holding my breath.”

“Me neither.” He stares thoughtfully. “It would be a shame to end someone like her, but that’s how this life works, isn’t it? We’re all casualties.”

“Have you ever talked to her?” I scoff. “She’s quite annoying.”

His laughter returns. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was growing on you.”

“I’d rather be shot again.”

He shakes his head.

Wait. He thinks I’m joking?

“Oh, Anton, I would miss you if you were gone.”

“I think I’d miss you too.”

He nods. “From you, I will take that as a compliment. Get home safe, horosho?”

“Paka.” Bye.

As I head out, throw a leg over my bike, and drag the helmet on, she appears in my mind again. I twist the throttle until the engine roars, trying to outrun the thought of her before she infiltrates somewhere she has no business being.

CHAPTER THREE

ANTON

Volchok jumps on the bed, settling in his usual spot at the foot while darkness takes over outside. The day is long gone, and my mind is turning into a jigsaw puzzle of everything I still have to do.

Reaching into the nightstand, I pull out Thora’s picture, the one Konstantin gave me when he handed me the job.

How should I kill her? Would I want it to hurt? Would I have mercy?

Should I have mercy?

Maybe that would be the right thing. But when have I ever had mercy for anyone? Why should she be any different?

Still, she was kind to my dog. In the real world, that counts for something.

But I never grew up with mercy. I don’t even know what the fuck that looks like.

When I close my eyes, my father’s face appears, his stare hard and unforgiving. The kind that never accepted no and never forgot failure.

I had failed him for the last time, and that failure changed my entire future before I even had one to begin with.

“You’ve disappointed me, moy malchik.”

My arms stay at my sides, fingers curling into my palms until it hurts, because that’s easier than looking at him or saying something that might make him madder.

“You know what happens when you fail Papa, right?”

Of course I do. Something bad.

The chair scrapes against the floor as he stands, and my eyes jump to my three brothers, who are all standing there, knowing what’s going to happen to me.

Papa tsks, letting out a disappointed sigh. “I really thought after all your training, you would succeed. Your brothers all did. But you…” He grabs my wrist so hard it hurts. “You are a disappointment. Maybe I should have tried harder. Maybe I was too soft with you because you are the youngest. But no more.” His nostrils flare. “I will retrain you, and you will never question an order again.”