Page 104 of Silent Ties

“Daisy, can you open the door?” There’s no point trying to knock it down myself.

A bang makes me stop. It’s not coming from behind Daisy’s door, though.

“Back up!” I shout. Ten seconds later I shoot a door handle off. Wide, black eyes peek out. “Who can open that door?” I point at the room I want.

The girl shakes her head.

“Only Marissa right?” I ask. She nods. “You by yourself in there?”

She opens the door wider, nodding again.

“Gloria keeps a key for the doors downstairs.” She loves keeping the girls she pimps out locked up. “Either use it to help the others or stay here.”

The scrawny girl lingers in the doorway. I don’t have time to help her ponder her life choices.

I silently count the bullets I have left. Do I really want to head toward Marissa’s innermost den? It’s guarded to the teeth and they know I’m coming.

There is no going back.

Well, there’s a little going back. I retrace my steps coming out by the railing when a bullet lodges into the wall beside me. My eyes follow the trajectory and I step toward the banister.

Look who managed to sort of pull himself together.

I never thought it possible Hardin Davison could be productive. Turns out he just needed his balls shot off for him to learn how to think straight.

Not that he isn’t a bleeding mess. I look down at him, where he’s scooted across the floor, a trail of blood pooling around him. He lifts a gun, aiming right at me from where he sits on the ground floor.

I remain where I am, standing over the banister. Deep down I know how likely the possibility is that he’ll take me out.

But no man will ever see me flinch again.

His finger moves.

Blood splatters on the floor, his body thumping to the side with a dull thud.

Max, gun still pointed at Davison, stares straight at me.

Good timing.

I push away from the railing, a tad bit more confident now that the Russiansare here.

It was only a matter of time, but I didn’t know what mess they would find.

“Russet.” Max runs up the stairs, guards spilling around him. Dima and Elijah creep behind, slow and steady. I’m touched—even Roma’s here.

Fingers catch my shoulder, digging into flesh I thought I couldn’t feel.

“What the fuck are you doing.”

Max doesn’t yell. It’s harsh darkness in his voice, though, and painfully tight shoulders. His usual apathetic bored mask crumbles, and fury lights his smoldering eyes.

I jerk away, turning my back to him.

I’d walk away too, but I don’t need to.

Marissa stands, gun in hand, ready to shoot me.

“Can’t control your wife, can you, Zimin.”