60. Andrey

60

ANDREY

I'm running as fast as I can.

Then I hear the gunshot, and I run faster.

I blow through the door of the shed, and there's too much happening to process.

Misha, bruised and battered on the floor, trapped underneath Nikolai's boot.

But Nikolai's eyes are fastened on the woman standing a few feet away in the shadows, her arm raised.

A gunshot cracks through the scene and Nikolai falls to his knees, eyes still locked on the woman I can't look away from, either.

Natalia steps forward, shattered light falling across her face. She's harsh and beautiful, an avenging angel with a babe clutched in one hand and a gun in the other.

"You are done hurting my children. You'll never touch them again."

Why did I think I needed to race over here and rescue her? This woman doesn't need rescuing.

Nikolai opens his mouth, but only blood spurts from his lips. Natalia stares at him in cold disgust.

But the second she looks away, her face softens. She drops to Misha's side and clutches his face.

He grabs her wrist. It takes him a few coughs to find his voice again, but when he does, he asks, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assures him. "And so is Grigory. Because of you."

" Lastochka ," I murmur, stepping into the cool gloom of the shed.

Misha's face breaks into a relieved grin when he sees me, but Natalia eyes me carefully. "I had to come, Andrey, and I'm not apologizing for it."

Like she thinks I could be upset with her right now. After what I just saw. I cup her face in my palm and press a kiss to her forehead. "I'm not asking you to apologize. You did brilliantly, little bird."

Grigory cries, and I press a kiss to the top of his head, too.

Then there's a groan from behind us.

Together, we turn to face the man bleeding out on the floor.

"Misha," Nikolai mumbles. His eyes are apathetic despite the fact he's on death's door.

Misha sidles closer to my side.

"You'd side with the people who killed your father?" Blood colors Nikolai's teeth a ruby red.

Misha shakes his head. "You were never my father. A father is someone who chooses you. Like Andrey did."

Nikolai's eyes spark with anger. "You would take his name? The name of my enemy?"

Misha glances towards Natalia and me. "I already have."

"He's our boy, Nikolai," Natalia claims proudly.

It's as though the light drains right out of him. He looks like a living corpse. But through sheer force of will, he keeps breathing.

"Just answer one thing for me," he hisses through clenched teeth. "Will you kill Slavik?"

I pull out the knife I've sheathed within my boot and squat down in front of Nikolai. "He'll be next in line behind you to get into Hell."

Nikolai nods. "Then?—"

Before he can get the words out, I slice the knife across his throat.

The moment I release him, he collapses onto the floor, ending a decade-long battle that cost me a mother, an unborn child, and a former lover.

As I straighten up, a strangled whimper reaches me from the opposite corner of the shed. Natalia clutches Grigory tighter to her chest, backing away as Misha snatches up Natalia's gun and points it at my brother.

Viktor is three-quarters of the way to death, and his hollow eyes barely even blink.

"Stand down, Misha. This is my fight." I carefully unwind the gun from the boy's fingers and walk over to Viktor. "You always were a stubborn bastard, brat ."

He tries to say something back, but it's nothing but spits and gurgles. I squat down beside him and Viktor shudders, his eyes leaking salty tears.

"I didn't give Nikolai the dignity of last words, but we still share blood. So say what you need to say."

Viktor grabs weakly at the cuff of my shirt, his limp fingers barely able to take hold of me. Every word out of his bloody mouth costs him dearly. "L-let… me… live…"

I don't expect the gut twist that those words bring forth. For one tiny millisecond, I consider it.

Then I hear my son's raspy cry.

"I can't let you live, Viktor. You've gone too far."

"Please," he croaks. "You… know me. This is not… me. He did… this…"

I shake my head. "This is always who you have been, brother. A coward and a traitor, ready to backstab the people closest to you if it meant getting on top with the least effort."

"Brother… I beg… you…"

I wrap a hand around his neck and pull him towards me until we're practically nose to nose. I press the tip of my gun directly over Viktor's heart.

"You were dead to me the moment you came after my family—Grigory, Natalia, Mila, our own mother. Now, you're just dead."

I pull the trigger.

His last breath warms my face. And then he's gone.

It doesn't feel as momentous as I hoped, taking out two enemies in the span of minutes. It's all a waste, and I'm sorry to be part of it.

But the job isn't done yet.

"We have to get out of here." Natalia lays a hand on my shoulder. "Andrey, we need to go."

Grigory's weak cry is what pulls my focus from my brother's body. I kiss my son's chubby hand and turn to his mother. "You and Misha go. But I have to stay. Slavik needs to die."

We shuffle out of the shed just as Leonty and Shura lope towards us. They're limping and bloody, but alive.

"You guys okay?" Leonty asks.

"We're all fine." Natalia looks to a shed further down the road that my men have surrounded. "What's going on?"

Shura turns to me, his eyes blazing. "We managed to corner Slavik, but we wanted to wait for your call, Andrey."

"Let me come with you," Misha requests, stepping forward with his chest puffed out.

I clasp his shoulder. "I need to do this on my own. I'm leaving you in charge. Stay with your mother and protect your brother. I'm counting on you, son."

I press a kiss to Natalia's lips and stride towards the shed.

It's time for one last conversation with my father.