Page 96 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

I spare a glance over my shoulder. The sound of gunfire doesn’t even greet my ears, nor the screams of those surrounding us. All I hear is white noise as I watch Kiril’s body convulse as one bullet after another slams into him.

He raises his arm with practiced familiarity. The gun in his hand jerks. Once. Twice. Three times.

And then, he collapses.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Liya

Adrenaline sends my heart pounding in my ears like a drum by the time we get near the docks. Nothing else seems to exist right now except the urge to run. My calves burn and my shoulders twitch, but I’m keeping up a steady trot as Zoya stumbles behind me. I catch her arm and yank her into my side.

She’s been whispering to herself for the past half mile. “Dad…Daddy…He…”

I shush her as I rub her arm. She’s cold as ice despite the humidity. “Not now, Zoya. Later. We have to get to the—” I freeze when I see the police cars crowding the parking lot ahead of us. “Oh, fuck me running.”

The cops are already at the docks.

“We should have known,” Zoya whimpers. “They were going to get us sooner or later.”

“They’re not getting us,” I state through clenched teeth. “I have an idea.”

Pavel straightens his posture and loosens his tie, then slides it from his neck. He rolls it around his fingers before dabbing my temple.

I wince.

“Easy,rodnaya,” he whispers. “Just a scratch. I don’t want any blood getting in your eyes.”

Affection oozes from his movements despite the severity of our current position. We’re out in the open. We’re down on our luck.

We’re out of a fucking car.

“What’s your idea?” he whispers. “Tell me.”

My eyelids flutter when his fingers graze my cheekbone. It’s bruised, but not so badly that it makes me weak in the knees—that’s just pure Pavel causing that. “We need to go somewhere they won’t look.”

“Which is?”

“Best way to hide something is in plain sight, right?” I lick my lips hesitantly. Am I really about to say this? “A shitty dive bar that’s guaranteed to be empty.”

His fingers freeze on my cheek. “You mean…”

“I do.” I nod. “Blaczak’s Horseman.”

A stampede of emotions crashes through his face. It’s strange to see it all at once when his usual statuesque expression holds up against most things.

But Blaczak’s? That’s deep. That’s personal.

That’s where we met.

That’s where we fucked.

My heart flutters as his touch lightens and then drops to my shoulder. “Are you sure that won’t be a problem,Lisichka?”

“Dmitri won’t be there until the evening at the earliest,” I explain. “Janine should be the only one behind the bar.”

He squeezes my shoulder. I know what he’s asking.

Just like I know that devilish look in his eye.

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