Page 162 of Bratva Butcher

Chapter Forty-One

Autumn DeValos

“Excuse me! Pissed off,frustrated woman coming through!” I ran through the airport, my carry-on suitcase trailing behind me and handbag continuously slipping from my shoulder as I sprinted towards my gate.

I was late. I was so fucking late. There was every chance I was going to miss my flight, and if I did, I was going to kill someone.

Probably that stupid taxi driver who made me late in the first place.

Right. Because being late had nothing to do with the fact that you were having second thoughts about leaving.

I ignored that pesky inner voice of mine, staying focused on my mission: getting to my gate so I could board the plane and get the fuck out of the US.

After I left Dimitri’s over a week ago, I entered into a deep, dark depression. It was hard coming to terms with the fact that the first and only man I’d ever loved not only didn’t love me back, but also regretted our whole time together. It hurt to know that all those moments we shared—all the long talks, heated touches and glances filled with longing—meant nothing to him.Lessthan nothing. That they’d all been a mistake for him.

I’d been beaten, stabbed, raped and tortured, but that?

Thatnearly killed me.

Then, while I was stuck in that deep pool of sadness and defeat, I’d had this moment of clarity.

If Dimitri didn’t want to be with me, that washisfucking loss.

I was goddamn amazing. I was smart, funny, sexy and could hit a bullseye from a hundred yards away. I was a walking motherfucking wet dream, and I wasn’t going to let Dimitri-Dickhead-Volkov make me think differently. Bring me down.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

Turns out, heartbreak wasn’t something you could get over by just sheer will power, copious amounts of alcohol and a lot of cursing. No matter how many times I told myself I was better off without that douche-nozzle, my heart and soul still bled every time I thought of him.

So, I decided to turn that pain into anger.

It worked…somewhat. I liked being angry. Instead of crying all day, I just smashed shit and pretended I was doing it over Dimitri’s head. It was very therapeutic.

“Excuse me! Watch out! Move, move, move!” The airport was packed with bodies, people standing in lines and waiting for their flights. Apparently, people had stopped understanding the phrase, “Get the fuck out of my way” because no one bloody moved, and I was forced to duck and weave in between the crowd.

“Gate twenty-four, gate twenty-four, gate twenty-four,” I mumbled under my breath as I frantically ran. Technically, my flight details said I needed to be at my gate thirty-seven minutes ago for boarding. I was hoping that was more of a suggestion than an actual rule.

When I finally found it, I breathed out a huge sigh of relief. There was a blonde woman with brown eyes and red lipstick waiting behind the desk. That to me was a good sign. I rushed up to the counter so fast that I almost flung across it.

“Hello, hello, flight DA1794 to Australia. Am I too late? Am I too late?” I rushed out, barely taking a breath.

The woman’s name tag read “Tasha”. She smiled, but there was a hint of something else lying beneath the surface. Unease, maybe? “No, you’re fine. Do you have your passport and boarding pass?”

“Really?” I exhaled heavily. “Yes, I have them right here.” After a quick search of my handbag, I found them and handed them over.

She quickly checked the documents before handing them back to me. “Okay, you’re all good to go. Have a nice flight.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much.” The relief filling my bones elated me. I’d truly feared it was too late, and I was going to miss the flight.

Unfortunately, all that elation made me miss certain details that showed something wasn’t quite right with the whole thing. The first one being that I was nearly forty minutes late and still able to board. The second one being the unease vibrating from Tasha. Then there was the third… The fact that when I actually stepped onto the plane, there were no other passengers on board.

My stupid brain had been too preoccupied with just getting on the plane so I could get as far away from Dimitri as possible,especially after what happened the day before, that all of that just flew over the top of my fucking head.

The bastardreallytried to call me to talk. As if I would give him the time of day after what he said to me. I’ll admit, it had been very satisfying to hang up on him, and I got to do it not once, not twice, but three times!

I could just picture how frustrated that made him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he ended up smashing the phone. Dimitri didn’t like to be ignored. It made the whole thing even sweeter.

But knowing he was trying to reach out made my stupid heart scream to take a chance. See what he had to say.

---