Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84788 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84788 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
By this point, I was smart enough to know things had just taken a turn for the worse.
"Tell me," I demanded, sitting up straighter, my spine suddenly feeling like it was made of steel.
"Christ, kid, you just signed your death certificate," he said, shaking his head as he tucked the information away.
For a second, I sat there, stunned silent as I tried to sort my racing thoughts so I could grab hold of one of them. "My... death certificate?"
"The reason the Kozlovs haven't been incarcerated has nothing to do with a lack of incriminating evidence, and everything to do with some friends in some high places. This," he said, lifting the folder, "is going to disappear. And then, say, twenty minutes later after it does, so will you."
"But... but how will they..."
"Come on, kid. Don't be stupid," he said, shaking his head at me. "I have no choice but to sign this into evidence. Someone between here and the evidence locker will find it, flag it, call the Kozlovs, and then it's all missing evidence and missing persons reports."
"I thought I was doing the right..." I started, feeling stupid, useless tears sting the backs of my eyes.
"Unfortunately, you are doing the right thing. But the Kozlovs run a tight ship and they will trace this back to you in a matter of minutes and then you will either be dead or wishing you were. It was the right move, Miss. Mckenzie, but it wasn't the smart one." He moved to stand and I jumped up too. "I hope I don't have to read about you in the paper anytime soon, or see your body in the morgue."
"But... no. Fucking no!" I shouted, slamming my hand down on the metal table. "Don't talk to me like I'm a walking target," I demanded, angrier than I had ever been in my life. He was a cop. His job was to serve and protect. In this case, his job was to serve and protect me. He couldn't just walk around issuing condolences for my seemingly inevitable bloody murder. No fucking way.
"Kid, there's nothing I can do. This evidence will go missing and then I have no cause to offer you protective custody."
"What if I had... copies?"
His face got serious. "Then I suggest you hide them in a good place until you find a cop you know you can trust in a force that has no connections to the Russians or any of their allies."
"How am I supposed to do that if I am apparently going to end up with a bullet in my brain in some alley somewhere?"
"Garroted," he corrected automatically.
"Excuse me?"
"Garroted. The Kozlovs, they aren't much for guns, though I'm sure they have them. They like the close contact kill, feeling you take your last breath at their hands."
"Great," I said, my hand raising to stroke over my throat as I thought of Viktor's and Ruslan's strong, capable hands holding a piece of wire between them and around my neck as I struggled for breath.
"Hey, look," he said, coming closer, lowering his voice. "I can't offer you protection, but I can offer you a lifeline," he said, his serious brown eyes on mine.
"And that is?"
"K."
"K?" I repeated.
"He's... well, I don't know what exactly he is. But word is, he helps women like you, women who have nowhere else to turn. He disappears them."
"He... disappears them?"
"Yeah. I know it doesn't sound great, but what other option do you have?"
Well, I figured I had better options than having some random whackjob 'disappearing' me that was for damn sure.
"K.C.E Boxing Emporium," he said, his words a little firm. "When you get your head out of your ass and see it's your only option, haul it over there."
"Right. Well, um... I know I should say thanks, but..."
"I get it," he said, nodding as he opened the door for me. "Don't get yourself dead, Miss. Mckenzie."
With those ominous words, I walked back into the blizzard. The eight inches was steadily making its way to ten as I trudged my way home, the streets hauntingly empty save for the occasional plow. It took the better part of an hour both because the sidewalks were impossible, but also because I took my time, trying to straighten my thoughts, weighing my options. By the time I punched the code into the outside door, my nose, fingertips, and everything under my waist and unprotected by my heavy winter coat was frozen.
I needed to leave town.
That much was obvious to me.
If some badass cop was telling me to run for my life, well, only an idiot didn't follow that advice. My plan was to grab a bag, throw the essentials inside it, like the pearl earrings my grandmother gave me and the ring I bought myself when I finished my degree, then just... head out. There was nothing for me in the city anyway. Not really. I had a few casual acquaintances, but no real friends and no family. It wouldn't be a hardship to leave, to move on. It was a big country; I could settle anywhere.