Page 107 of Wicked Arrangement

“Debt is red when paid, and you owe a life debt. Your debts will be repaid sooner or later,” I reply, throwing my own take on a Russian saying back at him.

Chapter 54

Kimberly

Since his uncle arrived a couple of hours ago while Yaroslav was still out, we’ve been holed up in David’s room, trying to distract ourselves and stay out of the way. The last thing I want is to speak to Innokentiy without Yaroslav there, I can tell David feels the same way. We spotted Yaroslav arriving back a short while ago. Both of us are preparing ourselves to be summoned.

All day I’ve felt this overwhelming sense of dread, that something bad is going to happen. I can tell David feels it too. This is why, when we hear a gunshot coming from the direction of Yaroslav’s office, both of us spring into action. Without thinking, I race toward the sound, fearful for Yaroslav’s life.

“Kimmy, wait!” David calls, but I ignore him.

When I reach Yaroslav’s office, I see him unconscious on the floor and my heart drops, fearing the worst. He’s alone. Whoever did this has gone and left him for dead. I drop to my knees beside him, examining him to look for the bullet wound.

“Yaroslav! Wake up!” I scream.

“Fuck!” David says, coming in and kneeling down beside me.

Yaroslav stirs, coming to, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Seeing us seems to give him the strength to speak, to force himself to wake up more.

“Where have you been shot?” I ask, still searching, feeling more confused as I realize there’s no blood.

“Not shot. Drugged. Innokentiy,” Yaroslav answers, his speech slurred.

“Oh my god, David, we have to take him to a hospital, or I don’t know, make him throw up?” I say panicked, trying to lift his heavy frame up.

“No. No time,” he says shaking his head. With great effort, he reaches into his pocket and presses two small items into my hand. “All the information you need is on these. You need to run.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” I insist, still struggling.

“David. Take her, you have to do this for me, you have to promise to keep them safe. Please,” he says, gripping his brother’s hands.

I can see tears in David’s eyes as he nods bravely, “I promise.”

“No, we can’t leave him!” I insist.

“Kimmy, you have to. Think of the baby. We don’t know who else is in on this, we need to go, to keep you both safe,” David says softly pulling on my hand, but I still resist, starting to sob.

“I can’t!” I say, clinging to Yaroslav.

“Please,” Yaroslav says, forcing his eyes open to look into mine. “Please go. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I reply through my tears, finally allowing David to drag me away.

As much as I love Yaroslav and want to stay and fight, to protect him and spend his final moments by his side, I know I have to put our child first. It’s not just my life I’d put at risk if I stayed.

David pulls me toward a secret door behind the bookcase and I can hear the sounds of footsteps approaching as we close it just in time. The passageway leads us through a maze of dark hidden tunnels underneath the house, not dissimilar to the ones I found all those weeks ago in Yaroslav’s Atlanta home. I pray to god this one isn’t a dead end that will leave us trapped.

Thankfully, David seems to know the way, steering me in the right direction when we come to different junctions. As we run, I can hear the sounds of gunfire and shouting, clearly, Innokentiy came with backup. Yaroslav’s loyal men are putting up a fight. I hope for all our sakes they win, but without Yaroslav to lead them I don’t know how long their loyalty will last. If Innokentiy tells them Yaroslav is dead, how many of them would choose to follow David, a mentally ill man they all underestimate, or an unborn child?

It feels like we’ve been running forever, I’m still weak and I have to stop to catch my breath. It sounds as though the fight is happening right above our heads. It’s then that I notice the small grate above us, presumably for airflow for using the tunnel but on the outside, it must look like a harmless storm drain.

“David, boost me up, I want to see if I can see anything out of that,” I say, pointing at the grate.

David hesitates, “Kimmy, we really should keep going, they could be following us any minute, I promised to keep you safe.”

“Please, it will only take a moment,” I plead, “We’re wasting time standing here arguing,” I reason.

He sighs but relents, holding out his hands for me to clamber up and peer out of the small gap. In the gloom of the night, I can make out that we’re underneath the drive outside the house, presumably under one of the flowerbeds. I can just about make out the front entrance of the house where a fight is going on between four men. I’ve no idea who is on whose side, but it appears as though they’re out of ammo as the fight has turned physical, the men grappling and throwing punches.

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