Page 58 of Den of Thieves

“He would strike us all down for being lazy fuckers.” Nikolai laughed, and the other two followed suit. Venchi was oddly quiet.

“Come on, man. I know you think that Vladimir will be your brother-in-law soon, but you have to admit that was funny.”

Nikolai tapped Venchi’s shoulder in jest and his cards fluttered to the table.

“Venchi?” It was then that he realized how pale his friend looked.

Lydia screamed at the top of her lungs as her son slid sideways off his chair and collapsed on the floor with a thud.

Nikolai gasped for a millisecond before springing into action. He barked at Bogdan and Khruschev to bring towels and grab the first aid kit from the couch.

He lifted Venchi’s black sweater and cursed at the dark crimson soaking through the bandages Venchi haphazardly applied. No wonder he kept getting up to use the bathroom.

Lydia was still crying as she held her son’s limp hand in her grasp.

“Lydia, I need rubbing alcohol, pliers, and a hot knife.”

The older woman gasped but scrambled to do as he asked. She handed him a pair of pliers and alcohol and stuck a wooden spoon between Venchi’s jaws. She fixed Nikolai with a fierce glare.

“Do it.”

Nikolai felt around Venchi’s abdomen with his hands before he found the hardened object. He plunged the pliers in to the opening. Venchi screamed, nearly breaking Lydia’s hand in the process.

Honestly, Nikolai was surprised he was still awake. Lydia left once Venchi let go of her hand and came back with a glowing white knife.

“Here comes the hard part,” Nikolai gently.

Venchi looked at him like he was crazy. Because feeling someone probe your stomach with an old pair of pliers was hell on earth. Quickly, he masked his incredulity with a determined nod.

“Hold him down.” Nikolai ordered Bogdan and Khruschev, while covering his nose. The men gripped Venchi hard, but he still cried out and thrashed while the blade cauterized the wound.

Nikolai held it there until the bleeding stopped. Venchi fell back after the knife was pulled away.

Everyone sat back on their hunches, waiting for Venchi to stir. He was still breathing. Although it was shallow, it was enough for everyone to take a deep breath.

“N-Nikolai,” Venchi rasped.

Nikolai didn’t know how long he sat there looking at the jagged rise and fall of his chest before he spoke. He crawled closer so Venchi didn’t have to exert unnecessary energy speaking louder.

Nikolai reached over and took his outstretched hand.

The radios and cell towers were down, so they couldn’t call for backup. Venchi had to hang on until the morning at the earliest.

“Hang on, Venchi, help is coming.” Nikolai fed him more vodka to numb the pain. Venchi’s skin was so pale the man resembled a ghost.

He hoped his friend could hold on. Despite his best efforts, he’d grown fond of the giant.

“No, it’s not.” Venchi coughed, not believing his white lie. “Nikolai, tell Aksana that I’m sorry.”

“Shh, you tell her yourself,” Nikolai urged.

“N-no. I knew what she wanted, but I kept her at-at a distance until…she didn’t return. I was…afraid she would leave me for him.”

Nikolai nodded, not entirely following. He wanted Venchi to conserve his energy. He was going to make it. He had to. Suddenly, his eyes fluttered closed and his fingers slipped from his grasp.

Nikolai slapped Venchi’s face until his eyes opened once more. “Don’t die on me, you asshole. We just became friends.”

Venchi, shook his head slowly, like the act took more effort than he possessed. The shadow of a smile crossed his lips. “Stay strong, brother,” he rasped.

---