Page 56 of Sin Wager
"Everything concerning her concerns me." Misha speaks with absolute authority. "Move along. Now."
Instead of complying, Black Jacket draws his weapon in a fluid motion and fires. The shot goes wide, splintering wood from the barn wall behind Misha. The sound explodes across the stable yard, sending horses into frantic whinnying and workers diving for cover.
Misha's return shot is immediate and precise. Black Jacket crumples to the ground, clutching his chest as blood blossoms across his shirt.
The second man rushes toward me, abandoning any pretense of negotiation. I swing the money bag as hard as I can, catching him across the face. The impact sends him staggering, but he recovers quickly and lunges again.
Behind us, a horse rears in its stall, hooves scraping against wood. The sound mingles with shouts from stable hands and the approaching wail of security sirens. Everything descends into chaos, including my sense of safety. I'm on my way down, curling to a ball when Misha moves between me and the second attacker, his body shielding mine as he fires twice in rapid succession. Both shots find their target, and the man drops to the dirt without another sound.
"This way." Misha grabs my arm and pulls me upward toward the service tunnel that runs behind the barns. "Let's go."
My legs shake as I stumble to my feet and we run, adrenaline making everything too bright, too sharp. The weight of what just happened—the violence, the blood, the casual way Misha handled both those men—lies over me like a heavy blanket.
He leads me through a maze of corridors I didn't know existed, past storage rooms and mechanical rooms, until we reach a locked room deep in the building's interior. He produces a key and ushers me inside, then secures the door behind us.
The room is small and windowless, filled with saddles and bridles that hang from wooden pegs. A single bare bulb provides harsh light, making me squint as I cower against the wall.
"Are you hurt?" His hands move over my arms and shoulders, checking for injuries.
"No. I don't think so." My voice sounds distant, disconnected from my body. My head is spinning at what just happened.
"Good." He holsters his weapon and pulls out his phone. "That was not random."
I'm shaking, not fully comprehending what Misha did. Why would Sonya send someone after me and break her own rules when she specifically ordered me to follow them?
"They were testing me," I realize aloud. "Seeing if I would break, if they could make me hand over their winnings?" Or maybe she's looking to clean up her mess now, like Pavel. But I don’t say that out loud.
"Yes." His fingers work quickly across the phone screen. "Maybe… or maybe they just want to rattle you and get you scared."
"But I don't pose a threat…"
He looks up from his phone, and I see something shift in his expression. "You know more than you think. Routes, schedules, who pays you and when. Information that could unravel their entire operation."
I'm ready to piss myself I'm so scared, and now he tells me that I'm a threat to them? That somehow, Sonya may want to tie up loose ends and because I know her betting schedules, maybe I'm the next thread to be cut?
"No," I mumble, and my mind goes instantly to Elvin, lying in bed at home.
"I told you to stay close to me," Misha says as he fires off one text after another. My phone buzzes too, at the same time his screams with an emergency alert about an active shooter at the racetrack.
"I… You said…" I can't find words. Tears flood my eyes. "What's happening?" I shake my head and hug my arms over my belly protectively, suddenly realizing how protective I feel over the life I'm carrying. I look up at Misha, still typing away into his phone, and I know he'd feel the same. So much so, in fact, that he would never allow me to go out to the track again.
"You really think we can stop them? That I know enough to take them down?" I ask, and he doesn't even look up.
"Stay here," he says, glancing at the door, not answering my question. "Leave the door locked, no matter what. Don't come out until I come back to get you." And then he's gone, leaving me trembling with my own tears and the reality that I almost died. All because Elvin needs my help or he'll never get well again.
I sink to the floor, curled with my legs to my chest, and sob. What have I gotten into?
22
MISHA
When the chaos is settled and the authorities have gone, I make my way back through the maze of tunnels beneath Podsolnukh where I left Vera. The key turns in the lock, and I push open the door to find her pressed against the far wall, her face drawn tight with fear. My chest aches for her because I know that feeling of fear all too well.
"It's over," I tell her, stepping inside. I walk toward her and crouch in front of her, studying her face.
She doesn't move immediately. Her eyes search my expression, looking for reassurance I'm not sure I can give. Blood stains my shirt sleeve—not mine—and I can see her taking note of every detail. I won't tell her the horrors I witnessed or the fallout that's likely to happen in our near future, but I can keep her safe.
"You can't go home tonight," I say. "Not after what happened up there."
