Page 167 of Vendetta Vows

"Zarechka," I whisper, the word falling from numb lips as darkness claims me.

43

AURORA

The house sits quietlyat the end of the street, looking so ordinary that it sends chills down my spine. Suburban. Normal. The kind of home where kids ride bikes on the driveway and neighbors wave from their lawns. Not the kind of place where monsters hide.

But I know better.

I park the car at the curb, my hand trembling against the steering wheel. The gun is heavy in my hand as I slide out of the car, my body moving on autopilot while my mind screams at me to turn around.

The diamond ring on my finger catches the afternoon light. In this moment, I'd give anything to have Ruslan beside me.

The front door is ajar. Just like seven years ago. Just like when I walked into my childhood home.

It's like he's recreating my nightmare down to the last detail.

I check the gun one last time.

The safety's off, a round already chambered. I can do this.

I have to do this.

The door creaks as I push it open. Hannah's muffled cries hit me first. She's gagged, tied to a chair in the center of the living room. Blood trickles from her forehead, her red hair matted against her temple.

Her eyes widen above the cloth gag, tears streaming down her face.

Then I see him. Kristofer.

Seven years have transformed him. His once-athletic frame has bloated into a disgusting collection of rolls and fat. His clothes stretch tight across his gut.

But those same cold and possessive green eyes haven't changed at all.

"Jamie," he breathes my name like a prayer as his eyes hungrily look me up and down. "You're still as beautiful as I remember in my dreams. Even after these seven long years."

The knife in his hand presses against Hannah's throat, drawing a thin line of red. Hannah's eyes lock onto mine, pleading silently.

Shoot him! Just shoot him!

My gun feels impossibly heavy.

"Drop the gun, Jamie," Kristofer says, his voice eerily calm. "One wrong move from me, and your friend is going to die."

"You won't," I challenge, but my voice wavers. "You need her alive to control me."

Kristofer smiles, and the expression turns my blood to ice.

"Want to test that theory, my love? I've waited seven years and left three bodies, Jamie. What's one more?" He presses the knife harder, and Hannah whimpers. "Don't make me do this, Jamie. Don't make me do things that I don't want to do."

Hannah's eyes dart between us, wide with terror.

"Let her go," I plead. "This is between us."

"No," he says simply. "You made this about her when you decided to spread your legs for a fucking criminal. Now be a good girl, and drop the gun. Or don't, and I kill this bitch, and you would've come fornothing!"

My mind races through scenarios. Shoot fast, rush him, distract him. But they all end with Hannah's blood on my hands. I know what Kristofer can do. What he's willing to do.

And just like that, I'm right back where I started. Powerless.

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