Page 19 of Sinful Scars

I wish I could let her out, and we could just enjoy each other’s company, sitting on the couch in front of the fire, talking long into the night. But the thought of her seeing me has my chest tightening to the point of pain.

Pyotr is true to his reputation and gets back to me before I’ve had a chance to finish my second cup of coffee.

I take the half-empty mug back outside and sit on the front steps as I answer his call.

“The guys you killed belong to a crime gang that have known connections to the mafia. Turns out they were planning on using Elle as ransom to gain assets from the Conti family.”

“I thought as much.” I run a hand over my face. “Don’t suppose you got me a location?”

“I do, but I’m hesitant to give it to you.”

“Pyotr.” I ball my free hand into a fist.

“Fine, I’ll send you the location, but I need to warn you. There’s at least six members currently there, maybe more, and I’m assuming you’re planning on storming the place? I know you don’t like taking advice, but you’re a fucking dead man if you go in there alone.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I can go with you?—”

“I need you to come to the cabin and keep an eye on Elle.”

Pyotr scoffs. “You want me to babysit your hostage?”

“She’snota hostage.”

“Try telling her that.”

“I appreciate you wanting to help, but there’s nobody else I trust enough to look after Elle while I’m gone.”

“‘I’m flattered. Let me at least call some of my guys to help. Most of them owe me a favor or two, so they’d do it no questions asked, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No need. I can handle this on my own.”

I always do.

Within an hour,Pyotr arrives just as I finish packing up my car with two shotguns and a handful of knives that I keep stashed away beneath the floorboards in the kitchen. His hair is shorter since the last time I saw him, and he’s clean shaven, which is unusual. Normally, he sports a more rugged appearance, similar to my own, which makes me wonder about the recent job he’s just finished.

He eyes the trunk full of weapons but says nothing as I finish double checking my supplies. If anything, there’s a hint of disappointment on his face as I climb into the driver's seat of the car, offering him a curt nod before backing away from the cabin, and trying not to focus on the fact that I’m leaving Elle.

It takes me over an hour to reach the location that Pyotr gave me for the gang's hideout. I use the time to clear my mind.

I can’t afford to get emotional about this, not if I want to make it back to Elle before the sun comes up.

By the time I park up and gather my weapons from the trunk, my body almost feels numb, as if I’m looking at myself from above.

My movements aren’t my own as I stalk across the street and enter the derelict-looking laundry, that to any regular passerby would seem long forgotten.

But I know better.

It doesn’t take much force to get the door open, and I creep across the filthy floor, adjusting the shotgun in my hand. I barely notice the weight of it as I approach the door behind the counter that will lead to the men who organized the attack on Elle.

One wrong move, and I’ll likely end up with a bullet between my eyes, and that simply isn’t an option.

This is going to be quick, and it’s going to be dirty.

My preferred way to fight.

I take one last deep breath, letting my mind still as I focus on the weight of the gun in my hands, and send my foot through the door.

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