Anton sucked in his breath, the defeat clear on his face. He knew his time was up, and the consequences of his actions were upon him. There would be no arrest, no trial. Not this time. Since he hadn’t learned his lesson, it would be pointless to give him that right.
Nikolai pulled out his phone and put some criptic song on, signaling the poetic end. He gripped Anton once more, grinning.
While the investigation and the digging came with its own accomplishments, for Nikolai, the end was the pièce de résistance. He began singing. Ivan’s role of wielding the blade, that final cut from ear to ear, would be therapeutic. Killing scum like Anton, for him, had become as easy as breathing.
I knew the exact face he would envision as he expertly made his move. It was the same one Nik and I were imagining. I grabbed Anton by his oily hair and pulled his face up so he could see me directly.
“Do you know what Robert Louis Stevenson used to say, Anton?”
He shook his head.
“He said, ‘Sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences.’” I let it sink in before adding, “It’s time to feast.”
Nodding at Ivan, I gave him what he wanted. I stepped back and watched as the Blade worked. Grabbing the shackle Anton had completely missed, he wrapped it around his left foot before hoisting him upside down. With a loudclank, Ivan secured the shackle to one of the free hooks while Anton started pleading for his life, begging us to stop.
“I’ll give you the money, and I can get girls for you,” he offered.
With each second, his face got redder and the offers increased. He gave us everything but what we wanted to know. In one swift move, Ivan’s blade sliced him open. Hearing him gurgle was music to my ears.
Nikolai closed his eyes and whispered. I didn’t need to hear him to know what he said. He kissed his fingertips and raised them to the roof. Then he grabbed his phone, called the cleaners, and made his way over to pay Graham for his time.
If the guy Anton was working for was tied to the Russian Mob, then we owed it to the girls on the list to ensure their safety. A sinking feeling filled my stomach as I contemplated what we’d learned from Anton.
It was never-ending, the organizations that traded and scouted, looking for young children and those who were vulnerable. I squared my shoulders before meeting Ivan’s eyes.
As usual, he read my thoughts and stepped away, giving me some time to process everything. God, I was tired. So many fucked-up people in the world. Take one out, and another would take their place. Never-ending. Were we even making a dent in the world?
Anger coursed through me. Now was not the time to be having an existential crisis. People were depending on us and the skill sets we provided. But a deep sense of numbness seeped through my body, leaving my head to deal with the aftermath.
A slow, pulsing sensation began on the right side of my head. I knew that the severe throbbing pain would be right behind it. Just like clockwork, it never failed.
Chapter 9
Nikolai
Your Three O'Clock Is Here
Ivan had woken me quite rudely this morning and dragged me to the gym, despite my protests, mumbling about how I needed to get some sparring in. So I found myself dancing around the damned ring, dodging his blows.
He was on a roll today, and my sleep deprivation wasn’t helping matters. I swerved to avoid another one of his swings.
“Nikolai, tiger mentality,” he yelled.
Of the Shaolin Kempo Karate system, the snake, leopard, crane, and dragon all used defense techniques to block or dodge before moving in for the strike. All offense, the tiger’s nature didn’t involve defense. The tiger—the deadliest and most robust in the kingdom—always went in one direction: forward. Hence Ivan’s gruff command.
“You’re getting soft,” he sneered.
Ivan was our younger brother, although he stood taller and was broader. Alek was the oldest, my fraternal twin, with him being seven minutes older. I guess I should’ve been glad he wasn’t here, too, because he would give me shit as well.
“Fuck you,” I said, sweat dripping down my face.
“Want to know what I think?” Ivan teased. His words cut through the air like a whip as he stepped forward, determination etched on his face.
His taunting would have been fine on any other day, but today was not the day. Of course, the big lug punctuated his statement with a swift, calculated right hook that sliced through the space between us.
Damn, the man packed a punch.
The force behind it almost knocked me to my knees. He was making a point. Nothing like being schooled by your younger brother.
