Page 19 of Cruel Honor

“Jeez, man. Where are your manners?”

He slowly pulls his hand away from his groin. “Oh, sorry.”

“God, Dima. You’re so gross. But none of that matters. Just tell me where Evie is, and I’ll let you live.”

“Really? You won’t try and stop me?”

I shrug. “I don’t like to murder people if I don’t have to.” I mean, that’s a blatant lie. I love causing chaos. But Dima doesn’t need to know that. I just need to get Evie away to safety, and then I can kill Dima. He’s a little weasel fucker who needs to die.

“But, Dimitri, she’s mine. I found her. I took her. I want to kill her.”

A flare of anger soars through me. For some reason, I don’t want Evie to get hurt. And it’s not just because she’s Katya’s friend. “Well, tough shit, Dima. Now, move out of the way.” I shove him so hard, he flops right to the ground.

My footsteps are loud on the old floor as I head for the basement. I know that’s where Dima does his killings. I mean, where else are you going to kill a person in your own home, you know?

When I reach the bottom of the stairs and enter into the basement, I see Evie strapped to a table, her dress cut open.

“Mmm!” she tries to say, struggling against the straps holding her down.

“Shit,” I mutter. This isn’t good. I don’t normally care if people I don’t care about live or die.

But the sight of Evie on that table fills me with rage.

I storm over to her and undo the straps. She sits up, rips the rag out of her mouth, and tries to put her dress back together, but it’s pointless. I know right now is a terrible time to tell her she’s got a great body. See? I can exhibit self-control.

“Dimitri?” she asks. The sound of her voice, so weak and scared, fills me with a protectiveness I’ve never felt before.

“I’m gonna take you home. Can you walk?”

She shakes her head. “He hit me. I’m dizzy.”

“I’ve got you.” I scoop her into my arms. Suddenly, I’m filled with the sensation of just howrightshe feels within my arms.

I carry her upstairs to where Dima is pacing around the living room. Evie screams at the sight of him. “He’s not going to hurt you. Come on. Let me get you into my car.”

After placing Evie inside my car, I head back into the house to shoot Dima in the fucking head.

But the little fucker isn’t there anymore. I check the basement. Gone. After doing a sweep of the house, I don’t find him.

I hurry back to Evie and get inside. “What’s your address?”

“Um … I’m sorry. Dimitri, what happened? Are you going to call the police?”

“No.” I start driving.

“No? Why not? He’s a murderer. He’s the killer the police have been looking for!”

“I know.”

She waits and, when I don’t say more, says, “And?”

“And he wasn’t there when I went back in to kill him.”

She gasps. “To … kill him?” I notice her hands move straight to the door handle. “Let me out.”

I stop the car, which only makes her scramble at the door handle more. “Evie, I’m not going to kill you. You’re Katya’s friend. Besides, I don’t murder innocent women. It’s not my style.”

“Then what is your style?” she asks slowly.

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