Midnight Purgatory (Bugrov Bratva #1)(87)

I shove him over with my foot and he collapses onto his back, revealing the dark stain on his pants. “P-p-please… don’t kill me…”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Because…” His eyes dart from side to side, hoping for a way out that I’ll never let him find.

“Let me be very clear: you’re a dead man. But at least you can have some autonomy over your death. Do you want it to be quick and painless? Or do you want it to hurt?”

His jaw starts quivering. “Don’t kill me. Please.”

“I killed every other man in this building. What makes you so special?”

“I-I have information.”

I nod. “Yeah, so said all the other men I spoke to. They fed me lies and—” Another strangled scream pierces the air. Perfect timing. “—now, they’re paying for it. Tell me: what’s your name?”

Beads of sweat slide down the side of his face. “Akim.”

“Akim. You seem like a smart man, Akim. Like tends to recognize like, wouldn’t you say?” He nods frantically. “Then you’ll believe me when I tell you that I can spot a lie a mile away.”

He struggles upright, as much as he can with a nasty, sucking wound in his ribs. “I won’t lie to you! I swear it.”

The fire’s licking my back now, oppressive enough to match the inferno inside me. “Get on your feet and keep walking until I tell you to stop.”

He scrambles upright and does exactly what he’s told until we exit the building. I walk him over to my vehicle and order him to stop. “Turn.” He turns slowly. His gaze is fixed on me. “Where is Sobakin?”

“I don’t know.”

I sigh. “Disappointing.”

“You wanted the truth,” he blurts, speaking fast. “That is the truth! I don’t know where he is because no one knows where he is. He knows you’re coming for him and he’s retreated into his personal safehouse. Only his inner circle knows where it’s located.”

“And you are not part of that.”

“No. He likes to keep his most trusted vors close.”

I smirk. Another strangled scream breaks through the thicket of smoke and fire. “He knows I’m coming for him?”

“He’s known for years now.”

That gives me pause. “Years?”

Akim nods. “He said that he always knew it would come to this, no matter how careful he was.”

I take a step forward and Akim flinches. His quivering legs look like they’re seconds away from caving. But his jaw clenches and he stays upright.

“Tell me what he meant.”

Akim swallows. “This was before my time. I joined the Sobakin Bratva only a few years ago.”

“Poor choice.”

A sob escapes through his teeth. “I did it for my family. To keep them afloat—”

“If you think telling me about your sweet, beautiful wife and your sweet, rosy-cheeked children is going to sway me, you don’t know me very well.”

He blinks and moisture rolls down his cheeks. It could be sweat; it could be tears. It’s hard to tell at this point. It doesn’t really make any difference.

Akim clears his throat and tries again. “He’s boasted that… that he’s the one responsible for your parents’ deaths.”

My hand tightens on the gun. All this time, I suppose I’d always known. But hearing it out loud… I feel vindicated in my rage. I also feel as though someone’s breathed new fire into me.

“What else?”

“I don’t know the details. I only know this much because I overheard it. Boris always brags that he only lost one man, but the Bugrov Bratva lost the head of the snake.”

I scowl. “Except that Sobakin didn’t and still doesn’t understand something about the Bugrov Bratva: you cut off one head and another grows in its place.”

I raise the gun a little higher. Akim closes his eyes and breathes out softly.

It’s that one act that changes my mind—the fact that he doesn’t beg for his life. He prepares himself for death like a man, not a coward.

Time ticks past. In the background, I hear the wheeze and cacophony of one of the warehouse rafters giving way to the heat.

One eye peeks open. Akim realizes that my hand has dropped and the gun is no longer pointed at him. “Y-you’re not gonna shoot me?”

“No.”

“Why not?” he asks suspiciously.

“Because you gave me what I wanted.”

He looks even more confused now. “I barely gave you anything.”

“You confirmed something I’ve been grappling with for years. Thanks to you, I have clarity and purpose. Well—renewed purpose anyway.” I take a step towards him and he flinches back instantly. “But remember one thing, Akim: if you ever cross me again in any capacity, I will pull the trigger.”

He still looks skeptical. “Sobakin would never let me live.”

“I’m not him.”

He bows his head. “I… I can’t thank you enough.”

“Then don’t thank me at all. Leave before I change my mind.”

He stumbles away, refusing to turn his back on me. Only when he’s several feet away from me does he turn and start running as fast as he can.