Page 39 of Darkest Deeds

Niko

I leftWest Palm Beach with every intention of driving back to Okeechobee. I knew I needed to get back to Ava. It’d been four hours since I zip tied her arms and legs while she lay sprawled out asleep on the floor.

Like I said, I meant to head north, but instead drove south for another hour and fifteen minutes. Now, as I stand watching the glowing neon crimson sign, I wonder what the hell I was thinking.

I can’t walk into Seven. I know Sergei will be in his office, but it’s too risky. Just being here is risky, but there’s still a sadistic part of me that needs to confront him. Needs to prove he didn’t break me. That I’m stronger. That I’ve defied him again. That eight years have done nothing but fuel my bloodlust. That I’m about to tear down that house of horrors he lives in and display all his dirty little secrets.

But then my mind flashes back to Ava. If I go in there and confront Sergei, and something happens to me, no one will ever find her. Garrison Franko doesn’t exist, and as far as any map is concerned, neither does the property. Eventually, dehydration or starvation will claim her, and she’ll die right there on my living room floor.

Even killers have limits.

So I call him instead.

“Seven, this is Sasha speaking.”

“I want to speak to Sergei.”

She pauses, and I smile. It’s a pause of desperation. I shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I do, but I kill people for a living. I don’t get off on hugs and rainbows for fuck’s sake.

“I am sorry, he—he is not here,” she stutters. “I can get the manager for you.”

“If I wanted to talk to Dmitry, I would’ve asked for him. I know Sergei’s there, now put him on the phone.”

“Sir, the owner does not take calls.”

I see she’s not going to be as easy as I thought. I didn’t want to go this far, but she’s being a pain in the ass and my patience is wearing thin. “Sasha, that’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“Not as pretty as Viktoria. That’s your daughter’s name, right? Three years old, if I’m not mistaken. She’s with your mother right now in North Miami.”

There’s a muffled gasp on the other end of the line. “How did you…?”

“Put Sergei on the phone,” I demand. “Tell him it’s Nikolai. Don’t worry, he’ll take it.”

As expected, Sasha doesn’t say another word. The line clicks over, funneling in the irritating music being played in the club. I don’t know the song because I have fucking taste, but it’s giving me a headache. If Sergei doesn’t pick up soon, I might shoot my way—

“Nikolai, it is not nice to frighten my employees.”

I close my eyes, the sound of his thick Russian accent filling my ears. It’s as clipped and nasally as it was eight years ago, the sharp Rs still rolling hard off his tongue. Given half a chance, I’d be happy to cut it off for him.

“I’m not a nice guy, Chernov.”

A deep chuckle fills the line. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

He wants to play dumb. Well, whatever helps him sleep at night.

“Operation Delilah is complete.”

“I do not know of this Delilah.”

I swear the man shoots his brain cells out every time his dick blows a load.

“Everything is taken care of, Sergei,” I say, going a different route than, I killed your daughter like you paid me to, you dumbfuck. “You can sleep peacefully knowing that informational systems problem you were having has been taken care of.”

Clear enough for you, asshole?

“Oh, yes, very good. Be sure to keep this between us. I would not want my usual technician to know I contracted work behind his back.”

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