Page 69 of Climbing Everest

Everest

I t wasn’t anything I did. My mom simply hates me for existing.

I think it might feel better if she was jealous of me for some reason, or that she worried I would inherit my father’s crap if he died.

Nope. It’s merely because my heart beats.

Well, you know what? Fuck her.

Since the moment Kato signaled for me to hole up in the bedroom, it feels as though hours have passed, but can’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes.

I’ve heard the cracks of gunfire, but I refuse to believe my other two loves are dead. I would feel it, wouldn’t I? I would feel the loss of a piece of my soul if one or both of them are dead.

Thing is, the gunfire has stopped. And neither of my husbands or even one of the guards that had been positioned around the property has come bursting through the front door yet.

Okay, E. Think.

There has to be a way to get the upper hand, or at least distract Mikhail or Eriks long enough for Kato to get one of their firearms.

I’ve been doing what I can to stall, to keep their attention on me as much as possible, but no way will two guards who’ve been with my father nearly as long as I’ve been alive underestimate Kato.

But not me. Or at least that’s my hope.

I’m sure my dad has a weapon holstered, but he hasn’t pulled it out. If I can get to one of the guards, pull the attention from Kato for even a split second, he can disarm one of them and turn the tables.

Or I could end up getting us both shot. He’s already bleeding way too much, his shirt soaked in crimson, and he looks far too pale for my liking.

But my husband won’t show the enemy any weakness. He’s not swaying, not wincing from pain. He’s standing tall, keeping me tucked close to him and a little behind his body as though ready to lunge in front of me at the drop of a hat.

I have to do something, though, damn it.

Still staring at my mom, I check the location of where Mikhail and Eriks are both standing and decide Eriks is my better option. He’s already injured and seems to be preoccupied with constantly wiping away blood and gingerly touching his hopefully broken nose.

Lunging at him, I wrap my hands around both his wrists and shove his arms upward.

The jackass had his finger on the trigger and the crack of gunfire makes my ears ring as a bullet lodges in the ceiling.

I keep my sole focus on him, even when Mikhail whirls on me, the muzzle of his gun pointed at me.

That only lasts a second before Kato tackles him to the ground.

All that happens in my peripheral. I have no idea whether Kato has control or not. I’m too focused on keeping Eriks from lowering his gun and putting a bullet in me this time.

Just like before, it feels as though the series of a few heartbeats lasts an hour, like we’re moving in slow motion.

When the front door swings open so hard the knob lodges in the drywall, I’m not sure whether to cry in relief or despair. I can’t take my eyes away from one of the assholes responsible for nearly ruining my life long enough to ascertain whether the newcomer is friend or foe.

When a rumbling voice roars a slew of threats and curses, my heart nearly leaps from my chest. I would know that voice in the middle of a crowd.

Brix is here. I have to assume Maddox is, too. I refuse to accept anything else.

A large body blurs past me, knocking Eriks away from me and nearly taking me down in the process.

I barely catch myself before I tumble on top of the two men. Madd is straddling Eriks’ shoulders, his arm flying forward over and over as he pummels Eriks’ already ruined nose, sending splatters of blood in the air to splash against Madd’s face, his throat, his exposed arms, even my legs.

While my husbands are focused on Eriks and Mikhail, I turn my attention to my parents.

Brix is holding my father in the air by his throat as my father’s face turns a mottled purple and he kicks his feet out while clawing at Brixton’s hands.

My mom…

Maybe these slow-motion moments aren’t the curse they felt at first, because I have enough clarity to realize she’s reaching for the back of my father’s pants, presumably for the gun.

Not today, bitch .

I lost my child. I lost four years of life with my husbands. I almost lost my life.

All because of this bitch.

“No!” I screech like a banshee as I lunge for her. She moves to the side, but not fast enough. We both tumble to the ground. She didn’t get the gun, and she’s a lot more adept at fighting than I gave her credit for…

But I’m younger, faster, and had to protect myself for four fucking years. Because of her.

While she grabs at my hair and scratches my face, hands, and arms, I draw my arm back and punch her. One hit and she’s stunned stupid for a second. That’s all I need, really.

I wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze. Hard. She’s bucking and thrashing, trying to knock me off of her, but this fucking ends today.

This is not how I wanted her to die. I wanted her to suffer the way I had, I wanted her to feel pain and loss the way I had.

But dead is dead, and what better way than with my bare hands as she stares directly into my eyes?

Another gunshot echoes in the room, causing me to flinch a bit and roll my shoulders forward, but I don’t release my grip on my mom’s throat.

Maybe they haven’t killed my father yet and I’ll get the opportunity to do the honors.

Does that make me evil? A bad person?

Nah. Makes me a mother whose child was taken away before I ever had the chance to look into her eyes. It makes me a woman who was beaten so badly, I nearly died and took weeks for the injuries to heal.

It makes me a woman who refuses to let anyone, blood or not, fuck with the dream life I’m building with my husbands.

Rage builds and builds until my mom, the room, everything is washed in red. Hands still around her throat, I lift her and slam her head against the floor. Over and over and over. Each thud reminds me of a dying heartbeat, yet chips away at the pain I’ve been carrying.

I was alone for four years. Because of her.

I lost my child. Because of her.

I lost my loves. Because of her.

And now she wants to take my husbands away.

It isn’t until hands grab my shoulders and an arm wraps around my waist to lift me that I realize I’m screaming, a war cry tearing from my lips.

“Everest,” Brix’s deep voice grumbles near my ear. “Stop, baby. She’s dead. Stop,” he says as I struggle against his hold, determined to continue to choke the life out of Ada Sidorova.

Madd appears in front of me, blocking my view of my mother still lying on the floor. She isn’t moving, isn’t tossing out threats or insults.

Not climbing to her feet.

Maddox’s face resembles a Jackson Pollock painting with the blood smattering his face and neck, but all I see are his pretty green eyes, the look of anger and concern as he takes my face in both hands.

“It’s over, baby. Stop,” he says in an uncharacteristically calm voice.

My breathing saws in and out of my lungs, my heartbeat is loud in my ears, and I’m shaking. No idea whether the trembling is from adrenaline, rage, or fear. Maybe a combination of all three.

It’s over.

It’s over?

Pulling from Madd’s hands, I turn and look around the room. Kato is talking to a guard with blood trailing down one side of his face. Mikhail and Eriks are both on the ground unmoving. Eriks’ face resembles roadkill, as though Maddox literally smashed his face in with his fists.

Mikhail has a bloody hole in the center of his forehead and is lying in a puddle of blood that continues to grow by the second.

And my father, Dima Sidorov, is crumpled on the floor, his head tilted back revealing the open gash. Pretty sure if I look closely enough I’ll see his spine with how deeply someone cut into his throat.

It’s over.

We’re safe. We’re alive.

My parents will never again interfere with our lives.

Our nightmare is finally over. For the first time in four fucking years I feel as though I can take a full breath, and truly restart my life and build a future with the three men who own every inch of me, heart, body, and soul.