Page 146 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

They have a van.

They have the means.

I know they’ll catch up with me.

My features twist with determination as I scan the houses on my right.

Not if I take a shortcut.

I launch into an alleyway between two houses and bounce over a white picket fence. A few dogs snarl as I race past them, but I’m not deterred by their snapping jaws. I haul over another fence, dart behind a shed, and then huddle behind some rusty farm equipment being used as lawn decor.

I’m in the thick of the neighborhood now. My heart is beating so loudly that all I can hear is the rushing flood of it in my head. My shoulders shake. My chest aches. My knees burn. I’m staring wide-eyed at the area where I just came from, waiting for those guys to burst through the bushes at any moment.

But they don’t.

Normal sounds and activities rush into my awareness. The dogs are barking in the other yard. There’s a lawnmower running somewhere. Some kids are laughing.

No weird goons. No guy juggling peaches.

I inhale as much air as I can manage and then whip out my phone. Three missed calls from Pavel.

Now, what in the world could that be about?

While trying to control my limbs, I click on my brother’s name, watching the way my thumb shudders across the screen. I’m still freaking out. I’m still clutching the pepper spray.

The line rings once and then clicks. “Karinka, where are you?”

“Hiding. I’m safe now.”

“What happened?” He holds the phone away from his ear and yells in Russian. When he comes back, he says, “Tell me, Karinka.”

“Some guys just tried to grab me near the house. I ran.”

He curses. “Come to Coney Island.”

“Pasha, what’s happening? Is this…?”

He sighs. “No time. Just get here as fast as you can. Cardona is tying up loose ends.”

I sink to the ground. I’m crashing from the adrenaline, but I can’t stop now. I have to keep going.

“Hurry,” Pavel urges. “Nobody is safe now.”

Epilogue

Willow

It all starts in a huge warehouse room. Those idiots circle us like hawks, watching us struggle against our bindings like they’re hooked on watching live-action porn. A few of them look like they’re really enjoying it, too.

If I could sneer any harder, I would. If I could kick them, I would. There are a lot of things I would do if my limbs weren’t strapped tightly to a chair.

The big dude walks in, smoking a cigar like a man coming to inspect his new horses. My eyes pierce right through him, stabbing him repeatedly in my mind. That stupid fucker is the reason this is all happening.

And then he waves toward Zoya. “She comes with me.”

One of his men steps forward and points to me. “And the blonde, Don Cardona?”

Cardona’s eyes slide over to me like he’s just noticing my existence. A curious smirk appears that doesn’t minimize when he pops the cigar into his mouth. He puffs it a few times, smoke clouding his features.

---