Page 19 of For a Price

Crap.

Who are these assholes!?

Some of the Bear’s friends?!

The subway train breezes into the station, pulling to a sharp halt in front of me and the others waiting.

Just in time.

The doors roll open and I push and nudge my way on.

The two men rush forward as if to chase after me, but they’re a second too late. The subway doors snap shut before they can bully their way onto the train. I wave at them through the glass window as the train takes off at full speed.

I sigh in relief and then decide to send off a text to JC.

Things between us have been tense since our botched kidnapping job (and that’s putting it lightly).

You heard from Finch?

No why would I?

This whole botched job… I need more info

Such as??

Just saw 2 strange guys on the subway. They were russian too

Kat… u kidding? Hurry and gtfo

I frown at my phone, my fingers hovering above the digital keyboard. I type up a text asking who they are. JC suddenly stops responding.

“Typical,” I mutter under my breath.

Then another idea strikes me. I pull up my internet browser and type in a word that’s stuck with me since that night.

Sovietnik.

Ice-cold horror fills me up ’til I’m so out of it, the subway train’s stopped and I haven’t noticed. People rush off while more people rush on. I realize at the last second I have to get off. Squeezing through the passengers coming aboard, I stumble onto the platform with my phone in the palm of my hand.

“Hierarchy of the Russian Mafia,” I mutter, reading aloud. “Advisor and confidant to the pakhan. What in the fuck, JC?! We were pulling a job on the Russian mob?!”

The next time I look up from my phone, I’ve ridden the escalator back onto the street outside. My ears fill with the big city sounds as I stand on the street and try to swallow down my shock.

So does that mean the Bear… Roman Volkova’s a part of the…

I’ve barely moved from the subway station when an unmarked black vehicle pulls to a stop at the curb. The tintedwindows roll down to reveal a man with a jagged scar on his cheek and misshapen yellow teeth.

“Devochka, where are you headed? Come with us! The sovietnik wants to say hello.”

I back away. “What… how did you… stay away from me!”

I break out into a run, unsure of where I’m even going. The man laughs, the sound gruff and unsettling.

I cut down a side alley, racing toward the other end, throwing the occasional glance over my shoulder. The men have remained parked against the curb with their mouths open in crude laughter. I keep running anyway, pushing myself even faster.

But as I toss another glance over my shoulder to make sure I’m not being followed, I don’t look up ahead in time. My body collides with what must be an immovable brick wall. My feet slip on the wet gravel beneath my sneakers and I’m airborne for the quick second it takes me to crash down.

A groan warbles out of me as I land flat on my back. Air vanishes from my lungs. My vision’s spotty as I blink and look up at the wall that’s taken me down.

---