Page 2

ROMAN

I holstered my gun.

Shame pressed down on my shoulders.

I failed him.

My eyes slid closed.

One deep breath.

That was all I allowed myself.

Pavel needed me focused.

On the hunt.

I didn’t even know who took him.

I knew they worked for the Colombians, but I had no idea who was in the helicopter, who that woman was, or where they would take him. But I would find out.

The only way to make this up to him was to get him back.

To do that, I needed to figure out who took him, and where.

I didn’t give a fuck why.

Their motivations were none of my concern.

That was going to be a conversation between them and their god, one that I would be happy to facilitate.

Carefully, I looked Alina over as she stood there by the wreckage. A large cut marred her forehead. Blood dripped down her face.

A branch cracked in the distance, and I stood up straight, drawing my gun. When I turned back toward Alina, she had a Glock aimed at my chest. She must’ve gotten it from the car without me noticing.

Women were just surprising me left and right tonight.

I raised my arms and took a step back, but she moved with me. Pavel’s wife was fierce. Strong. I approved.

“Toss the gun,” she demanded.

“Alina, my name is Roman Yegor Ivanov. I’m your husband’s cousin.”

“No.” Her hand shook as she took another step forward and pressed the gun against my flesh. “You’re lying. Toss the gun.”

“How would you like me to prove it to you?” I asked, tossing my gun on the ground a few feet away.

Her eyes scanned me, head to toe. “I’ve met his brothers, his cousins, all the Ivanovs. You don’t look like them.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Story of my life.

“You’re just going to have to trust me on this one.”

I took another step back. She followed, slipping a little on the wet leaves.

“Yeah, well, the only man I trust was just taken from me, so back off.” The bite in her words was impressive, but her movements worsened the bleeding.

She was bleeding. Pregnant. In shock. I had to get her help. She needed a doctor. Soon.

And she was wasting time I didn’t have.

The longer this took, the further away Pavel got. With every second, I fell further behind.

I reached into my back pocket, and she raised the gun. The muzzle shook. She was going to shoot me without even meaning to at this rate.

“I’m just getting my phone,” I said, pausing and raising my hands again. “I need to let the others know where we are so they can make sure you’re okay.”

“You think I’m stupid?” she fired back.

“No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’ve just been in a car accident, and I need to get you to safety. I’m losing my patience, and the longer I spend trying to convince you not to shoot me, the longer I’m not looking for your husband.”

“I don’t believe you,” she spat. “Pavel never told me about you. You don’t look like them. You don’t talk like them. How do I know you’re not here trying to take me too?”

“Because the helicopter they loaded Pavel onto already left. Artem and Kostya will be here soon. I’m just trying to get you up closer to the road so they can get you to a hospital.”

“I don’t believe you,” she snapped again, a bit of hysteria creeping into her words before she swayed on her feet.

Too much fear.

Too much stress.

Not enough trust.

“What you believe is really none of my concern.” It was taking more effort than it should to keep my tone civil. I was losing my grip on my temper.

I had no experience comforting upset women.

Relationships weren’t exactly my strong suit, especially in my line of work.

The only thing that stopped me from just leaving her here was knowing how hard Pavel would kick my ass if I did.

The helicopter had left, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more Los Infideles members in the woods. They could have used her to pressure and torment Pavel.

It was what I would’ve done. Then again, I had no soul.

Time to move this along; a hysterical pregnant woman bleeding out while holding a gun on me was not the best situation to find myself in.

Too many variables.

Too many ways this could end badly. Like with a bullet in my chest… or worse.

I couldn’t afford to be slowed down.

Pavel couldn’t afford for me to be slowed down.

I looked past her, toward the road—just long enough for her to turn her head. In one motion, I snatched the gun, ejected the mag and round, and tossed it aside.

“Now, are you going to listen? Or are you going to make this harder and keep me from getting him back?”