His brow furrows. “What the fuck are you talking about? Why would I send someone to kill my wife?”
“So you could have a second wife.”
He laughs, the sound vaguely amused at best. “Sasha…Sasha…your problem is that you always take things too seriously and at face value.” He pulls his hand from his pocket and I tense, thinking it’s a weapon, but he lifts it up so I can see.
Something glints in the air and my lips part when I make out the ring I put on his finger during our sham wedding.
Why does he have it?
No. This is another tactic of his to destabilize me. Drive me more insane than I thought would be possible.
“You are my wife.”
I snort, feeling my expression close off until it’s too tight to even speak, but I force the words out. “If you think I’ll fall for that, then you’ve really overestimated your abilities, Kirill. What a shame. Seems your new position and life have taken away your critical thinking.”
“Something did, all right, but it’s neither my new position nor my new life.” He pauses and glares at me as if he is the wronged one. “It was your fake death. You got me there, but it won’t happen again.”
“Nothing will happen again. As I said, I’m going to kill you today. For everything you’ve done not only to me, but also to my family, I’m taking revenge.”
“Are you now?” His tone sounds light, amused, as he takes a step forward.
I lift my rifle, my hands steady. “Not another move or I’ll shoot you.”
“Do it.” He taps his chest. “Right here so it’s fatal this time.”
My chin trembles. What the hell is he doing?
Is this another tactic? Will I be ambushed by Viktor or someone else who’s hiding in the bushes?
Will he try to disarm me or shoot me with some gun he’s hidden?
I tighten my hold on the rifle, finger hovering over the trigger. “I’m not falling for that.”
“Falling for what? You said you’ll shoot me and I’m telling you to do it.”
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”
“I didn’t realize there was an open submission box for excuses.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Kirill!” I inhale and exhale heavily in a hopeless attempt to bring my breathing back to normal. “What do you have to say for your actions? I won’t believe you, but let’s hear it. Let’s hear the reasons you thought it was fun to play with me all this time.”
“You already said you won’t believe anything I say, so why should I bother? Since you obviously came here with a sole mission in mind—killing me. Why don’t you get on with it?”
“You asshole…” My voice breaks before I recover it. “You won’t even try?”
“You’re my only wife. I only wanted to reach an agreement with your family due to that fact. I went behind your back because I knew you’d never allow such a meeting to happen. I didn’t try to kill you and never will. I’ve been going fucking crazy for the past couple of months until the moment Maksim said you were alive. I only half believed him until I saw you just now. There. I tried. Do you believe me?”
He says the words with an ease that’s hard to take seriously, let alone believe.
He’s telling me what I want to hear just so he can play with me again.
Fool me again.
This time, kill me for real.
He takes another step forward.
“I told you to stop!” I yell, my voice raw, as if I’ve been screaming for days.
“I won’t. Not now, not ever. You’re my wife and you belong by my side.”
“Fuck you, Kirill. If you think I’ll ever go back to you, or that I feel the slightest affection toward you, then you must’ve really lost your touch.”
“If you don’t feel any affection toward me, then shoot me. That’s the only way to stop me from having you.” He takes another step, slowly, intentionally, as if he doesn’t see the rifle in my hand or my shaking finger on the trigger.
“Stop!”
“Make me stop.”
“You were behind my family’s death. I will kill you!”
“The real person behind your family’s death could be a traitor, but you’re not ready for that conversation.”
“If you take one more step, I’m going to kill you. I swear I will.”
“Why? Because you’re scared that if we touch, you’ll remember that you only ever belonged to me? Not your family, not your duty, fucking me.”
“This is my last warning…” Sweat dampens my temples and upper lip. I’m tasting bile on my tongue as my finger trembles.
“You’re giving an awful lot of chances to someone you claim you hold no affection toward.” He reaches a hand to my face, ignoring the rifle that’s now pressing against his chest.
Where his heart is.
The heart I never had a place in, no matter how much I tried.
The heart that never accepted me, even though mine is full of him.
Before that stupid organ softens, before he can touch me, I lift the rifle higher and pull the trigger.
My chest falls as he flies sideways and blood explodes on his right arm from the gash in his skin. It trickles down to his limp hand—the hand he tried to touch me with.
My heart that I thought was long dead bleeds at the view.
Fuck.
Shit.
Goddammit!
How am I supposed to kill him if I feel like I just shot myself by merely hurting his arm?
Kirill groans, his face contorting, but he doesn’t attempt to stop the bleeding. I made sure not to hit a major artery, but I must’ve shot a minor one because blood is still flowing from the wound.
Instead of getting help or even shooting me back, he gains back the few steps he lost and reaches his left hand toward my face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I point my rifle at his left shoulder keeping him an arm’s length away.
“You.”
“Stay away from me!”
“I can’t. You’re my wife. Till death do us part, remember?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Probably.”
“Kirill, stay away, I mean it.”
“I won’t. I mean it. You can shoot my other arm and I will walk to you. If you take my legs, I’ll crawl to you.”
“Are you crazy?”
“When it comes to you? Possibly.” He pushes against the rifle with impossible strength, considering his right arm is fucked. “So unless you kill me, you won’t be able to stop me.”
I see it then.
In the depths of his arctic eyes that could freeze someone to death.
He means every word. If I don’t put a bullet in his heart or head, he’ll chase me relentlessly.
Until either I kill him or he possesses me.
And that’s terrifying because at this point, I don’t know which one is more likely to come true.
I’d hate myself in both cases.
I lift my rifle and shoot the sky, and just like that, a long, raw scream rips out of my lungs.
Until I nearly lose my voice.
Until my heart metaphorically spills out on the ground.
When I look back at Kirill, he’s watching me with keen interest. His right arm is limp, dripping blood on the ground, but his complete, unwavering attention never leaves me.