Hot and acidic, bile stings the back of my throat. I drag in several breaths, but feel like my lungs are full of water. I think I’m drowning.
When Viktor’s smile sours, I find the will to move and throw myself into the nearest chair.
“Good. Now. Tell me where the money is.”
Sweating and trembling, I whisper, “The money?”
He exhales a short, disappointed breath through his nostrils. “I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for games. So I’ll ask you again, you’ll tell me the truth, and we’ll get on with it.” His voice hardens. “Where’s the money?”
My stomach churns. A trickle of cold sweat drips down between my shoulder blades. “Do you mean the trust account?”
Looking interested, he cocks his head. “He set up a trust?”
Licking my lips, I nod. In my peripheral vision, I see Mojo standing stock-still in the living room, ears flattened, staring at Viktor with all the fur on his back bristling.
“I suppose that makes sense. Fucking accountants. Which bank?”
Accountants? “M-moraBanc. In Andorra.”
“Andorra? Interesting choice. He always used Armenian banks when he worked for Max. They give ten percent interest on their accounts. Good way to grow your money. Give me the account number.”
When he worked for Max? Did Kage go freelance?
My panic level is so high, I almost can’t hear the words coming out of my mouth over my internal screaming. “I don’t know it. I-I haven’t taken any of the money out.”
He stares at me for a beat, smile fading, blue eyes glittering like icicles in the sun. “Don’t take me for an idiot. You couldn’t afford that necklace on a teacher’s salary.”
I reach up and touch the stones around my throat. I whisper, “It was a Valentine’s Day gift.”
Eyes narrowing, Viktor studies my face. “This year?”
“Yes.”
He takes a step closer to me, voice rising. “You’re still in contact with him? Where is he? Where has he been living?”
Something’s going on that I don’t understand. A piece of the puzzle is missing. It’s almost like he’s talking about someone other than Kage.
But I can’t concentrate on that right now, because I’m trying to figure out a way to avoid getting shot in the face.
“Yes, we’re in contact. He told me he lives in Manhattan.”
Viktor chuffs out a small, astonished laugh, shaking his head. He murmurs, “All this time, right under our noses.”
Then he looks me up and down, studying me with new interest. “You’ve been a very busy girl. Where do you find the time, little schoolteacher?”
When I only shake my head in confusion, he makes a dismissive gesture with his free hand.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, I suppose. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a slut, but you never can tell. Sometimes the ones who look the most innocent are the biggest whores of all.”
“Did you just call me a slut and a whore?”
Viktor looks mildly surprised by my tone. I’m surprised by my tone. It was loud, angry, and even a little bit dangerous.
In a soft voice, his smile returning, he says, “What would you call a woman who fucks two men at the same time?”
Behind Viktor, Mojo creeps silently closer, his head lowered, his teeth bared.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do they know about each other?” He laughs. “I hope not. I’ll tell him before I kill him. I can’t wait to see the expression on his face.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
When I shout that at Viktor, Mojo lets out a bloodcurdling growl.
Viktor turns his head toward the sound. I take the opportunity to leap up from the table.
As soon as I move, Mojo lunges.
Catching sight of a hundred-pound ball of fur flying at him, Viktor fires a shot in Mojo’s direction. The sound is deafening. I scream, purely on instinct, but don’t look back as I tear through the house toward the front door.
When I’m five feet from it, a bullet whizzes past my head and embeds itself in the drywall with a spray of plaster. I duck and keep running, but another bullet goes straight through the door. I dive to the floor, hearing Viktor roaring in pain, and roll, slamming into the corner between the door and the wall.
Viktor is struggling to get Mojo to release his arm. Mojo’s got him by the wrist of the hand that’s gripping the gun, which is probably why his shots went wide and didn’t hit me. The dog is growling furiously and yanking his head back and forth hard, backing up to keep Viktor off balance.
But somehow, Viktor gets free.
He doesn’t bother wasting another shot at the dog. He simply raises his arm and strides toward me, pointing his gun at my face.
I raise my hands and scream, “Stop!”
Then there’s a thundering explosion of hot air and white light, and Viktor’s head explodes like a ripe tomato.
Blood and brain matter spray the wall and ceiling.
What’s left of him topples face first to the floor, where he lies, unmoving. Blood squirts from the severed artery in his neck.
I sit stunned, not understanding what happened. I stare in total disbelief at the dead man on my living room floor, until I raise my gaze and see Kage standing across the room, holding my father’s shotgun.
I guess he loaded it.
Happy birthday to me.
36
Nat
Kage drops the shotgun and flies across the room, falling to his knees next to me and cupping my face in his hands.
“Baby. Baby, talk to me. Are you hurt? Natalie, look at me. Look at me.”
Dazed, I rip my gaze from the headless remains of Viktor and focus on Kage.
I whisper brokenly, “Maxim…the money…my parents…you k-killed him…”
He gathers me into his arms and holds me tight. He kisses my head. Into my ear, he says, “You’re okay. Everything is okay. I’m here. Stand up.”
He tries to help me up, but my legs are useless. I sag against him, numb. He picks me up and carries me to the sofa, setting me down gently and smoothing my hair back from my face.
Standing over me, he says, “I need to take care of the body. Stay right here. Understand?”
I blink slowly, nodding, not understanding anything at all.
He kisses my forehead. Then he straightens, goes over to Viktor, rolls him up in the living room rug, hoists him over his shoulder, and carries him out the back door.
Watching them go, Mojo whines from his hiding place under the coffee table.
I don’t know how long it is before Kage returns. It seems like only a few minutes, but it could be hours. Days. Weeks. When he comes back in, he kneels on the floor in front of me. He takes my hands in his.
I try not to think about how much blood must be on them and focus on his face instead.
“Tell me what happened.”
I swallow, closing my eyes to banish the image that keeps playing on rewind of Viktor’s head exploding.
In a dull voice that sounds far away to my own ears, I say, “I got a phone call from Maxim. He said you’d betrayed him. Disobeyed him. He mentioned my parents. He said we all had to pay for how I turned you against him. Then Viktor was here. He asked where the money was. I told him about the trust you set up for me.