Page 19 of Hunt Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #1)

B ristol

I was sweaty and smelled bad.

My body was sore from the extreme workout.

I’d yet to wolf down a scrap of food since I’d been embroiled in rage and feeling sorry for myself. And I was craving an entire bottle of wine.

Plus, I was running low on gas, my sister’s concern Mr. Pavel didn’t like his food arriving either late or cold taken to heart.

I’d also been forced to wait an extra ten minutes for the hot and crispy pizza to be ready due to a little fire in the kitchen.

My luck wasn’t getting any better. The entire time my stomach had rumbled and I’d been ready to take a bite out of the cardboard box holding the steamy, delicious-smelling pizza.

Maybe Mr. Richy-Rich would provide a decent tip. At least that was something that could brighten my day.

My sister owed me more than just one favor. Picking up a hot pizza with all the toppings from Sal’s Pizzeria was fine since the tiny store was only a couple of miles from the apartment, but the housing development where the customer lived was on the other side of Vegas.

In the rich section of town.

Driving with the scents making my mouth water had been sheer torture.

An unforgivable sin.

I only hoped Callie was right and the man was a huge tipper. At least I knew he wasn’t one of the nuts I’d encountered.

The closer I came to the development, the larger homes had become, now including massive estates protected behind stone walls and massive gargoyles. Every community was protected, several of them the size of small cities complete with their own zip code and police departments.

As I pulled in through the gate, I was surprised there were no guards on duty. Maybe the feature was meant as a decorative deterrent and nothing else.

At least the area was well lit. I moved through the quiet streets, finally making the last turn.

The man’s home was nestled in the curve on a cul-de-sac, the house set back from the road.

I parked on the street, quickly jumping out and grabbing the pizza.

I didn’t care how grand the neighborhood was; I locked the doors, shoving the key fob to my Cruze into my jeans pocket.

As I walked down the long dark driveway, a strange sense of the creepy-crawlies caused me to look over my shoulder a couple of times. Thank God for the almost full moon. At least I wasn’t tripping over my feet. I was surprised Mr. Pavel hadn’t left the outside light on.

There was no reason to be nervous, yet as I headed toward the front door, the sensations grew stronger. I was on the stoop before I realized the door was open by a couple of inches. I heard sounds coming from inside.

Maybe the guy was on the phone and had left the door open on purpose. I rang the doorbell but didn’t hear anything coming from inside.

Yet I waited in case he just didn’t hear the bell. After a couple of minutes of the bottom of the box burning my hand, I knocked on the door. When I did, it swung open by a few inches and like out of a horror flick, the hinges creaked.

The foyer was dark, but I could see lights coming from a different area in the house.

Since Callie had been inside before, he’d been expecting her, and had left the door open.

The noise appeared to be coming from a television with the volume very loud.

“Hello?” Taking tentative steps, I moved just inside.

Oh, this was not the best decision I’d ever made, yet the quicker I could get this over with, the sooner I could be home holding a glass of wine.

Girl, you are crazy for doing this.

“Hello. Door Dash, Mr. Pavel, I have your pizza.” My voice was far too timid and likely not heard over the television, but I had to admit this made me very nervous.

Where I stood muffled the moonlight and I blinked several times, trying to allow my eyes time to adjust. Hearing nothing, I took another step inside.

I went down hard, tripping over something. The pizza flew from my hand, smashing against the wall. Even while I was going down, I had the good sense to snap my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted was to alarm the owner. Not that he wasn’t going to be pissed as hell.

When I landed, pain tore through my palms and knees, but something caught the brunt of my fall. I scuttled backward, managing to keep from crying out. Panting, my eyes became accustomed to the dim light. I squinted, trying to figure out what I’d tripped over.

Fuck. That hurt like hell. Breathing out, I tried to think of an adequate excuse not only for being in the man’s house, but for tossing the pizza all over his wall. I had a bad feeling this was my last night working for Door Dash.

I shook my head and realized there was something large in the middle of the room. A sculpture? No. A table? An eerie feeling swept down my spine as creepy-crawlies took over. This was so not good.

Was that… No. No. No.

Sweat beaded across my forehead.

Someone was lying on the foyer floor. Oh, my God. Hesitating, I blinked several more times in a crazy attempt to get my bearings.

Maybe Mr. Pavel had experienced a heart attack.

At least I knew CPR. I crawled closer, my hand shaking as I reached out.

“Mr. Pavel?” I touched his arm, shaking him slightly.

