I pull out my phone and call Aleksandr. He answers quickly.
“Talk to me,” he says. I hear noise in the background, voices and movement. Whatever is happening tonight isn’t isolated to our cabin.
“They found us. Two of Morozov’s men just broke in. I killed them both.”
“You okay?” he growls.
“I’m fine. Sandy’s fine.”
There’s a pause. Then his voice drops. “The safehouse we were prepping was compromised. We think Morozov’s been using intermediaries—enemies from other syndicates. Manipulating them to come after us and our assets.”
I move to the window, checking the tree line again. Still clear.
“He’s playing chess while we’re throwing punches.” I hear the exhaustion in his voice, the burden of beingpakhan.
I look out the window, and my jaw clenches. “Where do we go?”
“North. I’ll send you coordinates in five. It's deep in the mountains. Secluded.”
“Good,” I exhale.
“Stay safe.” Aleksandr ends the call.
Sandy slings her bag over her shoulder and looks at me. I noticed she slipped a small knife into her boot. “I’m ready,” she states.
I nod, grab my duffel bags, and spare one last glance at the bodies. Burning it all down crosses my mind, but time isn’t on my side.
We step out into the cool night air. The forest surrounding the cabin is quiet. No cicadas, no night birds. Nature sensed death and kept its distance. I scan the trees again before leading Sandy to the jeep parked fifty yards away.
I open the passenger door, and she slides in, clutching her arms around herself before leaning back against the headrest. I circle around, gun still in hand, before sliding into the driver's seat.
The engine roars to life. I back out quickly, gravel crunching under the tires. Somewhere behind us, the cabin stands silently, two bodies cooling on its floors.
As I drive, the road snakes through the hills, headlights cutting through mist and shadow. Sandy sits quietly, staring out the window, but I can feel her gaze on me every few minutes.
She finally speaks. “You’ve killed someone before,” she mutters.
“Too many times.” I keep my eyes on the road, but my fingers tighten on the steering wheel.
She turns toward me. “Does it ever get easier?”
I think about that. Think about the first time. He was a rival enforcer when I was seventeen. How I'd vomited afterward. How Aleksandr had held my shoulder and told me it was necessary. I think about all the times since each face is still clear in my memory.
“No. But you learn how to bear it,” I answer.
Her hand finds mine across the console.
“Thank you, Dimitri. For saving me.”
Her eyes are soft and full of things unsaid. “I’ll always come for you,malyshka. Always.”
She holds my gaze, her fingers lacing with mine. “I’m scared, but I feel safe with you. That’s strange, isn’t it? With everything that’s happening... all this blood and danger... I feel safer now than I ever did before.”
The GPS chimes. I receive coordinates and punch them in. It's another two hours on these mountain roads.
“We’re not out of this yet,” I mutter. The woods around us seem to press closer, shadows moving in the periphery of the headlights.
Sandy leans back in her seat, but her fingers never leave mine.