Page 32 of Run, Little Rabbit (Blood & Bonds #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sphinx

“ P lease don’t tell me you mean Maxim Volkov,” I say with a groan.

“Yep,” she replies, popping the ‘p’.

“I really hate that guy.” Although I don’t hate him quite as much as I did before I found the folder on Bennie’s phone with my dad’s name on it. I always thought the guy had been responsible for murdering my entire family, but he was just in the wrong place and the wrong time. Go fucking figure.

Ten years ago, my dad had been working for Maxim—that much I knew. He kept Maxim’s accounts and managed his books. Money had gone missing, and I had thought that Maxim had killed my father and the rest of my family because he assumed my father had taken it.

I’d come home from school to find him standing over my sister’s body, and I’d put two and two together and thought I’d gotten four. Turns out, Max had been there to warn my dad. He was just too late.

That’s all the information that was in the folder. It didn’t tell me who was responsible for killing my family or who was skimming from Maxim. Guess I will have to ask the asshole myself.

“Fine. I’ll help but on one condition.”

She narrows her eyes at me, and I’m reminded that I’m looking into the face of a killer. I’d only half told the truth about guessing her alter ego. I was about 85% sure I was right, but there was still a nagging doubt, and she completely eliminated it when I posed my question.

“What condition?”

“I want five minutes alone with Max.”

Her eyes narrow even more, which is slightly unsettling. “Why?”

I purse my lips, unsure of how much information I’m willing to part with. It's not that I don't trust Echo; I do, but I'm not sure how I feel about opening all of those wounds in front of her. “Because I think Maxim might know about what happened to my family.”

She tips her head to one side, her green eyes a little sorrowful. “Why do you think that?”

I look at my coffee mug and sigh, readying myself for the trip down a traumatic memory lane. “We’re going to need something stronger than this.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t say anything. I can feel her gaze burning a hole in my back as she watches me grab a bottle of top-shelf vodka and two shot glasses.

I pour two shots and then clink my glass against hers. “ Za zdar’ovye .”

She throws me a curious look, but my years of hiding out with a ragtag collection of Eastern European smugglers aren’t a talking point today.

Echo winces as she downs her vodka, and I chuckle. I’m quite fond of it now, but I think that’s probably down to the fact that drinking so much of it for a few years burnt away any of my finer taste buds.

“So…” Echo says, dragging the syllable out.

“So?”

She sighs in exasperation and pours us another shot. “Tell me everything.”

Well, that isn’t going to happen. There’s too much history and not enough time. Besides, I’ve kept my secrets for so long, buried them so deeply, that I’m not sure what will happen if I unleash them. Same thing as Pandora, probably.

It’s silly, really. I’m twenty-eight, and no one knows my real name anymore, apart from Maxim fucking Volkov. And even then, he’s probably forgotten it. And I’ve just discovered that my only sort of real friend is a serial killer who leaves a cute little calling card.

“A long time ago, in a house far, far away—”

Echo snorts. “You’re such a geek.”

“Don’t interrupt unless you have a decent question,” I admonish. “You already know I lost everyone; well, that includes both my parents and my little sister.”

Shit, even just saying the words out loud have me faltering a little, those memories clawing their way out of the deep pit I buried them in.

“My parents had regular jobs, nothing out of the ordinary. At least, that’s what I thought growing up.

Mum was a nurse, Dad was an accountant and Briony was going to be a ballet star.

” I chuckle softly at the memory of her twisting and pirouetting down the hallway in her new pointe shoes.

“She was a beautiful dancer. I, of course, teased the shit out of her for it, but I absolutely believed she would be on some stage dancing with the best of them.”

Echo squeezes my hand and scoots her chair closer. “If she’s got any of the same determination you have when you’re in the ring, I imagine Briony would have danced her socks off until she made it.”

I flinch a little, hearing someone else say Briony’s name.

I haven’t heard it said aloud by someone else in such a long time; it sounds foreign.

“My dad had debts. I didn’t know just how bad they were until he died and I found his ledger.

I’m pretty sure Mum knew; I just don’t think she knew how bad either.

He liked to gamble, and one night, he gambled in the wrong casino. ”

“Whose?”

I cock an eyebrow. “Whose do you think?”

“The Volkovs?”

“Bingo. Although it was run by Maxim’s father, Dimitri, at the time. And, instead of standing on his own two feet and working the debt off himself, my dad offered up my skills as payment.”

“The fuck?”

If I wasn’t so wrapped up in all this old history, I’d chuckle at how outraged she is on my behalf.

“Yep, even back then I was a highly skilled hacker, and apparently that appealed to Dimitri Volkov, so I became my dad’s repayment plan for the next five years.

At eighteen, I was working for a Bratva boss and trying to finish my studies.

I hated it, and I resented my dad for it.

The last day I saw him, we argued about it.

Dimitri had put another year on my indenture as interest, and I was pissed.

The last thing I said to my dad was that I wished he was dead because then his debt would be fucking paid.

And then I’d left. Walked right out the door and left them.

If I’d have been there, maybe there would be a chance that they’d still be alive. ”

“You can’t know that, and you can’t blame yourself, Sphinx. You were still just a boy, and you should never have been put in that position in the first place.”

