Andrius, who is Konstantin’s friend, gave Tigran that scar, then what has Konstantin done to others? Murder, torture, rape?
I think of him touching me, and I shiver as a cold, sticky dread coats me. Did I let a rapist inside me? Did I give my body, and let’s be brutally honest, part of my heart, to a truly evil man?
Exhausted, I curl up on the floor using my hands to cushion my head and close my eyes. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but I need to rest a little.
Pounding jars me awake, and I make a startled sound as I come online. My body must be full of adrenaline because my heart is pounding, and my breathing is fast. I realize straightaway, I’m not at home, nor am I at Konstantin’s house.
Then it all rushes back to me. A terrible montage of memories.
The door to the room I’m sharing with Liza bursts open, and Popov lumbers in. He’s a whirlwind of idiocy, mediocrity, and bumbling menace.
“Fucking hell, he’s going to do it.” He looks at Liza with triumph. “You might be a double-crossing bitch, but you proved useful. K’s bringing Andrius here. Told him it was to come see some guys who want to deal with Allyov, and there will be a massive cut in it for Andrius. To be honest, I can’t believe Andrius fell for it, but I suppose he trusts Konstantin from their time fighting together.”
“How do you trust they aren’t setting you up?” Liza asks, stretching lazily.
I want to scream at her to shut up. If they are setting these guys up, which is likely, why give them a heads-up?
“Because.” I jerk at Tigran’s voice and see him then, lurking in the shadows of the hallway behind Popov. “They have been told to be unarmed. We can see them approach from half a mile away, as they must drive up a single lane gravel road to the house. We have infrared cameras so we can see if they are concealing anyone else in the car. If it’s only Andrius and Konstantin, we let them approach, get them inside and check them for weapons… That’s when the fun begins. I have ten men here, and there’s also Popov and myself. They can’t take on twelve armed men. I doubt Konstantin would bring Andrius here unless he really is going to hand him over. Of course, he’ll be hoping I let him and you little ladies go, but I won’t.”
“What?” Liza is outraged.
“You’ve seen my face, stupid. Can’t let you go, can I?”
“But…” She pales. “I helped you.”
He enters the room and walks over to her. “Yes, you did, and for that I’ll make it quick.”
“I’m pregnant,” she says on a sob.
“So?”
“Popov?” She looks to him, her eyes wide. She parts her lips so they look all pouty and sexy as she widens her tear-filled eyes.
So Suzy was right, and sexy crying is a thing.
“What?” he says, cold and nasty.
“You won’t let him hurt your woman, will you?”
“I’d do it myself for the way you’ve fucked me over. The minute you thought Konstantin still cared, you went all fucking pathetic over him.”
She frowns, but it’s only a partial frown. I idly wonder if she’s had Botox.
Are these my last thoughts? I shake my head at myself. If I’m soon to be dead, I should think about important things, like my grandpa and grandma and how much I love them. I should think about the thorny issues in life; like how come you can buy twenty hair bands, and in a week there isn’t one to be found?
How do bees fly on those tiny wings with their big, relatively speaking, heavy bodies? How did the Brontes come up with such amazing stories, and what were their lives like? Were they as dark as their novels suggest?
The men leave the room, closing the door once more. Time stretches taut, an elastic band of anticipation and dread, as we wait.
“Got company,” someone shouts from downstairs, in a heavy Yorkshire accent.
It seems some of the men working for Popov are not Russian.
Liza stands and rushes to the window. She stares out of it and claps her hands. “He came for me! Oh my God, he brought Andrius. He did it, and it shows how much he cares.”
I can’t help but join her to look as the two men step out of the car and approach the house. The smaller top window is open a crack, and as the door