Page 68 of Fierce Pursuit

I could blame it on hormones. On fear. On sheer, unrelenting stupidity.

But none of that mattered right now.

I had to get away from him.

There was no way to be certain that he wasn’t responsible for Veronika’s death. And even if he hadn’t killed her, what was stopping him from killing me?

Nothing.

He wanted that money. That was the only thingkeeping me alive. But once he had it, what then? There’d be no reason to keep me around.

I had to think about survival.

Maybe one day, years from now when I was far away from this nightmare, I would let myself breathe again. Maybe then, I would find a man who made me feel even a fraction of what Kostya did in that tiny, confining room.

But I doubted it.

And if not? So be it.

A woman who fucked her sister’s husband didn’t deserve happiness.

But that didn’t mean I deserved to die, either.

The train screeched to a sudden, violent halt, throwing me forward in the hall.

A piercing clang of a railroad crossing bell echoed through the air, the sound reverberating through the metal of the train car.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I peered through the small window out into the night. It was pitch black, nothing but vast, open fields stretching in either direction. In the distance, I could just make out the silhouette of a farmhouse, dimly lit and isolated.

We were in the middle of nowhere.

My bag was back in the room with Kostya, but I had a few hundred bucks stashed in my shoe. I could feel the lump from the bills beneath the insole, pressing against the arch of my foot, grounding me. That had to be enough to get me to New York.

It wouldn’t cover a bus, but maybe I could hitchhike.

Hitchhiking was dangerous.

More dangerous than staying with the man who might have killed my sister?

My mind raced.

Maybe I could find Solovyov’s men. Strike a deal. Or maybe I could take the money and disappear, start a new life, leave all of this behind.

That was a problem for future Marina.

Right now, I needed to know if escape was even possible.

I headed to the back of the train car, my pulse hammering as I stared at the narrow gap between the carriages. It would be easy enough to jump from.

One shot.

That was all I had.

Run. Now. Before he wakes up. Before he realizes what you’re doing.

I stood between the carriages and slammed my hand against the button. The metal doors hissed open. Night air rushed in.

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