Nikolai

 

I drove with purpose towards the warehouse. After getting the disposable cell phone from the market, as well as a couple of things to ensure that Madeline’s morning sickness didn’t suddenly rear its ugly head, I made a point to call Sergei and check to make sure the truck was still there. It was, he assured me. I felt a little bit better this time around, having a few things working in my favor. The first was that Logan felt certain I was dead. It was his own stupidity that had ensured he hadn’t finished the job of putting me to rest and it served him right that he would feel falsely secure. The second was that I knew Joshua would be there, too. Madeline had provided me with that bit of information and it was helpful, because I knew what to look out for.

 

My eyes glanced over at Madeline in the passenger seat. She was quiet, thoughtful. Up to this point, she had been pretty adamant about her brother, sure that he wasn’t capable of the things for which he’d been accused, but tonight she was strangely silent.

 

I think it had to do with the confession of killing me; ironically enough, that swayed her opinion of him. After all, if he was capable of killing me, wasn’t he just as capable of having murdered someone else? It didn’t matter that he actually hadn’t managed to finish me off, only that he’d intended to.

 

Still, I was surprised she was going along with this so willingly. Perhaps she was still in shock after what happened in the motel.

 

I gripped the steering wheel tighter until my knuckles were turning white. What sort of monster tried to rape a pregnant woman? I should have killed him right then and there, and probably would have if Madeline hadn’t been in the room. But she was, and though smashing his face in helped a little bit, it didn’t really quell the licking flames of hatred burning in my gut.

 

At least she’s safe. At least she’s with me.

 

It was the only comforting thought I had, really.

 

After a while of driving, Madeline finally spoke up, her voice small and hesitant. “You’re going to kill my brother, aren’t you?” she asked, her gaze ahead of her instead of turned towards me.

 

I frowned, not sure what to answer with. Of course I was, and I had the feeling she already knew that. Not wanting to lie to her, I nodded. “Yes.”

 

She fell silent again for a moment, then, “And that’s the only way? I mean, is it about the money, or something else?”

 

I wasn’t sure what she was getting at. I thought she had realized what sort of man her brother was. After thinking for a moment, I said, “It would be a lie to say it isn’t about the money. Even for those who love what they do, it is still, in some part, about the money. But that is not the only thing I take into consideration.”

 

“And what else do you consider then?”

 

I mulled the question over for a moment before answering, realizing how important it was. “It’s a little bit about justice, in a strange sort of way. Some people just need to die. They’re dangerous and have proved themselves to be nothing else. I can’t let that go, but I would be lying if I said I was only being noble or righteous. Because I’m not. I work for some dangerous people, Madeline. And these people are a big part of why I do what I do. I owe Mickey—” I slipped up, I realized, saying his name, but she was going to be a part of my life now. I’d already made up my mind on that, so I glossed over it and kept going. She needed to know who she was getting involved with. “—a lot and if he asks something of me, I won’t ask too many questions before I do what I do.”

 

There was a long pause filled with tense silence before Madeline spoke again. I was worried as she did, her next words a clue as to how all future conversations might go. “So you wouldn’t consider getting the police involved?” she asked timidly.

 

I glanced at her sharply and said in a flat tone, “No. Not even remotely.”

 

She frowned, turning in her seat so she was facing me. “What if it was reported anonymously? He could be locked away and you wouldn’t have to—”

 

I interrupted her before she went any farther. “Mickey won’t let the police be involved. Logan’s death warrant has already been issued. Now, it need only be served. And if not by me, someone else will take the job.”

 

She fell silent at that. We didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive. I knew she wanted to find another way, one in which her brother survived, but there was nothing I could do about that. She loved him, yes, but he’d already wasted too much time and messed up in too many ways. There was no more lenience to be offered.

 

***

 

We arrived at the warehouse a little while later. It was still light and the first thing I noticed was that the streetlights in the immediate vicinity were out. None of them worked until several blocks down. I didn’t think it was a coincidence.

 

The second thing I noticed was the red truck parked out front. There was a second vehicle there next to it, a beat-up Chevy that I hadn’t seen before, but I imagined it belonged to Joshua. Other than those two cars, the place looked deserted.

 

I had the lights off on the car, though it was still running as I carefully crept around the warehouse looking to see what I could find. I noticed a broken window that could probably serve as my way in, and a back door that looked to be sealed shut. The front door seemed to be open, like they entered that way and didn’t bother to close it up after, but I didn’t want to risk going in the same way. Too dangerous, too obvious. No, I’d use the window.

