Page 50 of The Devils' Darling

The guys are probably down in the den by now. It’s been hours since we got back. I spent most of it sitting on the edge of my bed and staring into space, reliving the horror of it all. I keep replaying every moment, trying to work out if I could have done something different.

I need to contact my mother and sister, too, inform them Grigoriy is dead. It’s not right that they’ll find out from someone else. But the thought of speaking to them overwhelms me. I can’t face it. I know that makes me a coward, but it all feels like too much. Will they take his death as good news—that they’ll be free from his tyranny—or will they now be unprotected? What if, with my father gone, one of his enemies decides to step in and claim his daughter and widow for themselves?

I finally force myself out of the shower, dress, and run my fingers through my wet hair. What are the guys doing? Is Mackenzie okay?

I ought to go and be with them, even if all I want to do is … what? What the fuck do I want to do? Damned if I know. Every time I close my eyes, it’s not my father I think about, but instead how I acted when the lights had gone off. I’m so fucking ashamed of myself, it sickens me.

I’m not sure I can face them, but I can’t hide forever.

Before I go, I pick up my cell phone and pull up my mother’s number.

She answers within a couple of rings. “Kirill, is everything all right?” She speaks in Russian and sounds anxious, as though she’s already gotten word that something has gone down.

“Mama, I have news for you.” I speak in my mother tongue, too. “I need you to tell only my sister, okay? Otherwise, you must keep it to yourself. You can’t let anyone know you found out this information from me.”

“What is it, Kirill. What’s happened?”

“It’s Grigoriy,” I say, unable to call him my father after what he’s done. “He’s dead.”

She draws a sharp breath down the line. “You know this to be true?”

“It is true. I know for certain.”

She lets out a sob, and I picture her standing with her hand over her mouth, trying to hide her emotions from anyone who might hear.

“Then we are free of him,” she says. “Finally, we are free.”

“I love you, Mama. Don’t speak of this to anyone but my sister. And warn her to stay quiet. I can’t have this coming back on me.”

“I understand, son. You can trust me.”

I do, too.

I end the call and blow out a lungful of air. I hope they’ll be safe. I don’t know what kind of repercussions will fall on them now that Grigoriy is gone.

Leaving my room, I find my way to the den as quickly as I can. I have a hoodie on, and I pull the hood up and tie it close so no one will recognize me. I keep my head down as I navigate the halls. I don’t want to talk to anyone.

When I hit the den, I push open the door and take in the scene.

Mackenzie is lying between Tino’s legs on the sofa. Her back is against his chest, and her legs are stretched out over Dom. There’s a film on, and Tino is caressing her hair.

It looks like such a pretty picture. If I interrupt, will I turn it into something bad?

“There you are,” she says.

She pushes up as if to come and greet me, but I hold my hand out.

“Don’t get up.”

She falters. “Okay. Are you all right?”

“Yes, you?”

She nods, but our gazes catch, and they tell a different story. One of horrors seen and fucked up shit being done to us.

“I showered,” she says softly. “It still doesn’t feel as if I got them off me.”

I nod but don’t reply.

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