With a calm brought on by denial, Vasily gave his instructions and got moving again. He went straight to the coroner’s office, and acting as the hair-brained detective who’d forgotten to check for identifying jewelry, he received confirmation that the only occupant of the vehicle, a female driver, had perished.
He walked outside and stood next to his car for a moment, concentrating on his heart as it beat in his chest. How was it still doing that?
Within minutes, he was at the compound, standing next to what remained of Kathryn’s vehicle, and not long later, he was back at the morgue. He sat in the parking lot, ignoring his constantly ringing phone. He wanted to go in and hold her lifeless body. But there wasn’t even that.
His kitten was gone. An image of her burning alive played continuously through his mind, vividly, taunting him, drilling home the fact that it all could have been avoided had he kept her by his side where she belonged. He could have protected her from her fiery death. He should have protected her.
It wasn’t until the sun was coming up that he started his car and drove to the hotel. He went in without exchanging words with anyone but to ask Dmitri if they’d managed to intercept any of the men responsible for this tragedy. When he was told two had been killed during the altercation but they managed to bring the third back and he’d already been questioned, Vasily asked for him to be brought in.
Moments later, the sound of the door registered as he stared out over the gray, churning waters of the Sound. She was gone. He couldn’t accept that. How would he ever accept that? Evangeline would be getting the news anytime now. His daughter was alone in New York, and she would be receiving news that her only family had been killed. She would have no idea that her father was the reason behind it.
She might be crying right now, calling out for her mother.
His child. In pain. Her mother, gone.
His Kathryn. Burned. His kitten. Dead. Forever.
Turning, he took his hands from his pockets, locked eyes with the dark stare of a Baikov soldier, and started forward. He didn’t stop until he had the man pinned to the wall next to the door. Vasily could smell the fear emanating from him.
He could also smell pennies.
As his mind roared in agony, English became a thing of the past, and he reverted to the type of Russian his grandfather used to speak. A guttural, rough dialect that worked well at that moment.
“What have you done?”
He put more pressure on his arm and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent rushing up his nose as the man moaned.
“Do those who sent down this order have any idea what they’ve started? If they wanted to provoke a reaction from me, they succeeded.” He twisted his hand and felt a rush of warmth soak his knuckles. “They succeeded by taking from me something I cannot live without. And they will pay for that for years to come.”
He pulled back and jabbed with more force than last time. The sharp blade in his grip hit something hard, but he drilled through it, causing the man to howl. Vasily savored that as a puddle began to form at their feet.
“The members of the Baikov Bratva will pay, right down to their sixthes. I will know when it is only those errand boys that are left, because, with every spare moment I have from here on out, I will hunt you down and take your lives the same way you took mine.”
He pulled back and stabbed into the hole a dozen times in quick succession. Blood splashed, and a wet sound filled the room. But all Vasily could hear were Kathryn’s screams as the flames consumed her. How long had it taken her hair to singe, her silky skin to welt, her flesh to incinerate and her small frame to become visible to the naked eye?
“It is done. Stop now.”
Dmitri’s voice came from far away. It made Vasily pause and rest his arm. He was gasping for breath as he stepped back and let the mess he’d made fall to the floor. He stared at what used to be a man’s torso. It was now unidentifiable, and his fury grew exponentially because destroying this man hadn’t helped. It hadn’t lessened his pain. It hadn’t taken away his anguish. It was just one more thing he’d done for nothing.
Such as leaving his helpless woman on her own, to live without him when they should never have parted. They should have lived their lives together. They should have laughed and cried and loved every single day from the moment they’d met. They should have raised their precious child together. They should have expanded their family and surrounded that sacred unit with their love and acceptance.
Vasily fell to the floor and let his grief and regret flow from his throat in an agonized howl that made the top of his head feel as if it were being sheared off. He took a breath and did it again. And again. And again.