Page 8 of Bluff

My vision blurs for a second, and I know it’s more than a graze. I have to get her to safety.

The car swerves, and she grabs onto the steering wheel.

“I don’t understand. What about the families? Them too?”

“Da.” My Russian slips out as we approach the outskirts of Summerlin.

“You did this too? For me? After what I did?”

“Had to, bunny. To save you.” My words slur, and she grips the wheel tighter.

“Were you shot?”

“Da.”

My head lolls back, and Ainsley helps me pull the car over. The guards are right behind us and pull over as well. I feel my body being lifted, but I don’t focus on anything but Ainsley’s voice until I’m lying in the back of the SUV.

“Bunny?” she says softly. Then she leans over me. “Mikhail, why did you call me that?”

My eyes roll back, and the pain pulls me under.

Chapter Four

AINSLEY

I look down at Mikhail, then up as we take off. Bunny. He called me bunny. Only one man has ever called me that. Master, the man who ruined me in one night. He said I reminded him of a frightened little bunny, caught by the wolf. And that night… he was the wolf. He knew how to play my body, and I haven’t been able to forget it since.

I lean over Mikhail and study his face. It can’t be him. Master wore a mask that night. Every inch of his skin was covered. Except… I gently lift his chin, and there it is. The edge of the tattoo I saw when my blindfold shifted. Two faces staring at each other, with the word mest between them. I don’t know what it means, only that it’s Russian. I remember seeing it that night, confused by it even then.

The soldier on Mikhail’s other side rolls him to check the wound. He talks to the driver in rapid-fire Russian. I don’t understand a word of it.

“What does this mean?” I ask, pointing to the tattoo on Mikhail’s neck.

“Vengeance,” the soldier replies.

“What does zayka mean?”

I knew Mikhail lied to me earlier when I asked. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and just stared over the top of my head.

“Zayka?” the soldier asks, and I nod. “Bunny,” he says in perfect English.

“What’s your name?” I ask him softly.

“Damir. I’m one of your guards.”

“Thank you for saving us. I’m sorry,” I tell him, taking Mikhail’s hand in mine.

The truth stares me right in the eyes, and my mind struggles to process it all. I bite my lip as the tears start to build. I hate crying. I hate that everyone is paying for my actions.

We pull up to the house, and I see Andrei standing with Dmitri. I hold Mikhail’s hand until they lift him out of the back of the car. Even Andrei, the boss, helps carry his friend inside. A man I don’t recognize stands at the entrance. I follow along behind them. I need to know what Mikhail sacrificed to the Pakhan. I need to know what penance was paid for me. I sit down, dropping my bag on the floor as they carry him upstairs.

I fidget, trying to keep my mind off the fact that a man I can’t forget is upstairs, having used his body to protect me. He took the bullet meant for me. Tears start to flow, but I stand up, wiping them away. With blurry vision, I head into the kitchen to make a pot of tea and some soup for when Mikhail wakes up.

I don’t know how long I’ve been puttering around. Andrei and Dmitri haven’t come down yet. I don’t hear anything until arms wrap around me, and the tears come harder.

“He’ll be okay. Don’t worry,” a soft voice says, unfamiliar yet soothing. I wipe my eyes and look at the petite woman holding me. Her dark hair is so similar to Lennon’s. “I’m Sparrow,” she adds gently. I endangered this woman’s life, and yet here she is, comforting me.

I can’t stop the fresh rush of tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know he had a gun. I didn’t know your brother was still after you. I’m so selfish.” I apologize for the part I played in her abduction months ago.

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