say you wanted to buy your mother and best friend a present from there?”
“Yes!” Everly tucks her phone into her coat pocket. “You might want to stay here. I take forever picking out presents. It’s a curse all Andrews women suffer from.”
I’m too damn concerned and anxious for her to be on her way to appreciate her humor, but I manage to give her a wink and say, “Enjoy yourself. There’s a business call I need to make anyway.”
She gives me a fleeting kiss, and then sets off in the direction of the store. I try to keep one eye on her and another on the man only steps away from us. Starting for him, I cut across the crowd of tourists and slip into the shadows. It’s not fully shielded from their eyes, but it will have to do.
“Nikolai, you fucking pussy,” he spits out once he reaches me. “How many lives do you have left?” There is a scar on the outer corner of his eye, pulling at his skin—a visible reminder of our last fight. He appears to be weaponless, but I know better. Besides, knowing what I do of him, he wants this to be personal. He’ll use a knife instead of a gun.
Everly enters the shop, and the door closes behind her.
Now, I am able to fully concentrate on the lunatic in front of me. “Been in a fight recently?” I ask pleasantly, palming my gun. Nothing enrages him more than being perceived as a non-threat. A man fighting with only anger to guide him rarely wins.
“How you managed to live is beyond me,” he says. “Who’s the woman?”
My mind reels. He has to know who she is, unless… Fuck, he must not be the one who’s put a hit on my half-brother. “New target.” Or she will be if I don’t find a way to get out of this mess I’m in.
Obviously stunned, Petrov cocks his head to one side. “She doesn’t look like your usual mark.”
“She’s in the way.”
“Welcome to the dark side, Nikolai. Too bad you won’t be staying long.”
Petrov lunges, a wicked blade catching the light as it slices through the air. I turn just in time, and the knife cuts through my coat instead of my flesh. Using his forward momentum against him, I kick Petrov in the gut, sending him stumbling backward. A surge of satisfaction rises when his breath leaves him on a whooshed-out groan.
Unfortunately, he manages to stay on his feet, winded but ready for more.
I reach for my gun.
His eyes narrow over a menacing grin, a new gold tooth flashing. “You won’t use it. No silencer.”
From my pocket, I pull out a silencer and screw it on, then aim at his head. “You were saying?”
“You think too much,” Petrov says as he whips out a gun and takes aim.
I’m faster. My bullet leaves the chamber with a muted bang before his finger squeezes the trigger, leaving a small, black hole in the center of his forehead.
“You talk too much.”
His eyes widen as he falls sideways. I wait for the light to dim in his eyes, and then kick him over the edge of the walkway. The river carries away the evidence of my crime.
There isn’t an ounce of regret for killing him, not even with my unanswered questions. He was a horrible human being who killed for the thrill of it—the right payout provided, of course.
I take a deep breath and wait for the gun to cool before I return it to its hiding place. When I was just a lad, I’d not waited, and the metal had burned like hell. My lower back still bears a small scar from it.
But this won’t scar me like the others. I feel nothing but satisfaction as I walk away from the riverfront.
So much for being a changed man.
Chapter Thirteen
M y hands are clean, and the gun is safely hidden by the time Everly exits the shop. I flex my fingers, eyeing the black tattoos that are inked onto my skin.
Well, my hands are mostly clean.
She swings a bag as she walks, her cheerful mood a beacon in the crowd. “I’m done,” she sings out.
Normally, this kind of attention would be unwelcome, but I am too jubilant at the thought of Petrov being eliminated.
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham