“That will be the last shower you ever have.” She turned slowly, her eyes widening. He could tell her breathing had choked off. “You have enough supplies to last you maybe two weeks if you ration. The meds will stretch beyond that, but soon you won’t need them.” He stepped back toward the door. “I am sure you have wished to be rid of me. I grant that wish now. Goodbye.”
To the sound of her bare feet slapping on the floor and her fists hammering against the door he slammed in her face, Sergei turned, and for the last time, left the responsibility he’d undertaken.
It seemed she would inadvertently die by his hand, after all, he thought as the sound of her shouts faded the further up the stairs he went. By the time he reached the main level of the house, they were muted. When he made it to the second floor and began packing a couple of bags, he could hear nothing but the deep grunts and high-pitched pleas that came from the spare bedroom.
After gathering what he’d need, he entered the hallway just as the door across the way was flung open. The dark haired prostitute stumbled out. She pulled her skirt down over a handprint on her ass and tucked in an exposed breast that had red scratch marks on it. She had blood running over her lip where it leaked from her left nostril, and her right eye was pink and already swelling from what had to have been repeated hits.
“Wait,” he said as she limped away on one heel. He pressed a few hundred dollars into her hand. “Forgive me. I should have cared enough to warn you.”
“You guys are fuckin’ nuts,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Fear flooded her face at his ready agreement, and she was gone in the next second.
Reynard came out, buttoning his pants. He appeared satisfied.
Sergei knew right then how he would dispose of this sadist who so enjoyed taking his pleasure at another’s expense. Had the women been willing, because there were those who got off on rough treatment, it would have been different. But Reynard didn’t want an eager partner. He enjoyed the panic and struggle, and that was wrong.
“Where to now, boss?” Reynard asked as they locked up and got in the car.
Sergei wasn’t sure how his uncle was going to react to his latest attempt to affect the family’s ability to do business. It would be the most public strike yet, and it might hinder how freely he and Reynard could roam afterward.
He glanced at the house as they drove off. Unless he’d fucked up along the way and a drastic discovery was made in the next few hours, he and Reynard could probably return for one more night before they were forced to rest their heads under their enemy’s roof. He didn’t mind admitting he wanted to put that off for as long as he possibly could. Or avoid accepting the Baikov’s hospitality altogether. Who knew if they’d wake up the following morning? One could never fully trust an enemy.
He reached out and turned on the heat. “Aside from getting Sacha and her daughter out of the picture, there is only one other thing I must take care of before this ends.” He thought about the weapon he’d stowed in the trunk just that morning. It was funny how a man was going about his life with no clue it would end in the next forty-eight hours.
“What thing?” Reynard asked. “You never mentioned anything other than Brighton Beach and Alek’s woman. What else is there?”
“A private matter. Call Anton and see if they are still at the convention center. If so, we will go there. I’ll try to get Sacha alone. If I am successful, I will kill her fixation with Alek by using the same means he did. How do you think she will take it when she learns the man she loves has a son with the woman he cheated on her with? She will believe the lie because, correct me if I’m wrong, she did witness them having sex. To twist the knife, I will tell her Alek has spent an enjoyable year and a half with his ‘other family’.” He chuckled. “The poor girl will not be able to get away from him fast enough, and she will never know how lucky she is. After all, a broken heart is preferable to dead.”
“And if you can’t get to her?”
He went into his pocket and took out a small vial. “Then dead it is. At least for the little one, which will cause the most pain.”
“No shit.” Reynard laughed, sounding too happy. “I didn’t think you had the balls.”
Sergei rolled the brown bottle between his palms and looked out the window. It wasn’t about balls. It was about finishing what he’d started. And speaking of finishing a project, he had to get back to Rapture at some point in the next couple of days. Hopefully, when Micha, and his invasive stare, was out with Maksim.
“Get in touch with Anton,” he repeated. “We need to be seen. Too, I would like to be present when they get the call.” He sat back with a sigh and felt some relief that it was almost over.