Page 62 of Bratva Queen

“No… no, no, no!” I felt hot tears burn my cheeks as I looked at the long slash across her neck with blood across her entire chest, neck, and in her hair. Her eyes were closed.

“What the fuck happened?” I shouted, knowing Lev was still behind me. I could hear his own silent sobs.

“Apparently, he—he thought she was sleeping with Serg.”

My eyes widened. So this was my fault. I fucking knew it! All along, I’d known that I would be the cause of her death. That just one touch from me would result in exactly this!

I rocked my body back and forth with her in my arms, dropping my head onto her chest. “No… I should’ve been here… Fucking hell,I should’ve known!”

Her body hung limp in my arms while my chest tightened up in a way I’d never felt before. It felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I thought,that’s right… take me with you, Isabel, baby. I don’t want to breathe anymore if you aren’t breathing too.

When my head sunk against her chest, I felt it. Her lungs. Very slightly, her chest lifted, then sunk back down. It was almost imperceptible but my heartbreak had me clutching at any modicum of hope. I quickly held my fingers to her wrist and felt the faintest beat. I could have been imagining it but there was no way I was going to give up on that tiny chance.

I sat up and looked at Lev, whispering, just in case anyone was still close by. This was her chance to get out, if she survived it, and I was going to make sure that Stepan had no idea about it. “Lev, Lev! I can feel her breathing. She’s still with us. I need something… something to stop the bleeding!”

Lev’s face became alive with hope, his eyes buzzing around the room. “Here,” he quickly said, as he pulled his jacket off. “Use my thermal.”

He pulled his white thermal undershirt over his head and handed it to me. I moved fast as I wrapped it around her neck, hoping to apply enough pressure to the cut to stop any more bleeding, but not crush her windpipe at the same time. Peeking up the stairs to make sure we were alone, Lev quickly put on his button shirt and jacket again.

“He must have just sliced the skin open, without cutting into her trachea,” I said to him. “Now, we’re going to wrap both of them in those tarps, and we’re going to put both in the trunk. But as soon as we’re out of eyesight, you pull over. I’m going to make sure to keep her alive in the backseat until we get to someone who can help her.” I looked up at him. “You hear me?”

“Yeah!” He nodded as though it was obvious, we needed to get her out of this house. Dead or alive, she wouldn’t be coming back.

The guards watched solemnly as we carried out the bodies. We’d asked two of them to come down and take Sergio’s body, while we carefully carried Isabel’s, making sure to keep her top side elevated. We lowered them into the large trunk of the hummer and got in.

As I passed one of the guards, I ordered him to let Stepan know that we were sorting it out, that we would be taking the bodies into the forest. Whenever we burned the bodies of our victims, we needed to be in an isolated area. This was to ensure that no one would see the smoke or smell the burning flesh, and that no evidence would be left behind to link us to the crime. Stepan would assume that was my intention, and it was, but only for one body. The other, I would be saving. No matter the cost. If I had to burn the fucking cut closed myself with a red-hot knife, I would do it.

When I had her in my arms in the backseat, holding her head up, I sparked an idea.

“Lev, you know the Stars Hotel downtown?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, looking into the rear-view mirror.

“Let’s head there. If I’m not mistaken, that old apartment building next door is still an illegal clinic.”

When we arrived, Lev banged on the door. The place was dark and quiet, but I told him to persist. Soon enough, the door opened a crack, and a man’s eye peered out.

“What?” he asked angrily. I couldn’t hear much from the backseat, but Lev spoke with him quietly, clearly mentioning my name as I’d told him to, because the man opened the door wider and looked toward the car. He came to the window.

“Aleksei, it’s been years!” You’d think he was saying it happily but alas, this man wasn’t one of my friends. “Why you showing up here asking for favors now? What do I owe you?”

“Everything. Since I haven’t yet told Stepan that you’re still operating after he told you to get the fuck out of the city and never come back. Once I do, I think that might just ruin things for you a little bit, no?”

He hissed in frustration, looking away in thought, before looking back at me. “What? What do you want?”

“Save her. And don’t tell a fucking soul. If this gets back to Stepan, I’ll make sure to mention your name before he slices my neck too.”

He scratched his head and groaned. “Fine!” He looked around, making sure no one was watching, then nodded and walked over to open the clinic door. Lev came over, took hold of Isabel’s legs, and we carried her inside.

Within the hour, the illegal doc nodded, washing his hands and drying them off. “She’s alive,” he said. “Barely.”

I could only hope his clinic was hygienic enough for her to not end up with complications. Though, at least he wasn’t performing surgery on her, like he did many other patients. Abortions, even organ or limb removals—whatever the fuck people were willing to give up to the black market for high prices. All Isabel needed was stitches and to make sure that she had no other major internal injuries, though we wouldn’t know for sure until she woke up.

He’d done exactly that, and given me a stash of illegally obtained medications to help with her recovery, before practically shoving us out of the door. We weren’t willing to hang around anyway, there was a beloved dead soldier in the trunk and we needed to get out of the city as soon as we fucking could.

The drive to my father’s old hunting cabin was only an hour, but the sun was rising by the time we arrived. The place was dusty and breezy through old cracks and broken windows, but it had enough to get us started. Firewood, a bed with mattress, a closet stacked with blankets, and thankfully, a hoard of tools.

Lev took the long ax and ventured out to find enough wood for us to burn Serg’s body while I pulled out the planks from half of the porch to patch up the cabin and its broken windows. Isabel was already inside, on the bed that we’d shoved closer to the fireplace. It was warming up, and so was she. She’d lost a lot of blood. I had no idea if she would make it through the next day, but I had to hope.

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