Page 81 of Luka

I shove him off with two hands to his chest, and he easily flies backward in his weakened state, still gripping the knife. He raises it up like he’s going to come at me, but I pick up my gun and point it at his torso. When I see the pain cross his expression, I almost lower it. I almost drop to my knees, beg his forgiveness, and wish it was me that they’d taken.

But there’s one very,verylarge problem I can’t ignore. If Arseni is here now, with his phone, and he was the one texting me… Then they must have let him go. Which means he must’ve given them a reason to.

“Did you tell them where Lucia was?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Already trying to calculate how fast I could get to Spokane and knowing how useless that would be.

He asked for the room number. They were already there.

“What thefuckdo you think?”

“Arseni,please.” I lower the gun, holding it at my side while I feel my face contort with more pain than he shows. “She is the only woman I’ve ever loved. I amsorryI hurt you. I want to make it right… But right now, I need to know… Do they have her?”

“The only woman you’ve ever loved…” He looks off, his jaw clenched. “Tell me something first, Luka. If I had told you that yourlove’speople had me. That they’d starved me, beaten me,tortured me for days, and the only way they’d let me go is if you traded her for me… Would you have done it?”

He turns back to me with his face hard as stone, like he already knows the answer. Or like there isn’t one I could give that would ever be good enough. My mouth opens, but no words come out when I don’t know what to say.

Weeks ago, I swore I would slit Arseni’s throat if it came down to him and me. I was ashamed of it then, but I don’t feel that way anymore. I don’t even think I felt it then, only that I convinced myself I was capable of such selfishness. But I’m learning that my heart is gray. Not black. I wish, with everything, that I could’ve taken his place. I wish it would’ve been me they punished.

I would take a bullet for him. I know that now.

But I wouldn’t throw Lucia in front of it.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a curt nod. I open my mouth to explain, and when he lunges for me, he catches me completely off guard. Arseni is weakened, but he knows how to fight. His elbow jabs my nose before he hurls me to the floor, the gun clattering from my hand. I go to shove him off when he climbs on top of me, but the knife presses to my throat in an instant. My eyes close as my carotid throbs against the blade. Any jerk of Arseni’s hand will be it for me.

“Do you know why they let me go?” he asks, his voice level.

The knife is so firmly against my artery that I’d rather not speak, not move a muscle. But he wants this. Heneedsthis.

“Because you gave her to them.”

“No, Luka,” he says, his voice a whisper now. “Because I promised them I would killyou. And you are the Pakhan’s brother-in-law.You, they thinktheyshouldn’t touch… I should’ve told them how much you don’t matter. How you’re just a guard. How nobody, not even your own family, would give afuck if you were dead. You don’t want to know what they did to Mackenzie.”

He gets close to my ear. Any moment, I think his hand will move, and I can’t help but see the irony of this. I’ve felt so much confliction over turning Arseni into a killer. Perhaps this is poetic justice.

“But,” he says, emotion flooding the one word. “Ican’t.”

He pulls the knife from my throat and stands abruptly, his sickly form standing over me. Through the swelling, I spot tears in his eyes for the second time since knowing him.

“I fucking hate you.”

He shakes his head at me, lets the knife fall from his grasp, and turns to walk toward my door. He stops with his hand on the handle, his back facing me.

“They’re taking her to Chicago… Good luck fighting the cartel, asshole.”

I sit up as he leaves, my heart racing faster than ever.

Chicago. That’s over a day’s drive away from Spokane. A hell of a lot less if they fly, but…

I still have time.

25

LUCIA

The roar of the plane vibrates the warm metal my back leans against, but it isn’t loud enough to drown out the pounding of my heart. Or the sadistic laughter of two of my handlers.

I can’t make out what they’re saying, but even if I could, I wouldn’t listen. I’m too afraid of what happens next to seek out the information. I don’twantto know what happens next.

There’s this fantasy in my head that I’m about to live out some sort of twist. Mario isn’t really the villain, he’s merely playing their game. He’s biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to sink a bullet into the other men’s heads, then try to whisk me off, just as we’d planned. He’ll tell me he made a horrible mistake, thatyes, he came to work for my father with bad intentions, but then he got to know me. I changed him, made him a better man, and all he wants is to drive me to Canada where I can live my better life, in peace. We’ll shake hands, maybe even kiss on the cheek, and never see each other again.

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