Page 80 of Craving Dahlia

I can’t.

I’ve got enough ammo to take out his men, if there aren’t too many more inside. The problem comes with how quickly I can do it. I have the element of surprise, but that won’t do me much good if one of them lands their target, and I’m as good as dead.

Although I’d be better off dying quickly, if that’s the case. The last thing in the world I want is for Gregoriy to get his hands on me again.

That’s not going to happen.My jaw tightens, and I hesitate for the smallest moment.There’s still time to go back to Dimitri.

No.He’s here, and if I leave, I might lose him. He might move locations, he might slip away, and I might lose my chance for revenge.

My blood beats hard through my veins, my heartbeat palpable in my throat, and I know I’m not turning back now. He dies or I will—but someone isn’t surviving the night.

Taking a slow breath, I slide the guns free of their holsters. I’m going to need both if I’m going to get through the seven men, and I’ll have seconds, if that, to reload before more come out.

I wait for another heartbeat, calculate where they’re all standing, and burst out into the hallway.

The floor of the hotel erupts in gunfire. I’ll have a matter of minutes to clear through them and finish Gregoriy before security arrives, before cops are called, before I’ll need to get the fuck out without getting caught. Those thoughts all race through my head as I open fire, dropping three of the men before they even realize what’s happening.

And then they start to fire on me.

I dodge, dropping to a knee, rolling to one side as I keep shooting. A fourth, a fifth goes down, and there’s only two of them left. I hear footsteps and shouting from inside the hotel suite, and I feel the hot slice of a bullet grazing my thigh before I fire again, and the last two men drop.

I fling myself against the wall, moving towards the door just as it opens. Three guards burst out, one of them firing dangerously close to my head as I kill two more of them. The third fires again, and I hear the sharpwhizzof a bullet next to me as I aim at his head and pull the trigger.

More are coming. I reload, moving with the memory of someone who has done this for most of his life, but they keep coming, spilling out of the hotel room. I drop three more men, zig-zagging and crossing to the other side of the hall, trying tokeep them guessing as to where to shoot. But they keep coming, and I hear footsteps coming up the back stairwell.

I’m outnumbered.I know it, and a cold, sick feeling creeps through my stomach. Someone grabs me from behind, wrestling me backwards, and I whip one of the guns around, firing into his gut just as another of the guards aims at me—and a bullet hole opens in his head from behind.

Dimitri comes up the stairs, Vik on his heels, more of his men fanning out around him as they emerge onto the floor. “Get in the suite!” he shouts at me over the rattle of gunfire, dropping two more of the men. “Get to Gregoriy. I’ve got your back.”

I don’t hesitate. I bolt for the suite door, firing at whoever is in my way, the scent of blood and heated metal and the sound of shouts and bodies hitting the floor with that hardthudof dead weight filling my senses. I don’t stop until I’m inside, and I hear Dimitri’s men behind me, helping me clear a path towards the suite’s living room.

Gregoriy is there, flanked by guards, standing near a large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the street. They open fire at the same moment that Dimitri’s men and I do, and I hear Dimitri behind me, shouting. The sound of glass shattering joins the ripple of gunshots as the window behind Gregoriy is hit in a dozen places, and he leaps forward, darting for cover just as I intercept him.

“No you fucking don’t,svoloch,” I snarl, my hand twisting in the front of his collar as I grab him. The hot metal of the gun presses against his throat, and he lets out a yowl of pain as I drag him back towards the shattered window, ignoring everything else. Dimitri and Vik and his other men are still holding off the security Gregoriy has left, but I can’t see or hear anything beyond him.

I drag him up to the edge of the shattered glass, the crunch of it impossibly loud in my ears. “I’ve thought every night for fiveyears of how I’d kill you, you piece of shit,” I snarl, tossing the gun to one side as I grip his shirt. He shoves at me, cursing in Russian, and I raise the gun in my other hand to the side of his head, pressing the hot metal to his temple. “Your men are dead. It’s just you and me now, you fucking bastard.”

The gunfire has gone quiet behind me. The room smells like blood and sweat. Behind me, I hear Dimitri speak.

“If you want to take this slow, brother, we need to go,” he says quietly. “By now they’ve called the cops. If you want to take your time, let’s take him with us and go.”

I consider it, looking at Gregoriy’s defiant face, hearing him still spitting curses at me. It would feel good to take my time, to recreate every slice and burn, to peel the flesh from his skin while he begged for mercy. I’ve dreamed of it the way a person dreams of a good meal after years of poverty, the way a man dreams of fucking a woman he’s wanted above all else. But what I want in this moment, more than anything else, is for this to be fucking finished.

“You won’t get away with this, Yashkov,” Gregoriy spits. “Your bitch will suffer. You’ll suffer. I’ll fucking punish you from the grave, you?—”

I hit him hard in the mouth with the butt of the pistol, sending blood spilling from his mouth. “Shut the fuck up,” I snarl. “I want you dead. I want you deadnow. And that’s the only reason that we’re not going to find out if you can survive every torture you inflicted on me for as long as I did.”

I shove him backwards, towards the shattered window. Gregoriy’s eyes go wide, and for the first time, I see real fear painted across his features.

“Wait!” He shakes his head. “Wait! We can discuss this—Dimitri! You’re thepakhan, not your brother. We can come to terms. We can?—”

“There are noterms,” Dimitri snarls. “If I’d known my brother was alive, I’d have ripped out every branch in your family tree years ago. I’d have murdered everyone connected to you and salted the earth with their blood. The only thing you can do now, Volnov, is fucking die. However my brother chooses.”

I swallow hard, enjoying the look of terror on his face, the moment when he realizes that it’s finished. “I choose now,” I say simply, and I shove him hard.

He tries to catch himself, the human instinct for survival kicking in even in the face of a death much less painful than the one he’d get if he lived a little longer. He fails, the momentum carrying him backwards, and he crashes through the remainder of the broken window, eighteen stories above the street below.

I watch just long enough to see him fall to the street below. And then I turn to where Dimitri is standing.

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