Page 61 of Kingpin
Dominic
One gun tucked into my pants, another with a silencer in the holster under my jacket, plus a knife in my pants pocket.
I approach the house from the front, because I don’t want Abram to think I’m doing anything he needs to be suspicious of. I won’t risk him hurting Alannah, so I get out of my car and close the door loudly, like everything’s normal. I walk to the front door, and before I can knock, it opens all the way. Abram fucking Baskov greets me with a nine millimeter already pointed at my face.
He’s wearing black sweatpants and a white tank top. His ugly fucking face is just as bearded and soft as it was the last time I saw him. He doesn’t have the look of a street guy, yet here he is pointing a gun at me, with the love of my life tied to a fucking chair in her own living room.
I see Alannah’s teary eyes and it makes my blood boil. I have half a mind to lunge at this fucker, but I have to keep myself under control. She doesn’t seem hurt physically, which makes it a little easier for me to keep it together, but just seeing the rope wrapped around her and weaving through the legs and arms of the chair is enough to make my knees shake with anger. She has duct tape over her mouth and her eyes are locked on me like she’s trying to communicate telepathically. I wish I could read her mind, but I’m stuck on the outside, trying to figure out what she needs me to do to save her.
“Nice of you to show up, Dominic,” Abram says as he steps back into the house but leaves the door open for me. “Get in here and close the door behind you.”
I don’t say anything, I just walk in and shut the door. Glaring at him, I stand there waiting for him to say whatever dumb shit he’s going to say, hoping a plan on how to end this as fast as possible will pop into my head.
But it turns out, I don’t need to read Alannah’s mind, because I can see her. Her eyes are still locked on me, but her right hand is slowly shifting from side to side, and the rope isn’t tight in that spot. She’s already trying to get free, so all I have to do keep Abram’s eyes on me. Who needs mindreading when your woman is independent and smart on her own? Just another reason she’s irreplaceable—another reason I can’t let this motherfucker hurt her.
Abram stands there staring at me for a while, just pointing the gun and twisting his lips. I can see he’s pissed and trying to figure out what he wants to do, like he never really had a plan, and now that I’m here, he’s trying to come up with what’s next.
“Take off your jacket,” he demands.
Shit. I was hoping he wouldn’t come up with that.
I have to keep Alannah in mind, so I do as he commands. I unbutton my jacket and toss it on the floor in front of him. Now my shoulder holster is fully exposed.
“Take that off and throw it on the floor, too. Then spin around with your hands in the air so I can see what else you’ve got.”
Again, I do as I’m told and toss the harness with the gun still inside. Then I put my hands above my head and do a full turn. He sees the gun and tells me to toss that one too, and I comply. I’m down to only one more weapon, and hoping he doesn’t think to make me empty out my pockets since he already found two guns.
“Do you know how much you’ve screwed me, Dominic?” he finally says, satisfied that he can’t see a weapon. “Do you know how much damaged you’ve caused? You killed my best guy. Yeah, remember that, you fucking Italian asshole. You had Alex killed just to try to intimidate me, but you can’t intimidate me. I have the blood of my father running through my veins. I’m a fucking Baskov, motherfucker. You don’t get to take from a Baskov without suffering consequences.
“So, here’s what we’re gonna do; I’m gonna take from you the same way you took from me. You took Alex, you took Anthony, and now I’m gonna take something of yours. Because that’s the way love works, Dominic. When it comes to someone like you, love will always hurt you more than it’ll help you. That’s the reason you were willing to come here alone—love. You left your friend at the hospital, where I put him, so you could save your love, and now you get to watch your love die.”
He turns around and aims the pistol at Alannah, and my insides explode. I clench my teeth and take a step towards him as a tear falls from Alannah’s eye. Then I take another step . . . and Abram spins back around, gun pointed in my direction.
BANG
That’s what it really sounds like when a gun goes off inside a house. It’s a loud pop that makes you jump, and you spend the next second trying to figure out if you got hit or not.
Well, I did.
Abram squeezes the trigger, I start falling to the floor, and Alannah screams behind the tape on her mouth. My body gets spun around and I land on my stomach, face down on the hardwood. I immediately see blood on the floor beneath me, and then comes the sharp pain in my shoulder and shooting down my left arm. I still hear Alannah’s muffled screaming as my eyes bulge at the sight of the blood.
“What’d you think this was, a fucking game?” I hear Abram say behind me. “I figured you’d try to pull some shit like that. Oh, but don’t worry, I wasn’t even trying to kill you. At least not until I make you watch me pull all the fingers off your little bitch’s hands, and then put a bullet right between her eyes. After you watch that, then I’ll kill you. Now turn over. Turn over!”
I wince as I have to use my shoulder to push myself off the floor and turn around. He’s aiming the gun at Alannah again, and I feel helpless. If I move, he’ll shoot me, but not to kill me. If I don’t make a move, I’ll have to watch him kill Alannah. One of those is worse than the other. I’d rather die trying to save her than watch her be killed right here in front of me. I’ve got to do something.
I look at Alannah as Abram turns to face her. She doesn’t look at him, though, she looks at me. We lock eyes, and I can tell she’s trying to communicate still, so I look down at her hand. She’s still wiggling it, and the ropes are starting to give way. She keeps her eyes on me, and I know what’s next. I raise myself off the floor some more so I can be ready.
All of a sudden, Alannah’s right hand breaks free of the rope with one quick jerk. The second she has it free, she reaches up and grabs ahold of Abram’s gun, and I jump into action. I hop to my feet and spring towards him. I hit the Russian with a linebacker style tackle that sends all three of us crashing to the floor in a heap, one on top of the other, while the gun goes skidding down the hallway. Abram quickly tries to go get it, but I hold him down and punch him in the face with everything I’ve got.
The pain of the bullet in my shoulder steals my strength, though, and the impact isn’t as strong as I’d hoped. Abram recovers from the blow with ease, and quickly turns the tables with a punch of his own, knocking me off of him. Alannah struggles on the floor next to us as we wrestle, trying to keep the other away from the gun. I swing a right hook and it lands in Abram’s ribcage, knocking him back, then I throw a left cross that hurts my shoulder, but it connects with Abram’s temple and he collapses. In that moment, I remember I’m not totally unarmed.
I pull the knife from my pocket and jump on top of Abram, who uses both hands to try to keep me from stabbing him. I aim the knife at his throat and push down with everything I’ve got, but he’s got a death grip on my wrist. We struggle for far too long, and my shoulder is getting weaker by the second, but I won’t quit until he’s dead. I keep pushing, but Abram’s attention shifts to my shoulder, and he takes a hand off my wrist and plunges his finger into the bullet hole.
I let out a blood curdling scream as I succumb to the pain and my arm goes limp, releasing the knife. Abram punches me in the chin and tries to scramble to get up, but I gain my balance and grab him from behind. I wrap my arms around his neck and start to squeeze.
I dig my forearm into his throat and squeeze every muscle in my body. It hurts like hell, but I don’t let go, even after he tries to dig his fingernails into my skin, I keep squeezing. His legs go kicking in every direction as his air supply is cut off, but I don’t stop—not until he stops moving all together.
It only takes a few seconds, and then the kicking stops. Abram’s arms go limp and drop to his sides, and in that exact moment, my muscles seem to reach complete failure and I have to let go. I push Abram off to the side, and fall backwards, completely exhausted.
