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GIFT FROM THE HITMAN: The Petrov Mafia by Zoey Parker (31)


Andrei

 

Leaving wasn’t easy. I had hit Mikhail Vasilev hard in the temple with the butt of my gun, but he was just unconscious. He wasn’t dead. I hadn’t had my revenge. I had gone upstairs, hoping to find either Vasilev or Kelly.

 

And I did find Vasilev, or rather he found me.

 

Maybe because of his cousin, or maybe because I was growing more desperate and just wanted to find Kelly as quickly as possible, I found myself aiming for legs rather than head shots. I was shooting to stop rather than kill. Might be stupid, but I did find that since I changed my shot location, my bullets were hitting their mark with more precision.

 

The amount of Vasilev’s goons up here was insane. It was a blessing I didn’t come up by myself. The ringing in my ears was growing worse, and my arms were growing sore from holding up the guns, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t quit.

 

My guys and I were in a tight circle, back to back, firing both sides of the hallway. Vasilev’s guys flooded the hallway, though some stayed in the doorways, using them as a shield to pop out from behind.

 

A few of my men, myself included, wore Kevlar. It wasn’t easy to get hands on it, or else I would’ve gotten enough for every single one of us.

 

Up and down the hall, I noticed which doors guys had left from and which had guys hiding in. Two doors had no activity, both on the left.

 

I motioned for the man next to me to cover me, and I darted down the hallway. The gun from Vasilev’s cousin ran out of bullets, and I used the butt of it to slam into the temple of a guy who rushed me. After I shot off another couple of shots, I knocked a guy down, shoved another toward one of his mates, and tackled yet another one. The useless gun smacked against his face, and he stopped moving.

 

More volleys of shots fired overhead, and I kept low as I neared the doors in question.

 

One of them opened, and I darted inside to see none other than Mikhail Vasilev, surrounded by no less than ten of his men.

 

“Leave us,” Vasilev demanded. “He’s mine.”

 

I dropped the gun that held no bullets and stepped forward to allow his men enough space to be able to live. How fitting that it would come down to this — to just him versus just me.

 

“You never should’ve taken her,” I growled.

 

Vasilev shrugged. “You never should’ve had your man sniff around my daughter.”

 

I circled around him, my gun raised and aimed directly at his. “If your daughter wouldn’t have talked so freely, he wouldn’t have bothered with her skirts.”

 

He sneered and fired a shot that I jerked to the side to avoid.

 

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” I mocked.

 

“You’re too arrogant and cocky for someone who has lost so much already. Or have you forgotten what I did to your parents? It was my mistake that I didn’t kill you off then.”

 

I smirked at him. “There’s a reason why you haven’t tried harder to kill me. You need the ransom money more than you need me dead. Oh, I’m sure you’ll kill me if I bothered to pay you, but—”

 

“I fired a shot at you,” he growled. “I could easily kill you right now.

 

“Then pull the trigger,” I said hotly. I damn near pulled the trigger myself. The firepower going off in the hallway was increasing, and a few guys were backing up and into my line of sight through the open door. Chaos, that’s what this was, and it would be a miracle if I could get Kelly and myself out of here alive.

 

Vasilev hesitated.

 

I barked a laugh. “You won’t, and I know why. Because you need me alive for my money. You’re that desperate for the ransom money.”

 

A loud explosion went off, and the house shook slightly. I darted forward and knocked Vasilev’s gun aside, clear across the room.

 

He backed up slightly, hands raised. “Listen, I—”

 

“No. You listen,” I hissed. “I don’t care who it is that kills you. Me. The police. The guys at Sanchez Trucking. Oh, wait…didn’t you realize I knew about that? About how you’re a wanted man? Because I did. You’re a dead man any way you look at it, Vasilev, because I can’t pay you. I won’t. I refuse.”

 

Sweat dotted his brow. I could hear a door swing open from nearby, more gunshots, too, but I didn’t glance away. I had Vasilev right where I wanted him.

 

“I could ask you to beg. I could make you get down on your hands on knees and plead for me to spare you. I could grab your family from wherever you stashed them, bring them here, and kill them in retaliation for what you did to me.” Quick as a snake, I leaped forward and twisted him around, his head in the crook of my arm as I held him tight in a headlock. “I could, but what would be the sense in that?” I whispered in his ear. “I know you, Vasilev. You would rather die than be thrown in jail. You would kill yourself first if given the chance since you know neither I nor the guys you owe money to won’t give you a peaceful, merciful death.” I pistol whipped him, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious but still alive. I bent down over him. “You won’t get the chance to hurt anyone else that I care about.”

