Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
He doesn’t need to repeat his earlier question. His expression exposes everything he wants to relay.
I nod. I can survive on the boat dangling off the stern for days. The blankets are as thick as a mattress, and the food is nonperishable. I made sure it could last decades when Alek was unsure if he was going on its first voyage with Ghost and Kirill. I couldn’t understand how such a large ship could stay afloat, so I made sure Alek had a way out.
“Get ready to run,” Feo mouths when the door to my room slowly creaks open.
I’m not surprised when my eyes lock with a head as fat as a watermelon. He sat with me for hours in the dungeon of the Bobrov compound. Although he didn’t taunt me like the other men, he did nothing to stop them. In my eyes, that makes him just as bad.
“What the fuck—”
Feo isn’t fast enough this time around. Watermelon Head grabs his wrist a second after his knife digs into his neck. The fighting skills both Yev and Feo harness quickly get Feo out of his hold, but I only see him get in one punch before he screams for me to run.
I hesitate for only a second before I sprint through the minute gap. I’m not leaving Feo defenseless. I’m diving for the gun Watermelon Head stuffs down the back of his trousers each morning.
His fist suspends midair when I squash it to the back of his head. I’m at that flabby bit of skin holding his fat head up because he’s too tall for me to reach any higher.
“You even think about touching that trigger, girlie… the next time you see my gun, I’ll be shoving it up your cunt.”
Feo’s fist saves me from adding killer to my list of skills. He knocks Watermelon Head out before dragging him into the room with the other motionless bodies.
“Give me that.” He removes the gun shaking in my hand before he closes the door and fixes the lock into place. After storing the key in the pocket of his blood-stained jeans, he asks, “Which way to the boat?”
I take a moment to register the difference between my sways and the lolls of the boat before answering, “This way.”
We run like we’re being chased. Down the corridors with women whimpering for us to help. Through the stacks of containers used to conceal the luxury of the ship’s insides, and across the floor still splattered with droplets of blood I’m praying isn’t Alek’s.
“What the…” My hands shoot up to wipe the sweat from my brow when my eyes lock with nothing but a turbulent, rocky ocean. I inch back to make sure I am looking at the right markings. When the exact spot Alek scratched at with a screwdriver for hours presents, I crank my neck to Feo. “It’s not here. It is gone.”
I spin to face the voice interrupting us, my footing unsteady.
“Because I knew they weren’t working alone.” Kirill looks well-rested despite the turmoil currently running rampant through his crew. Not even a demand as simple as forcing a woman through an abortion are being upheld because his crew has no respect for him. And neither do I. “And where else would you take her than the boat you delivered her to once a week for months of restorations.”
Feo doesn’t announce that he has him confused with Yev. He tugs me behind him in a protective manner before replying, “She is carrying Bratva blood. You can’t touch her.”
I don’t flinch at his reference that I am carrying mafia royalty. The bratva bloodline stretches incredibly far. If you look deep enough, every street kid in Kronstadt could have some lineage. It is the order that makes it important. A standing I didn’t realize could be a possibility when Kirill spits out, “Perhaps in Kronstadt but that rank means nothing here.”
“Henry—”
“Doesn’t run this ship!” Kirill is so angry the veins in his forehead look set to burst, and spit flies out of his mouth like venom.
And the chances of him exploding doubles when Feo mutters under his breath, “Yet he’s still had you jumping on cue the past week.”
I’m not exactly sure who Henry is. I’ve heard his name in passing, but I try to keep out of this side of Alek’s life. But Feo’s mock pisses Kirill off to no end, and he doesn’t take any prisoners when he’s annoyed.
I suck in a sharp, painful breath when he takes Feo out with a kill shot to the head. There’s no warning and no possibility of survival. The bullet races through his brain before exploding out the back of his skull and whizzing past my ear.
I can’t hold in my screams this time around. They tear from my throat with a sob as I fall to my knees to cradle Feo’s rapidly whitening cheeks in my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You should have never been a part of this.”