Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
A coppery smell, mixed with something foul, fills my nostrils as I wake up to the sound of men grunting and furniture breaking. My vision is foggy as I open my eyes, and I have to blink several times to bring the images into focus. My forearm burns, my ribs and stomach feel like one giant bruise, and my head throbs nauseatingly, but none of that matters once I realize what I’m looking at.
Nikolai and our father, locked in a deadly fight.
Blood covers them both as they roll on the floor, wrestling for control of the knife.
Adrenaline floods my veins, propelling me to my feet. My head swims, my vision darkening again, but I ignore it and lurch forward. “Stop,” I croak, stumbling toward them. “Please, stop.”
I trip over something and fall onto my hands and knees. White-hot pain shoots up from my right wrist, and I rise onto my knees, instinctively cradling it against my chest. There’s blood on me, I notice dazedly, so much blood. It’s dripping from my arm and covering the floor as far as the eye can see. I didn’t realize I had that much blood in me, that anyone had that much blood in them, not even—wait, I was going somewhere.
I jerk my head up and see that Nikolai is now on top of Papa, pinning him down. He also has the knife.
Finally. It’s over.
Except… Nikolai’s face is a mask of dark fury, his hand gripping the knife in a lethal hold I recognize from my lessons with Pavel.
Bile climbs up my esophagus.
No, please, no.
“Kolya, stop, please.” The words are but a hoarse whisper. I try again, my desperation growing. “Kolya, please!” I begin crawling toward him on my knees and the one hand that’s intact. “Stop. Stop now.”
He doesn’t listen.
As Papa reaches up to grab the knife, my brother evades his grasping hand and slices down, the deadly motion lightning quick.
Blood. More blood. It sprays everywhere, all over Nikolai, all over me. A scream rises in my throat and bursts out, and now, now Nikolai looks my way, his blood-splattered face pale and no longer twisted with rage.
Only it’s too late.
Lying pinned underneath him is the unmoving corpse of our father, his guts spilling out through the torso-length opening inflicted by his son’s lethal blade.
Another scream builds in my throat, but it doesn’t come out. It dies inside me because my eyes land on the other body in the room.
Mama.
At least I think it’s Mama.
It could also be a person-shaped, bloody piece of meat covered in shreds of clothing.
No. Please, no.
I crawl toward it, ignoring the pain stabbing up my arm, and when I get there, I realize it is her. Or rather, what used to be her.
What’s left can’t even be considered human. Papa sliced her up beyond all recognition.
A keening wail comes from somewhere, a cry of agony so gut-wrenching I can’t bear to hear it. I clap my palms over my ears, but the wail keeps going until thickly muscled arms wrap around me, pulling me against a blood-drenched shirt.
“Shh, Alinochka. Quiet down. It’s okay. It’s going to be all right.” Nikolai’s rasping voice might as well be that of a stranger. Same goes for his blood-covered face when I twist out of his hold and scoot backward. I don’t recognize this man kneeling in front of me… this violent killer who can’t possibly be my brother.
Shaking, I push up to my feet. I feel cold, so very, very cold. Numbly, my gaze travels from Nikolai to the bloodied lump that used to be our mother and then to the gutted corpse that used to be our father.
My knees buckle, and this time, when the darkness comes, I welcome it.
I never want to see the light of day again.
Chapter 13
Present Day, Location Unknown
Breaking eye contact with Alexei, I push up from the table in a sharp motion and stride over to the side of the boat, where I grip the wooden rail and stare out at the endless blue ocean, my chest heaving with uneven breaths. The memories press down on me, so heavy they suffocate me even after all these years.
My father killed my mother.
My brother killed my father.
I saw it all, and not a day has passed since that night during which I haven’t thought about it, haven’t remembered… whether consciously or in my nightmares.
Warm hands land on my shoulders from behind, strong thumbs digging into the tightly knotted muscles around my neck. It helps. The painful tension eases, the worst of the memories receding even as my spine goes rigid for a different reason… one that has nothing to do with that night.
“I’m sorry about what happened with your parents,” Alexei says softly, continuing the insidiously soothing massage. “I wish I’d known right away, but your brothers did a good job of covering it up.”