I knew this, but it didn't change the fact that I felt guilty about being the one who survived.

“How does Max fit in all this?” Echo asks softly.

I take a deep breath and release it on a shaky exhale.

“That night, after I’d been hanging in the park with my friends, getting high and just trying not to wallow in how shit my life was looking, I went home and found my entire family slaughtered.

Like fucking cattle.” The images of them all lying there, covered in blood, haunt me to this day.

And the blood was everywhere. It coated the walls and the floor.

Handprints. Arterial sprays. Drag marks.

The whole place had looked like a scene from a horror movie.

“Maxim was there when I got home, standing over the bodies.” I’d always liked Maxim.

He wasn’t much older than me, and I think he was just looking for someone to connect with who wasn’t Bratva through and through.

“I think he tried to stop me from seeing everything, but at the time, I thought he was attacking me to finish the job. So, I ran. I ran and ran and never looked back. And I blamed Maxim for it until I decoded that fucking phone.”

Echo frowns and purses her lips. “Why did you think it was Max?”

“Besides the fact that he was standing over the bodies?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not trying to defend the guy; I’m just wondering if Max’s father was so determined to keep you under his thumb, why all of a sudden would he have Max kill your family?”

“Well, you know I said Dad was an accountant?”

“Yeah.” An adorable little crease appears over her nose. “Wait. He was Volkov’s accountant?”

“Yep. He came home one night in a panic, saying something about money and product going missing and how he was going to get the blame. He was frantic.” I’d never seen my father as scared as I had that night.

“I guess Dimitri figured it was my father who’d been skimming to pay his debt back and set me free.

But no one steals from the Volkovs and gets away with it. ”

Echo flops back in her seat, her eyes wide as she digests everything I’ve said. “What was on the phone?”

“CCTV footage from across the street showing someone leaving just before Maxim got there. I guess whoever committed the crime had it wiped before the police got hold of a copy. To this day, my family’s murder is still unsolved. I just want some answers, Echo. I owe my family that much.”

“Okay. Then let’s get them.”

I cock my eyebrow. “Just like that, huh?”

“Yep,” she says, popping that fucking ‘P’ like bubblegum, a dopey grin plastered on her face. “We’re friends. Friends help each other out.”

I stare so hard at her that her smile drops and her bravado falters.

“We are, aren’t we? Friends?”

I snort and shake my head. “Yes. We’re friends.”

She fist pumps the air. “Yeah, baby!”

“You’re a dork.”

“Nah-ah. You can’t say that. We’re friends ,” she sings, and I am already regretting agreeing to this friendship.

“It’s part of the rules. I can insult you, and you can’t get pissed at me.”

“Pfft. That is not how it works.”

“It’s how friendship with me works.” I shrug. “Take it or leave it.”

“Fine, but know I’m going to insult you right back, you knobjockey.”

I raise my brow. “Knobjockey?”

“Yes. That’s the insult I’m going with and I’m sticking to it.”

“Alright, killer. If that’s the hill you want to die on.”

She folds her arms across her chest. “Absolutely.”

Her mouth twitches, which ruins the deadly stare she’s trying to throw my way.

“You’re an ass,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“Careful now, you roll those eyes too hard, and you might actually find your brain.”

I down another shot, the alcohol burning my throat and settling in my stomach like fire. “I’m not even dignifying that with an answer.”

“Boo,” she slurs slightly.

I pull the vodka bottle a bit closer to me. “No more for you.”

“Boo,” she says again, a chuckle escaping her smile.

“Come on. Let’s organise sending this blackmail to your father.”

She claps her hands and lets out a little squeal of excitement. “I knew you’d be on board with my excellent plan.”

I snort and walk over to my computer. “I just don’t want to be your next victim.”

“Pssht, like that is ever going to happen.”

“Never say never, killer.” I pull up the file on her mum and—

The front door slams open, and Veon storms in looking all fierce and intimidating. No one should look that good while pissed off.

“We’ve got to go. Now,” Veon snaps, and something in his tone has me standing to attention.

In more ways than one.

Veon scowls at me. “Not you. Family only.”

His words cut like a knife. Jeez, I know I’m not family, but I can be fucking useful.

“What’s happened?” Echo asks, all traces of alcohol vanishing in her worry.

Veon’s gaze loses some of its harshness as he turns towards her. “There’s been an explosion at the South Side Warehouse. Your father has called an emergency meeting.”

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and mumbles, “Shit.”

Guess she missed the notifications blowing up her phone. Now I just felt guilty.

“Any casualties?” she asks as she gets herself ready to leave. It’s like watching a switch flip in her eyes as she jumps into action.

Veon shakes his head. “Just some minor injuries.”

“Good.” Echo pulls a card out of her bra and places it in front of me. “Send those pictures with this.”

I can already feel the scowl of disapproval against my face as Veon looks at me, but I don’t care. I’m too distracted by the infamous calling card of the Six Minute Killer. It’s there, in black and white and shades of fucking pink. How the police think that Six is a man, I’ll never know.

I don’t know how long I stare at it, but by the time I drag my eyes away from it, Veon and Echo have gone, leaving me alone to blackmail the leader of the Irish Mob.

No pressure then…