Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Maks…”
“He went with honor.” He nods as if to himself. “He saved a kid by covering him with his body because he was a responsible fucker.”
I squeeze his shoulder and he inhales shakily. I wish I could tell him it’s okay to cry or scream or do whatever necessary to express his grief, but these men are backward and would see it as a weakness.
“Anyway.” He raises an imaginary glass. “I promise to live all the years he couldn’t, singing for both of us.”
I clink my imaginary glass against his. “I’ll join.”
“That’s my man!”
“Where’s Yuri?” I ask, casting a glance at my surroundings.
“He got his hand fucked up.” Maksim wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads me down the hall.
Soon after, we arrive at a room where a few soldiers are lying on beds, some with bandages, others with casts. It’s a gruesome view of the aftermath of violence.
Near the window, I spot Yuri’s frame, facing away from us, his bandaged hand hanging limply at his side.
We slowly approach him, but the moment we’re within reach, Maksim all but slaps him on the nape. “Yo, fucker, look who’s back!”
Yuri turns around with every intention of smacking his friend into oblivion, but he stops upon seeing me.
“Sasha!”
I’m the one who gives him a bro hug this time and resist the urge to linger for a bit too long. I’m just so thankful they’re both alive and well. I’m already fragile, and if anything had happened to them, too, I wouldn’t know how to survive it. Rulan and his men’s deaths are affecting me enough as it is.
While Maksim is the heart of the party, Yuri is the soul. His face is classically handsome. Dark blonde hair, a square jaw, and a set of familiar, welcoming eyes. It always feels as if we met in a previous life.
“He hurt his shoulder.” Maksim points a thumb at me, then juts his chin in Yuri’s direction. “You injured your hand, but I’m as good as new.”
Yuri slams his whole palm into Maksim’s face and pushes him away. Then he pulls out a chair for me before he sits on the bed. “Let’s talk like grown-ups without this spoilsport between us.”
“You damn traitor! Are you exchanging me this easily?” Maksim headlocks him and hits him teasingly.
A faint smile paints my lips and grows the more I watch them. They’re a better distraction than the chaos in my head.
Yuri swats Maksim away as if he’s nothing more than a fly and focuses on me. “What happened with you and Captain? How come you went missing for days?”
“When I got shot, Ki…I mean, Captain took me to a small village where we remained in hiding until I got better. We would’ve come sooner, but there was a storm.”
“No wonder we couldn’t get a signal.” Maksim places both his hands on the mattress and leans against them. “Viktor was going berserk trying to locate the boss. I’m glad you’re back, but Captain won’t have it easy.”
I lean closer in my chair. “What do you mean?”
“He’s with the higher-ups now, who will, without a doubt, put the blame on him for the mission’s failure, when it’s clear that it was plotted all along. It doesn’t matter what he might have done, he was set up for failure from the get-go. Those stupid fuckers planned all this.”
“Shut it.” Yuri kicks his friend in the shin, and the latter howls.
“What the fuck was that for? I’m telling the truth here. Sasha deserves to know why he took that bullet.”
I stare between them, grabbing for a sliver of information. “What’s going on?”
“Remember the fat man who came on the day of the mission?” Maksim asks.
“Captain’s father?”
“That’s the one. He’s always wanted Boss back in New York and has been trying to get him to discharge from the military for years. Since he failed and most of us chose to stay with the boss, what do you think his next course of action would be?”
“Try to force him.”
He snaps his fingers. “Exactly.”
“We don’t know for sure.” Yuri lowers his voice. “But it’s true that the old boss met the captain’s commandants prior to leaving.”
“In our line of work, we don’t believe in coincidences,” Maksim supplies.
“Does…could the captain share the same suspicions?” I ask.
“I’m sure he does.” Yuri’s brows draw together. “If we thought of this after the mission, then he must’ve figured it out during. It’s probably why he was hesitant about sending the units to that warehouse.”
Shit.
If that’s the case, and he was sabotaged by his own father, then how can he stay that calm? Just what type of steel is Kirill Morozov made of?
Maksim changes the subject to focus on me, and I realize they’re trying to escape the reality they find themselves in and whatever the future holds for them.