 

Driving down the street a little ways, I finally turned off the car, but I left the keys there. Checking my gun, I spoke to Madeline who was sitting in the passenger seat, trembling. “All right, I’m going to go in. You’ll have to stay here—I won’t risk you in there if things go badly.”

 

She opened her mouth to protest, but I fixed her with a harsh stare. She closed her mouth without saying a word.

 

“I’m going to leave the keys here, just in case. If anything goes wrong, if anything seems wrong, I want you to run. Don’t go to the police,” I cautioned, sensing what a young woman, wholesome and sweet, might do in this type of situation. “It’s not just a matter of justice with the people I work for. If they figure out you gave them up to the police, the price will be on your head.” I didn’t tell her that I wouldn’t be there to save her, either. “Instead, keep your head down. There’s spare cash in the glove compartment. Don’t go home. Get out of town, use a new name. Start over.”

 

She looked terrified by all I was telling her. Tears pricked at her eyes as her hands overlapped her stomach, not yet swollen with the baby growing inside. The baby I now knew was mine.

 

Pride and sadness alike swelled within me at that thought. There was a chance I might die tonight without ever even seeing my child, but I pushed that thought aside, focusing on what I had to do. Pulling Madeline across the seat to meet me, I pressed my lips to her in a searing, passionate kiss. One that I hoped told her everything I was feeling in that moment.

 

I hoped it told her that she was mine.

 

When I broke it, her lips were swollen and her eyes fluttered. “Hide in the backseat,” I told her seriously. “If I don’t make it back, take the car and the money and run. And Madeline?”

 

She looked up at me with those huge, bright blue eyes.

 

Taking her hand, I moved it so it was palm up and put one of my two spare guns in the palm of her hand. “Protect yourself. Protect that child.”

 

Before I left, she grabbed me and whispered, “Please come back.”

 

I nodded once, then I was gone.

 

It was impossibly dark outside, so it took me a long moment to let my eyes adjust and get my bearings. Once I did, I spotted the broken window and made a beeline for it. Heaving myself inside, I dropped down quietly, my fall barely making a clopping noise. Even so, I ducked down behind a stack of crates three tall, waiting.

 

When silence carried through the entire place and no one made a move as though they’d heard me, I peeked around the corner of the crates. It was empty. Frowning, I straightened up and pulled my gun, searching the lower floor of the warehouse. Cursing quietly, I was about to reconsider my options—perhaps they’d gone somewhere else, maybe it was a different warehouse, maybe they’d dumped the truck—when I heard voices. Swiveling around, I found a set of stairs leading to an upper floor. Floating down those stairs were voices.

 

One of them I recognized as Logan’s.

 

I headed up the stairs as slowly and silently as possible, gun at the ready. As I moved closer, I caught pieces of their conversation. “I don’t want to do that,” said Logan.

 

The other man answered in an annoyed voice. Joshua. “We don’t have a fucking choice, man. This is your goddamn fault.”

 

There was a pause, then Logan demanded, “How the hell was I supposed to know she’d show up at the motel?”

 

I frowned as I continued my way up the stairs. She? I had a sinking suspicion that I knew who they were talking about and I was thinking I didn’t like why they were talking about her.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Joshua again. “She did show up and now she’s a goddamn liability.” There was a long pause, then Joshua sighed and said, “She’s gotta die, man. You know it and I do.”

 

I tensed. This was a moment of truth for me. Joshua was willing to kill Madeline—which meant there was no question in my mind that he had to die, preferably in a horrible way—but Logan was her brother. Would he really go along with this?

 

There was a lengthy pause, but finally Logan spoke and sealed his fate. “I know. But…I don’t have to do it, right?”

 

My blood ran cold. I thought of two little blonde children running around on a farm together. I thought of Madeline’s bright, sweet smile. I thought of my child growing inside her. Taking a steadying breath, I reminded myself that I got to Madeline first. She was safe and they wouldn’t touch her.

 

Not now, not ever. Tonight, I was going to kill them both and there would be no mercy for either of them.

 

I was about to enter the room, when I heard the creak. It was the step just below me. Before I even had the chance to turn around, I felt the barrel of the gun digging into the back of my skull.