Page 84 of A Pawn in the Game
I cock the gun, and he whimpers. I can practically sense his fear. It smells of sweat and musty clothes and faintly of ammonia. “What do you get out of it?” I ask in a voice I don’t recognize.
He lifts his hand in surrender, rushing to answer. “They take care of my little problem.”
And that’s when it hits me. He did use plural. Talking about pawns, he didn’t mean only me. My lungs expand, every word out of his mouth fueling the rage inside of me. “What problem?” I have a feeling I know, but I need to hear him say it.
“I was supposed to take over after Matej died.” He points a shaky finger at his chest. “Me! But the boys…” He shakes his head. “It was my fucking turn!”
“So you made a deal with the Russians to get rid of them? To get rid of your own flesh and blood?”
My hands are steady on the gun as my anxiety gets replaced with determination. It swirls like a cold front through me, chilling my insides. He planned to kill his nephews to become the boss. He planned to kill Luka. My breath hitches in my throat, the thought piercing my chest.
Is he okay?
“He kidnapped you and locked you in here!” Foam is now forming at the corners of his mouth. “I’m trying to get you out.”
“He fucking saved me!” I roar, the butt of the gun connecting with his face. I hear a disgusting crack, followed by a wail. Blood follows right behind. This time, the blood doesn’t make me sick.No, each drop that hits the chessboard where I beat him makes my shoulders and spine straighten. Fills my muscles with nervous energy.
For the first time in forever, I am not afraid.
The feeling only lasts a second before a loud smash on my left makes me cover my head.
CHAPTER 41
Luka
Ascreech of the brakes buzzes in my ears as I park in front of the club and slam my door on the way out.
I’m so fucking pissed that I don’t even lift my head before barging through the entrance door. It’s empty. The bar that should be filled with drunken patrons and questionable decisions is completely vacant.
My stomach drops as dread constricts my throat. Metal rasps as I draw the gun out of the holster and head toward the dungeon. My heartbeat thuds against my ribcage, loud enough I’m afraid someone will hear it. Smooth steps down the stairs. I hear commotion on the other side of the door. Loud voices. My vision reddens. Taking a step back to get a running start, I run through the door, knocking it off its hinges.
A sharp pain shoots through my right shoulder, but I shake it off, raising my weapon to focus on the scene in front of me.
Sophie has a gun pointed at Uncle Toma, her eyes widened at me, but her hand steady. He, on the other hand, has a bloodied face and what seems to be wet pants.
“Luka, hvala Bogu da si tu!” Thank God you’re here,he mutters out.
I don’t know what I expected when I barged in here. I wasscared to even put the thought out into the universe. But this certainly wasn’t it.
“You’re good?” I half-ask, half-say, my eyes connecting to Sophie’s.
Now that she has recovered from the shock of seeing me, she looks determined. She snaps her gaze back to Uncle, her brows furrowing.
“I know you must be mad I left. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed here and told you exactly how I feel,” I say, and she glances at me, her hand unwavering. “Lower the gun,mila.”
“He made a deal. To get rid of you and your brother,” she says.
Sooner than her words register in my brain, Toma starts pleading. “Don’t listen to her, Luka. She’s just trying to protect herself. So that you don’t find out she has a deal with the Russians.”
Sophie lets out a huff, and I lift a single eyebrow. Uncle mistakenly reads my expression as support because a tear runs down his cheek, as his eyes widen with childlike glee.
“Lower the gun. Slide it over.”
This time, she lets out a loud, frustrated groan before pointing the gun at me. “You can’t be serious. You probably think I’m crazy for falling in love with someone who kidnapped me. But you can’t seriously believe him.”
Even though I’m staring down the barrel of a gun, the corner of my mouth hooks. She’s frustrated, angry, but she doesn’t seem scared. She seems fearless, and for a woman who lived in fear for so long, I couldn’t be prouder.
Her eye twitches, noticing my smile.
