Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(113)

Words couldn’t describe the way he felt at the thought of his blood spilling onto the dirty cement floor beneath him. He longed for that freedom.

He longed for this to finally be over.

Alex’s smiling face flashed in his mind, just a fleeting moment, one of doubt for what he was about to do.

But what could he offer her here?

She could have so much more without him in her life. Even if by some chance he did get free of this place, Mishca would never accept them together, not now, not after the truth had been revealed. He would never force her to choose between them because he knew she would choose him and he would want her to choose her brother.

This was the easy way out, Luka realized as he pressed the glass to his skin. For everybody.

He applied pressure. Just enough that the sharp bite of pain made him blink, looking to his own arm where blood was welling.

He could do this.

He could do this.

He could do this.

But the moment he’d readied to pull his weapon along his skin was the same moment he heard muffled gunshots. There was no reason for Fatos to be shooting at one of his own men, which could only mean that someone was here…an enemy who Luka didn’t know about.

The Albanian Syndicate had plenty of enemies of their own without factoring in the Bratva, probably more since Luka had left this place. It was one thing to be tortured by people he knew, he could at least account for what they were going to do to him, but something else to face an unknown threat.

Luka couldn’t go through this again.

Gripping the glass harder, he’d resolved himself to the decision he made. Just a second away from ending this, the door was kicked open and an assault rifle was the first thing his eyes focused on besides the light pouring in.

He knew, even with the mask, that he was looking at Klaus. Who the other person was coming in behind him was still a mystery.

Luka didn’t release his hold on his weapon, not even when Klaus shoved the mask up, revealing his face. He should have felt relief at seeing him there, but the only thing he felt was confusion. He didn’t know if what he was seeing was reality or if this was all just a dream. But if this were the latter and there were no consequences to what he was going to do, he would accept it happily.

Maybe he had passed out or else was suffering under an intense delusion because there was no other way that Klaus could be here.

“He’s gone ‘round the bend then?” A man, the one he didn’t recognize, was standing over him with a machine gun in hand.

“I got him, Payne. Just make sure the others are dead.”

The Englishman looked at Klaus, shrugging once before heading off. Klaus took a hesitant step forward, and instead of his usual arrogance, he looked thoughtful. He crouched in front of him, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands clasped together in front of him. It was the most vulnerable he had ever allowed himself to be, especially around Luka.

“I think I’m dying,” Luka whispered brokenly, the sound of his own voice sounding foreign to him. “I didn’t think you would be the last person I see before I go, though.” He looked away. “Do I need your forgiveness before I finally stop breathing? Would you even offer it?”

Klaus shook his head, reaching a hand out for Luka’s, his hold firm. He didn’t understand why at first or even how his touch felt so real.

“This is real,” he said quietly. “I’m here, right now. But I need you to put this down so I can help you,” he said with a nod of his head to the glass that Luka was gripping so tightly, his hand was bleeding.

Luka, who was realizing this wasn’t a delusion, let his hand fall open, watching the glass clatter to the floor.

He looked up at Klaus with haunted eyes and asked the only question he could. “I’m not dead.”

“Not today,” he answered as he withdrew a handgun from a holster at his back, shooting at the chain that bound Luka to the wall.

Dragging his arm over his shoulders, Klaus helped him to his feet, supporting most of his weight since he could barely stand. He made a concentrated effort to walk on his own, but whenever his step faltered, Klaus was there, wordlessly righting him.

Luka was good at pretending. Pretending that everything was okay now. Pretending that he wasn’t stepping over multiple bodies as Klaus walked him out of his own personal hell.

They ventured out the front door of the house, sunshine making Luka’s pupils contract painfully. He didn’t know where they were going, and he didn’t care, as long as it was far away from here.

“You got the package?”

Luka forced his head up at the voice, looking at a girl who was a small thing but looked like she could handle herself pretty well since she was armed like the rest of them. Had Klaus gotten his team to break him out?

If Klaus gave a response to her question, Luka didn’t hear it.

“Celt’s waiting for you with the other one.”

Other one?

Was there another person Fatos had kept here as a prisoner? It would make sense since he enjoyed hurting others, but Luka didn’t think he had heard anyone else’s screams but his own.

The girl, whatever her name was, swooped down beneath Luka’s other arm, helping them move faster across the lot.

Laughing humorlessly though his ribs ached, Luka said, “Sorry, I’m spoken for.”

“I just bet you are,” she responded wryly, her Spanish accent warm and friendly.