The predator is back.
Rodion cracks his knuckles. “Back to business?”
“We can’t prolong this. I need to get back to her.” I crouch beside Yaroslav, grab him by the throat, and squeeze just enough for panic to set in.
“Look at me.”
His swollen eyes flicker open, dazed.
I lean in, my voice low, deadly. “You put your hands on her. That was yourfirstmistake.”
I pull my knife free, running the tip along Yaroslav’s jaw, not slicing through flesh. Yet.
“Your second…” I drag the blade lower, pressing it just under his sternum.
“Thinking you’d fucking get away with it, you son of a bitch.”
Yaroslav sobs, blood and snot running down his face.
“Please—”
I drive the knife into his gut. He howls.
I twist the blade. Slow. Precise.
I hurt him. I’ll kill him now. I’ll own this.
I watch the light start to fade from his eyes.
In a whisper, I deliver the final words he’ll ever hear.
“She’s mine now, you son of a bitch. Go to hell knowing that I don’t ever share.”
I twist the knife again.
“This is your payment for what you did to her. No one will ever hurt her again. Especially you.”
I pull the blade free, and Yaroslav chokes and gurgles. Blood splashes on my hands before I go still.
I wipe my knife on his shirt and stand.
Rodion exhales, cracking his neck.
“Well, that was satisfying. I think we were too easy on him.”
“Definitely. But I need to get home to her.”
I slip the knife back into place and pull out my phone.
Anissa is waiting. I left her safe, but I want to see her with my own eyes.
“I’ll call for cleanup. Let’s get you home to her,” Rodion says.
I nod and dial her number.
This time, she doesn’t answer.
The phone rings. And rings.