Page 31

ARSENI

M y eyelids feel heavy as I pull into Nikita’s driveway. The sun is barely waking up, a sliver of yellow and red peeking from the horizon. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I would be annoyed. No, scratch that, I’m definitely annoyed.

Slamming the door to my car, I walk the silent path to the house with my teeth gritted.

I don’t know whose house I was just at or why Nikita could possibly need to be watching it at three o’clock in the morning, especially considering the owner wasn’t even home.

The owner being some broad I’ve seen before on his cameras and only on his cameras.

I’m almost certain she isn’t important or someone who remotely needs surveilled. I’m pretty sure Nikita’s a creep.

I almost told him no. I wanted fucking desperately to tell him no.

I’m tired of this. I’m tired of his obsessions, of helping him stalk everyone around him. I’m tired of his tests. I’m tired of him .

Luka was right. I really hate to admit it, but it’s true. I don’t know how I can commit my loyalty to this man for the rest of my life.

I also don’t know what choice I have.

Trudging upstairs, I keep my steps soft. I was gone longer than I hoped, so it’s possible Margot is up wondering where the hell I am. But I’m banking on that not being the case.

I ease open the bedroom door, cringing when it creaks. I step inside and quietly click the door shut behind me, but when I turn toward the empty bed, my shoulders deflate.

“Margot?” I check the dark bathroom. Empty.

“Margot?” I call louder as I turn and go back out into the hall. I check the kitchen first, then the dining room, then outside. All empty.

“What the fuck?” I mutter under my breath, my heart beating faster. I go back inside to continue my search and find Nikita in the gym.

He’s doing some yoga pose that’s basically a handstand, but his bare feet are together and he looks like a ripped monk.

I’d be impressed, but I’ve always considered yoga to be feminine.

Same with gardening. And the color purple.

If Nikita wasn’t creeping on random women, I’d suspect he was gay.

I still wouldn’t be surprised if he was.

“Have you seen Margot?” I ask, trying to keep the worry from my voice.

Nikita lowers his good leg to the floor and takes his time with the other, gently tapping the ground before jerking himself to standing. He swipes his towel off the mat and mops up the sweat on his neck.

“She isn’t in my room,” I say, as if that wasn’t implied. “Did you take her to the basement?”

Tossing the towel back down, he limps over to the rack of dumbbells, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “I sent her home.”

My rapidly beating heart pauses. “What?”

Nikita flicks his gaze at me before pulling weights onto his shoulders and raising onto his toes.

“About a half hour ago, she woke me up with her scream. She had a nightmare and was still freaked out when I checked on her. I think she thought I was going to hurt her or something because she was begging me not to kill her and sobbing about how she wanted to go home… It felt like the right thing to do.”

Air whistles past my teeth as I stand with my mouth agape. I look around like I’m thinking, but really, I don’t know how to process it.

She’s gone.

Margot’s gone.

“You just let her go?” I ask, my voice weak. “Just like that?”

He looks up from his calf raises. “Should I have done something different?”

Yes .

No…

No, I guess not.

“Did she say anything about where she was going?”

“Home, I suppose. She kept saying she wanted to go home. I gave her the keys to the Jag, so she’s probably there now.”

Home. Where a police car is staked outside, just waiting to nail her.

“She wouldn’t go home.” I say it almost off-handedly, like Nikita is going to help me solve this. Like he cares at all.

She wouldn’t go home. Not only that, she wouldn’t tell him that’s what she wanted.

She would’ve said she wanted to leave, maybe. But not to go home.

“It’s for the best, son.” Nikita sets the weights back. “She was becoming too much of a distraction anyway.”

No, she wasn’t. I left Margot in the middle of the fucking night to do what he wanted. She hasn’t distracted me from anything.

Nausea flips my stomach while I just stare at my boss. At my lunatic, psychopathic boss. The one who stalks people just to make sure they’re in line. The one who wouldn’t hesitate to kill a person out of boredom.

The one who wouldn’t hesitate to kill me … if he could.

“Where did she go, Nikita?”

Wiping a hand over his face, he shrugs again. “I don’t know. I did have her followed, of course. Just to make sure she didn’t go to the police station. But I haven’t heard?—”

“She would never go to the police.” I walk toward him, my steps feeling heavy. “She doesn’t need followed.”

He tips his head to the side. “For both of your sakes, I hope that’s true.”

“Why would you not let me be the one to follow her?” My eyes narrow as my stomach rolls. “Why would you let her go? You wanted her dead. You told me it wasn’t safe to have any way for Vitaly to connect us to that job. Why would you just let her go?”

“Because you asked me to.”

“No.” I shake my head. “No, that…” Closing my eyes, I press my hands to my spinning head. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“She wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye,” I go on, speaking to myself now.

She wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.

I know she wouldn’t.

She… She cares for me. She’s afraid of the outside world.

She wouldn’t have just left.

“What did you do?” I ask, my soft voice full of foreboding as I meet Nikita’s eyes. They’re blank pools of darkness, two black holes situated between his nose.

He doesn’t answer me. I wait for pity to show or maybe confusion, but he just remains blank. When his phone goes off by his towel, he goes to retrieve it. Turning to me, he tosses the phone.

I barely catch it. My reaction time is slow. My head is muddled. It isn’t until I look down at the message that anything starts to make sense.

You were right. She’s going to the police. Intercepting now.

I don’t recognize the number, but I know who they’re talking about.

“I’m sorry, son…”

I look between the phone and him, my eyes wide, my heart panicked. “You did this.”

Nikita shakes his head.

“Call them off,” I demand, shucking the phone at him. It falls at his feet. He doesn’t move to pick it up. “Call them the fuck off!”

“If you hurry, you might be able to catch them… Just be careful with friendly fire.” His voice is neutral, but I can feel his meaning. His intentions. All of it.

This is how I’m supposed to die. How, finally, he’ll get rid of the kid who knows his secrets.

He’s the fucking scorpion to my frog.

“You son of a bitch,” I say, my hands shaking with rage. If I wasn’t certain he had a knife in his pocket just waiting for me to attack, I might kill him. I wish I had the time.

I turn and run from the room.

As I jump into my car, I try to think of what to do. How to reach Margot in time without knowing exactly where she is. I know the Jag’s information, so I could get the GPS traced, in theory.

But the Bratva isn’t going to help me with that. The Bratva will kill me the second they get the chance, if not by Nikita’s orders than Vitaly’s. Everything having to do with Margot will be pinned on me and me alone. I don’t know how I didn’t see this coming.

I rip my phone from my pocket and dial the only number I can think to call right now. The only person who might be able to help me.

Hudson answers as I peel out of Nikita’s driveway, the mansion in my rearview for the very last time.

“I need your help,” I say, my heart in my throat.