Chapter 102
1558words
'Mi gotovi," Mila says. We're ready.
Casting my gaze over her head, I look around in the low lights. The snow has stopped falling, but the heavy clouds remain. The homes on the street are as quiet as graves. Just around the bend is the division that's currently under construction. It makes sense for Yannick to have set up here. There's no one else living in the other homes. Most aren't even finished being built.
Once we move ahead, there'll be no one to hear what happens. We'll be acting under near-total cover of darkness. There are streetlamps here, positioned one after the other like kids lined up for school, but around the corner there's only one. The plan to use snipers was scrapped when we realized there wouldn't be a good line of sight. It's a small setback.
'Asher?" Mila prods.
Pulling my black gloves tighter against my wrists, I peer back down the road. None of my men are visible, but I know where every single one of them is positioned. 'Go with the second team. I need you with them." If things go wrong ...
'I'm not good with a team, you know that," she grumbles. 'Let me go in alone. I'll kill any soldier he's put on guard before they know I'm there."
'Not this time. I won't have a repeat of the Winter Palace." My brigadiers have formed a perimeter around the area. I'm certain we'll have the upper hand. But if not, we won't make it easy for Yannick.
Mila scowls openly at me. She's dressed herself differently for once; pure white from her ski mask down to her boots. Not a single strand of her black hair escapes. She's right that no one will see her coming. 'This won't be like last time."
'I know," I agree coolly, staring pointedly at her, 'because you're joining the second team."
'Blyat." Crossing her arms, she holds out for a few seconds. When she accepts that I'm not changing my mind, she stalks past me toward the opposite end of the street, away from the division. 'You're lucky I trust you."
'Yes," I whisper, soft enough that she won't hear. 'I am."
Doing a quick check of my Asheral under my jacket, I begin walking down the street. Unlike Mila, I'm not dressed to hide. I want Yannick to see me. I want him to shake with rage as he watches me approach.
There'll be no question who killed him when this is done.
The snow crunches under my boots. The road hasn't been plowed here. I slow down, noticing tire tracks. A car has come through recently. His men? Or Yannick himself? It's not one of mine, that's certain.
Frowning, I grip my pistol in its holster under my jacket. It brings me some comfort as I creep along the road. My toes are going numb, but I don't slow down. Rocks could start falling from the sky and I wouldn't walk away. I'm too close to ending this. Camila's face flashes in my mind—the way she looked at me as I forced her from the room with Mila holding her tight.
You're going to regret this.
That's what she said. And she might be right. I'll do what I have to, I think, slipping my gun into the air. I check the safety before inching around a large, raised hill of snow. With it gone, I can see straight into the developing neighborhood. The massive diggers and bulldozers look like old relics, patches of yellow paint gleaming in the streetlamp where the snow has slid away. The houses are in various stages of construction; most are just framework, their hollow insides exposed to the elements.
The tire tracks I noticed swerve in a long, snake-like trail, ending at a green Subaru. I hardly notice it. My attention is fixed on the group just beyond the car. They're standing in front of one of the unlit houses, the only people around. Waiting for me.
Yannick wraps his arm tighter around Camila's throat. She's gripping his forearm, eyes big and shining and staring right at me.
Camila! I think, not daring to utter it. How did she end up here? Beside her is Katinka. And just behind her is the small boy I met a few nights ago.
Roman looks terrified.
I lift my gun high in the air. 'Using your own daughter as a shield? I shouldn't be surprised. Where are your men? They're the ones meant to protect you."
Yannick's chuckle echoes into the night sky. 'They're around. Same as yours, no doubt."
'Asher!" Camila shouts.
The rage I'd been trying to keep a hold on surges forth. He has no fucking right to touch her. My finger twitches on the gun's trigger. I'm salivating to put a bullet in his brain, but I can't risk hitting Camila. 'Let her go, Yannick."
'Why would I do that?" he scoffs.
Camila tries to shuffle forward, but Yannick pulls her back. 'Asher, please, just run!" she begs me.
My throat tightens up when I speak. 'It's going to be okay, Camila. I promise."
'How sweet," Yannick says. Pressing his head against Camila's, he releases a light sigh. 'I'd never be capable of such kindness toward someone who betrayed me."
The tip of my gun lowers an inch. 'What are you talking about?"
A flash of shame works through Camila's face. Her eyebrows tilt downward, copying the shape of her pink lips.
What did she do?
Tugging at Camila's hair absently, Yannick smiles viciously at me. 'How did Camila know where I was? How did she end up here before you did?"
'Asher …" she whimpers plaintively.
'She says your name like she actually loves you!" he laughs. 'She's a very good liar, isn't she?"
Shoving at his arm, Camila tries to break away, but Yannick clings to her even tighter. 'I'm not a liar!" she cries.
'Camila didn't betray me," I tell Yannick. 'You can't trick me into believing that."
'I don't have to trick you. Here, see for yourself." He tosses something toward me. My grip tenses on my gun; I almost aim at him, ready to fire on instinct alone. I hold back because I might hit Camila or Katinka. The phone slides to a stop in the snow at my feet, leaving a small wake.
'What's this?" I demand.
'Go on, have a look," he coaxes me.
Crouching without taking my eyes off him, I pick up the phone. My attention flicks between it and Yannick. The screen blinks to life at a press of my thumb. There are messages, lots of them. They're all between Camila … and Yannick? My stomach begins to turn itself inside out the longer I read. 'No," I whisper.
'It's like I said." His smirk could cut glass. 'She's a very good liar."
The phone falls to the ground. Everything feels numb, but not from the cold. Clenching my fist, I try to warm my sluggish muscles. Betrayal has slowed me down, making me confused and weak. How could she do this?
'Camila … why?" I ask in disbelief.
'Asher! It's not what it looks like!" she screams, her voice shattering.
She came here by herself … She planned this ... all of it ... right under my nose. And for what? To stop me from killing Roman? She chose his life over mine?
I lift my eyes, glaring savagely at Yannick. She won't stop me from ending this, not when I've come this far.
Camila thrashes in Yannick's grip, pulling toward me. Her eyes drip with tears. Both her cheeks and nose have gone a blazing red, as dark as her lips, which are curled back as she sobs. Lifting my gun, I stare down the muzzle, trying to hold it steady. It wavers between Camila and Yannick.
I have to kill him.
This is my chance.
I can't shoot … not when I might hit her.
Camila ...
The tip of the gun angles downward until it's pointing at the snow. No amount of hurt I feel could make me risk her life. As long as Yannick is using her as a shield, I can't fire. I have to think—I need a plan, and fast. There has to be a way to?—
A roar splits the air. It echoes through the wind, bouncing off the snow and ice and through my teeth. It's so loud it hurts.
No, it's not the noise that hurts. It's more than that. This is …
The pain billows up and out. The intensity spreads from my ears to my flesh. Helplessly, I watch as my gun drops to the ground. The feeling has vanished from my hand like the nerve endings have been sliced straight off. I try to kneel and pick it up, but no part of me is listening anymore. Messages from my brain to my body are getting stopped.
'Camila …" I gasp, dropping limply to my knees in the snow.
She is shrieking my name. But she sounds so far away.
All at once the agony strikes me—I inhale sharply, placing a palm to my side where the pain is radiating from. It's warm and wet. My fingers come away, soaked in red.
And that's when I realize …
I've been shot.