He was lying on his side. Cringing, I gently rolled him over, immediately reaching for his neck to check his pulse.

My hand hit something cold and hard, my fingers instantly wrapping around the object.

The moonlight streaming in through the now wide-open door provided a macabre illumination of my fingers holding the handle of a knife.

With the blade driven into Mr. Pavel’s chest.

Panic was immediately driven into my system. This wasn’t good. Oh, this was so bad. I released the knife, panting several times. There wasn’t a chance in hell that anyone would believe I’d stumbled onto the scene and just happened to have my hand, including my fingerprints, on the murder weapon.

Think, girl. Think.

Before I had a chance to react, Mr. Pavel gasped, the darkness unable to hide that he’d snapped his eyes wide open. He grabbed my wrist and I was shocked at his strength. I bit my lower lip to keep from wailing, shocked he had the strength to pull me down.

I could tell he was trying to say something. Leaning down, I held my breath.

“Ma…” The gurgling sound was worse. He was spitting up blood.

“I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Na… No,” he managed. “Mlad… brat. A… A…”

“What?” Hold on. Was that Russian? Yes, it was. This was bad. Oh, so bad. The fear tripled and for a few brief seconds, my thoughts drifted to the wedding and all the Russians who’d been in the room. “Okay. It’s going to be okay.”

His hot breath tickled my skin as fear rushed into every cell. Suddenly, his fingers relaxed, his arm slipping to the floor. With my hand shaking, I tentatively touched his neck. There was no pulse. Shit. Shit. Shit. What was I supposed to do?

He was suddenly very still. Too still.

Jerking my arm away and with my hand shaking, I pressed two fingers against the man’s neck, searching for the pulse.

He was dead, oh so dead.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My skin crawled as I fisted my hand, taking deep breaths.

My entire life could be destroyed because I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

So I did the unthinkable.

Using my shirt, I wiped the handle of the knife before I had a chance to think the act through. Startled by my horrific actions, I jerked back onto my butt, fighting tears.

Hating my actions.

Hating my life.

Still shaking, I knew I had to call the police. What the hell was I going to say now?

Voices. There was no doubt I heard voices coming from the other room. More than one. And the sound wasn’t coming from the television. Wait a minute. Oh, God. No. No. No. This was not happening.

I slapped my other hand across my mouth to keep from screaming as I struggled to my feet. He was dead. He’d been killed. No, idiot. He was murdered.

When I jerked backward, I was closer to the doorway leading into a large room. The loud voices caught my attention again and I lifted my head, shaking like a leaf. The darkness was like a tunnel, the bright light in the background highlighting another moment of horror.

There were two men dressed in dark clothing from head to toe. Both wearing masks.

Both carrying guns.

When one of the men turned toward where I was standing, I shrank back into the shadows. They were in full face ski masks, but his was pulled up to his scalp, allowing me to see his face. And the darkness in his eyes.

I could swear he was looking right at me. With my breath held I waited in silence, my nerves frazzled and terror sweeping through me. They’d killed Mr. Pavel in cold blood.

With my eyes pinned on the two men, I did everything I could not to fall apart. I had to get out of the house. If they caught me, I’d be dead. Finally, the assailant looking in my direction turned away, more animated than before.

I backed away and toward the door, being very careful not to knock anything over.

With the pizza on the floor, it wouldn’t take them long to figure out what had happened.

And eventually how to find the person who’d delivered the order.

My sister. I had to risk grabbing the box. I refuse to put her life in jeopardy.

Oh, this was so bad.

I was forced to step over the body, carefully pulling the box into my hand. Another sound drew my attention. Footsteps.

While the fear was almost crippling, I slipped to the door and outside. As soon as I was, I took off running down the driveway. I threw my head over my shoulder only once. While I saw no one, it was only a matter of seconds before the goons realized someone had stumbled on the scene.

My hands were slippery and only when I reached the car did I realize the reason. I held one hand into the light, whimpering softly. My fingers and palm were covered in blood, the coppery stench filling my nostrils. Stars floated in front of my eyes.

I heard their voices again, only this time they were coming from outside. Jerked back to reality, I managed to concentrate as I jerked the key fob into my hand, unlocking the door.

The extra push caused the lights to flash. I jumped in, trying not to think or look toward the house as I shoved the key into the ignition. I purposely turned off the automatic lights and rolled down the street.

With my hands clenching the steering wheel, I finally glanced into the rearview mirror.

And could swear I noticed two figures rushing into the road.