a fur coat, and her blonde hair glinted in the streetlight just above them.
Dammit, his wife had found him. He wasn’t alone.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Anton?” Masha asked. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded exasperated. “I thought we talked about this.”
Anton had tucked away his gun when he’d recognized his wife. Had she seen it? It was difficult to say.
“You told me you would be home by eleven.”
I glanced at my wristwatch. It was almost one in the morning.
“I don’t have to answer to you,” Lebedev shouted.
“Hush, Anton,” Masha scolded. “The children.” She pointed to the car, and I saw two white faces, wrapped in fur hats, peeking out.
For fuck’s sake! How the hell was I supposed to shoot the man now? No fucking way I was doing it with the kids watching. The women were bad enough – I hated seeing them wail in terror and anguish when their men went down. I’d given up on killing people in public a long time ago.
But kids? That was a whole different puddle of piss. I wasn’t in the business of causing irreparable damage to a child. Hell, if I’d been treated right when I was a little tyke, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up the bastard I was.
I put the gun away. My phone rang, vibrating against my leg. I pulled out the phone.
“Is it done?” Maksim asked.
“No,” I said. “There is a complication.”
“Don’t do this to me.”
I killed the call. I wasn’t arguing about this. I lifted my rifle and pointed it at Anton Lebedev. I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
The world turned red around me. I shattered into a million pieces that blew away, scattered on the wind.
“No!” I shouted, sitting up in my bed, breathing hard. My breath rasped in and out of my throat as I gasped for air. My skin was slick with sweat as I ran my hands through my wet hair.
“Hey,” Angela whispered next to me.
I jerked around, grabbing the thin neck and squeezing. Only when Angela cried out did I realize I wasn’t dreaming anymore. I was hurting her. I let go of her, jerking back, horrified at what I had done.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered fiercely.
“What the hell?” Angela whispered. Her hand was clutched to her throat, her eyes wide.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “You scared the living shit out of me.”
I felt like an asshole. Not Angela, of all people. I couldn’t hurt her. She was my Malen kiy.
“Are you okay?” she asked, staring at me wide-eyed.
Why did she care how I felt after what I’d nearly done to her?
“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice was hoarse. I struggled to keep my shit together. Fucking pathetic, if you ask me. I’d nearly hurt Angela. The one good thing that had happened to me.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
I nodded and swallowed hard.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t tell her about my past or anything that had happened in it. I hated these nightmares and how they came back to haunt me. How reality and my dreams melted together until I couldn’t tell one from the other. In my dreams, I did everything I’d vowed I wouldn’t do. In my dreams, I was the devil himself, with no moral compass, no heart.
And that wasn’t me. It wasn’t who I wanted to be.
“It’s going to be okay,” Angela consoled, reaching out a hand, then dropping it.
“Look at what I did to you,” I growled, riddled with guilt.
I felt like throwing up. What the fuck was this weakness? I’d never felt like this before. But I’d nearly lost myself working for Maksim. I didn’t want to be a merciless son of a bitch anymore.
With Angela there, I was reminded of the scum I had been. And I was so aware that I hadn’t changed, that I still wasn’t good enough for her, no matter what I had decided to become.
I will never be good enough for her.
I scrubbed my face with my hands as the realization hit me.
She put her hand on my back, careful to touch me, as if she knew how fucking close to the edge I was. I flinched, but she rested her hand on my shoulder blade and didn’t move it, as if she were touching an injured animal who might bite. Her hand was well below where the stitches had been put in, and her presence, her hand on my back, was soothing.
“Lie down,”