 

I might’ve killed him right then and there, but I hesitated. The gun ringing, the shouts and cries of those in pain…everything had been so crazy. All that death and destruction. We knew what to expect, but we still hadn’t been prepared, and I lost a lot of good men.

 

But I had also found Kelly. She needed me. She needed my help. And that was more important than getting my revenge. She had called my name and brought me back to her, and I couldn’t bear the thought of wasting one more second of my life without her in it. I also didn’t want her to witness me killing someone, even Vasilev, the man responsible for her abduction. I wanted her to be safe, and that overrode everything else, including my revenge.

 

And here I was, holding her again, pressing her to me…it was amazing and wonderful but also absolutely terrifying. Someone had never meant this much to me before. I never needed someone else before. I had always kept walls up, to prevent myself from being hurt again, like I had when Vasilev had taken away my family. But Kelly…she meant everything.

 

And having her back again meant everything to me. For a moment, everything was perfect. It didn’t matter the world around us had descended into chaos, that guns were being fired, that we were still in danger. We were together.

 

But then I noticed her clothes were wet. It wasn’t until she mentioned the baby that I realized she was soaked with blood — her blood. One need, one goal, pulsated through me, and I carefully, tenderly, but quickly got her out of there. Her safety and that of the baby’s far outweighed my desire for revenge.

 

I carried her out of there. The fighting was slowing down some, but it hadn’t stopped. One bullet did hit me in the back, and I stumbled but didn’t fall. This Kevlar was shot — pun intended — but it was still holding up and absorbing the brunt of the impact and keeping me safe enough.

 

Once outside, I winced at the sight of so many of my men lying dead on the grass. I had to step over one man, and I recognized him as Vasilev’s cousin. He had been killed. A spark of pity overwhelmed me. He had been a coward, yes, but he had only thought of his family. He had wanted to live another day for them. I’m sorry.

 

But I couldn’t dawdle. I had to keep moving, and I made my way to my car. After I belted her in the backseat, I rushed to get behind the wheel. Right as I was turning off the street, the police with their sirens blaring rolled by, heading straight for Vasilev’s. I grinned with grim satisfaction. Mikhail Vasilev would never hurt Kelly, our child, or me ever again. Mikhail Vasilev would rot in jail forever. He didn’t have the money to pay for a high profiled defense attorney. Between the weapons charges and everything else he’d be charged with today on top of the charges I helped to make stick, there was no way he’d be leaving jail unless it was in a body bag.

 

Driving to the hospital was a blur. I drove as swiftly as I could, but also safely. My clothes clung to me, wet from sweat and Kelly’s blood. I warred with myself, wanting to race there but not wanting to jar Kelly, not wishing to cause her any more pain. She was crying softly, and I kept trying to reassure her she’d be all right, that everything would work out, but she never responded to me. I wasn’t sure she even heard me. I took turns as gently as I could and cursed every red light.

 

As soon as I parked, I hurried out of the car and carried her straight inside to the emergency department. The staff was amazing, moving Kelly to the front of the line. They took her back immediately, whisking her away, and I felt as if they took a part of me with her. They wouldn’t allow me to follow. My stature didn’t matter. My lying that I was her fiancé helped. She needed serious help, maybe even surgery, and there was nothing I could do other than to sit and think and wait and feel completely helpless.

 

I couldn’t bear to lose her. I didn’t want to lose the child either, and the thought that she might lose the baby was devastating. I still wanted and needed an heir, but I wanted Kelly just as much. This wasn’t about our deal anymore. This wasn’t about a deal of goods in exchange for money. This was about so much more than that. I didn’t just want to have a child. I wanted to have that child with Kelly. I didn’t just want an heir. I wanted the mother of my children — boy or girl or boys or girls — to be with Kelly. I wanted her period.

 

I wasn’t a religious man. A mob boss couldn’t be. But here I was, in the hospital waiting room, my head in my hands, praying. Hoping. Wishing. Willing. I hoped and prayed the doctors could help her, could save the baby, but even if they couldn’t, we could always try again later.

 

If Kelly would still have me. There was no doubt in my mind that her experience would change her. She had been introduced to the darkest part of my life. I wouldn’t blame her if it made her want to turn tail and run away.

 

But I sure hoped she wouldn’t.

 

I prayed she wouldn’t.

 

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