r 151
-Hailey-
Anatoly took another drag of his cigarette. He was waiting for me to speak.
I opened my mouth, and words came out without much thought.
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“Just… stop,” I blurted. I took a step forward and the two guards tensed behind him, but Anatoly held up a dismissive hand. “Just stop. Please. Rethink this.”
Another drag, another cloud of smoke billowing into the night.
‘What you’re doing…” I continued. “To the club, to Riverstone…. you can have whatever you’re here for. I mean… not *have* it, but… you could come to an agreement. With Logan and Talon. You don’t have to burn it all down. They’re… they’re reasonable men.”
Obviously a lie. Logan was many things, but reasonable in the face of an enemy was not one of them. “They want what’s best for the club. For the city. This… doesn’t have to be violent.”
He exhaled a plume of smoke that hung in the air between us. “Do I strike you as a man interested in sharing?”
“Then take what you want!” My voice cracked. “Take the docks, the distribution… whatever. Leave the clubhouse. Leave our people alone. There’s enough for everyone. It doesn’t have to be this way.”
I gestured to Shawn, who was still watching me with a mixture of hope and terror. “He’s proof it doesn’t have to be this way! He’s not even in the club! He’s an innocent bystander!”
‘Hailey,” Shawn whispered.
I’m sorry,” I said to him, pleading for him to understand. “I’m trying to help.”
‘Collateral damage,” Anatoly corrected me. “This is a direct result of your actions, Hailey. That is how this works. This isn’t about real estate or narcotics. It is about demonstrating that your way – the loyal, emotional way — is structurally unsound. It is a house of cards. And I… am a gentle breeze.”
He dropped what was left of the cigarette and crushed it into the gravel under his shoe. “Unfortunately, it does have to be his way. There can be no truce.”
‘Why not?” The words came out of me in a choked sob,
It was useless, though. He had drained the last fluid ounce of desperate hope from my veins. He wasn’t here to negotiate. He was here to give a lecture, and Shawn was the visual aid.
Then why agree to meet me?” I asked, my voice hollow. “Why bring me here? To gloat?”
“To see your face,” he said flatly. “To watch you understand. True understanding is a rare thing. Most people die confused.”
My gaze flicked down to Shawn again. His eyes were squeezed shut now, and tears were from the corners. He was muttering something under his breath. A prayer or a curse.
Anatoly’s hand moved again to his jacket. Slower this time. He didn’t look away from me as his fingers shipped inside.
“No,” I breathed.
He pulled out a gun. It wasn’t some massive, intimidating piece. It was a revolver Almost elegant. He held it loosely at his
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The silence was stretched so thin I could hear the blood roaring in my own ears.
He made his decision.
He lowered the muzzle from the back of Shawn’s head.
The gunshot shattered the night as he shot him through the shoulder instead.
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Shawn didn’t scream. He jerked forward and collapsed onto the gravel. He looked stunned for a second, like he was trying to igure out if he was still alive or not. Then the pain hit him, and an agonized cry ripped from his throat. He curled onto his side.
stood frozen in place. The world tilted. The white light vibrated. I felt my knees give out, and I hit the gravel hard.
didn’t feel it, though. All I felt was the echoing crack of the gunshot, over and over.
Anatoly lowered the gun. He stepped over to where Shawn lay moaning, then lifted his eyes to me.
‘Now you match,” he murmured. He looked almost amused.
The words didn’t make sense at first. They floated in the ringing void. Match?
Then it clicked the scar on my shoulder from Becker’s bullet.
–
He knew. He’d studied my medical records, my life, down to the scars on my skin.
You’re sick,” I muttered, looking up at him as tears welled in my eyes. “Like, seriously fucking sick. Did you escape from a nental hospital?”
He ignored me. “Take her,” he said casually to his goons. He tucked the gun back into his jacket.
Hands closed around my upper arms and hauled me to my feet. My legs wouldn’t support my weight. The guards held me
pright and I knew their grips were going to leave bruises.
Like the ones I used to get from Matt.
Round and round in circles.
I couldn’t look away from Shawn. He was still curled on the ground. His moans had subsided into shallow, pained whimpers, and blood was spreading across his shirt.
‘Hailey! Status! What’s happening?” Sam’s voice cracked through my ear.
The guard to my left pulled out a plastic zip tie and wrenched my arms behind my back. The edges of the plastic sawed at my wrists as he pulled it tight.
‘Sam, they’re taking me,” I yelled out as loud as I could. If they didn’t already know about my earpiece, I was going to do my best to keep it that way. “It’s okay.”
“The hell it is,” Sam barked in my ear.
“Shawn’s hurt,” I continued shouting. “He’s bleeding. It’s bad. Please help him. Don’t let him die here.”
“I’ve got him, Hailey,” Sam murmured. “I’m moving in. Just stay alive. Do you hear me? Stay alive.”
The guards started to half–drag, half–walk me toward the idling Mercedes. I didn’t fight it. There was no point.
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One of them opened the front passenger door for Anatoly, who slid in without a backward glance. Then they opened the
rear door and shoved me inside.
I landed awkwardly on the tan leather seat. My tied hands jammed painfully into the small of my back. One of the guards climbed in after me. The other slid behind the wheel.
The guard beside me reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a black sack.
The same one they’d used on Shawn. How economical of them.
I could tell when he yanked it over my head… because it smelled just like him. Took me back to the night I’d spent on his couch.
I hoped he knew how sorry I was, for all of this
The rough fabric scratched my cheeks. It was suddenly, utterly dark. My hearing sharpened, though.
I heard the soft thunk of the driver closing his door, a murmured Russian conversation in the front seat, and then the almost silent purr of the engine as we began to roll forward.
We were moving. Away from the light. Away from Shawn. Away from Sam.
Away from Logan.
The reality of it finally broke through the numbness. I was in a car with a monster, being taken to a place I didn’t know, and no one knew where I was.
Logan would be looking in all the wrong places. He’d think I ran. He’d think I betrayed him. The note I’d left would confirm every suspicion he’d nursed over the last few days.
A sob tried to climb up my throat. I choked it back and swallowed hard.
“Hailey.” Sam’s voice was in my ear again. She was whispering. “Don’t worry. I’ve got Shawn. He’ll be fine. An ambulance is two minutes out. Don’t speak, just listen.”
I stayed perfectly still, with my head bowed under the hood.
“I’ve already got them tracking your earpiece,” Sam continued quietly. “The signal’s weak but holding. Try not to let them find it. Cough once if you can still hear me.”
I let out a single quiet cough into the stifling darkness of the sack.
A faint sigh of relief hissed in my ear. “Good. Just sit tight. We’ll find you. I promise.”
The promise was a tiny, fragile flame in the dark. And it sparked something in me.
I had no idea where they were taking me. I had no idea what would happen when we got there.
But I was certain about two things.
One, I’d just earned myself a much closer look at the inner workings of Anatoly’s world.
And two, I was about to make myself entirely his problem.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.