Page 33 of Maxim

“Boss…” Artem’s calm voice breaks through the red mist and my fist pauses part-way through another brutal trajectory. Not that the man on the ground is aware. His face is a bloody mess of pulverized flesh and from the way he’s choking, he doesn’t have long left in this world.

“We need to clear this up,” Artem reminds me. I know. There are too many witnesses.

Sucking in a calming breath, I think for a moment.

“Call Sasha, he’ll need to wipe the cameras. I’ll let you organize the cleanup.”

Artem nods, his face impassive like always. This is just another Friday night to him. He pulls his phone out and makes the necessary calls.

I reach out to Natalya. She flinches at the sight of my bloody fist and I inwardly curse. Now she’s frightened of me.

What was I thinking?

Oh, wait. I wasn’t.

“Malyshka,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady. Her eyes flick between me and the body lying on the ground. Her lip trembles and I can hear her sharp staccato inhales and exhales, as she tries to rein in her panic. “You’re safe now. Safe with me.”

I reach out again and this time, she doesn’t pull back. Small steps but it’s progress. Since my fist is a mess, I quickly wipe it on my black jacket. The laundry service I use can deal. They get paid a bonus for such onerous tasks.

Once my hand is semi-clean, I press it against the small of her back. “We need to get out of here,” I tell her, keeping my voice low and calm. A private ambulance pulls up and Kolya jumps out, along with Pietr and Ivan. They glance around, making sure we’re not attracting a crowd.

Pietr and Ivan are both dressed in scrubs. They pull out a gurney and wheel it over. Surprisingly, the guy on the floor isn’t dead yet. He groans when my guys scoop him up none too gently and drop him on the gurney. Since he’s alive, he can answer some questions for me.

I’m curious about whether this was a targeted attack because someone has spotted Natalya’s link to me, or just a case of wrong time, wrong place. I hope it’s the latter, but as Papa always said, assumption is the mother of all fuck ups.

“Find out what he was doing and why,” I instruct. Kolya nods. The gurney is wheeled back to the ambulance and a few minutes later, it departs.

Artem stands back, monitoring the park and surrounding area while I lead Natalya back to the SUV. Her hand is cold as ice when I take it to help her inside the vehicle. I’m expecting questions, but there’s nothing. It’s like she’s shut down.

Whether it’s trauma from seeing me beat a man half to death or what happened before my arrival, I’m not certain. But I intend to find out.

I climb into the passenger seat next to her while Artem slips behind the wheel.

“Where to, boss?”

“My place.”

Chapter twenty-three

Nat

I lean against Max’s broad shoulder. He’s talking to the guy driving the car but it’s like white noise in the background. My hands are icy cold, despite the hot air blasting out of the vents. There’s a heavy feeling in my stomach that won’t go away.

Images of Max’s fist pounding into the thug’s face replay on a constant loop. In the moment, all I felt was relief.

Relief that someone had come to save me.

Relief that the guy with the wolf tattoo couldn’t hurt me anymore.

Now I’m not sure what I’m feeling.

Numb, mostly. Time has slowed down to the point where every second crawls by. I’m aware of Max’s hand stroking mine. When I look down, I see rust marks on the cuff of his white shirt. Blood.

Who is this man?

I’m beginning to understand that Max is not all he appears to be.

“How did you know where I was?”

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