Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“No.”
“Damn it, Victor. There is no way you’re enjoying this life.” She threw her arms up in the air. “Look around you. We’re not safe. It doesn’t matter where we go or what we do, it’s never going to be safe.”
I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay, but I couldn’t even tell her that.
“We’re not going back home.”
“Please,” she said. “Consider it.”
I took a moment. “No.”
She pressed her hands together and I was pretty sure she was doing some kind of prayer.
“This isn’t funny,” she said.
“I’m not laughing.”
“Then why won’t you consider it?” she asked. “What do we have to lose?”
“Your life!” This time, I was not quiet. I didn’t hold back, but yelled at her. “You think it has been hard while we’re on the road, and people keep coming? It’s not even close. We’ve been lucky, and sure, there are people attempting to kill us, but that is going to happen no matter what. We go home, we’re sitting ducks. They will know exactly where we are, what we’re doing. There is no chance for us to make it if we go back home. Here, right now, this is where we stand a chance.”
I hated that I had to argue this point. Glancing down at my hands, I saw the dried blood on them. I checked Freya’s face to see if I had accidentally put blood on her, but she was clear.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I said, and with that I left her to deal with it.
Freya was being infuriating. Sure, it was hard. I got it. Moving around was not something I fucking enjoyed. I loved my territory. I loved my role. Being a Brigadier was in my blood. Serving Ivan was better than I could have ever imagined.
I wasn’t trying to be a pain in the ass. I was attempting to keep her safe. What was so hard to figure out? We had this argument quite regularly. Freya missed home. She missed her sewing room and Umberto’s cooking, as well as Rafael’s company. I missed them too.
I went to the bathroom, switched on the light, and grabbed the soap. Rubbing the soap onto my hands, I massaged it in. It was then, as I scrubbed my hands, that I realized I didn’t hear anything from the other room.
Turning off the tap, I grab the towel and step into the room, and I just knew she had already taken off.
“For fuck’s sake,” I said, yelling as I take off for the door.
Where there was one man I had killed, I knew there could be a second or a third. Anger rushed through me, and I made my way toward the elevator, seeing the last destination was the ground floor.
I pulled out my cell phone, dialed Ivan’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. I don’t know how I ended up with The Butcher’s number, but I did. I figured it was because my woman and The Butcher had become friends.
She did answer.
“What’s up?”
“Freya’s done a runner,” I said.
“What? You can’t even keep your wife in one fucking hotel room?” The Butcher asked.
“She’s going crazy. She doesn’t want to do this anymore, and I don’t want to keep making her do this.”
I made it to the ground floor, and yes, I was a little out of breath. Crashing into the main lobby, I ignored the curious looks and went straight for the main entrance. This was not safe. This was plain stupidity. She had to be safe. Nothing could happen to her.
My heart raced and I don’t think it was entirely because of the run, although that might have something to do with it. I hated the fear that chased down my back threatening to spill over. The sense of panic I had. I didn’t want anything to happen to my wife.
“Where would she go?”
“Anywhere. You’re just going to have to pick a direction and go with your gut. Think about your wife. Where she would go?”
And with that, The Butcher hung up.
This was not about dealing with your gut. My wife was her own woman, and we were in Slavik’s territory. She didn’t know the place all that fucking well, and neither did I. Holding my cell phone within my tight grip, I looked left and right, and that was when I saw the sign that had the direction for the park, heading left.
I took off. There was only one place I felt my wife would go—the park. The one place she might feel ... normal. It was also a dangerous fucking place.
I followed the directions that would take me to the fucking park. I was not in the best of moods right now. In fact, I was pissed off. I got it more than she even realized. My wife was scared. She was tired. She wanted to go home. Her life had been turned upside down, and she had done nothing wrong. There was nothing I could do to change it. So far, even Ivan hadn’t been able to stop it.