The Master (The Game Maker #2)(91)



Maybe. Since he’d kind of ended up being the love of my life and all.

Our relationship wasn’t pretty. The heavy lifting still needed to be done. But the foundation was there. “I really appreciate the makeup, Ms. Gillespie.”

“I had something else I wanted to talk to you about. Last week, there was a man looking for you. But he wasn’t from around here.”

I gasped out, “What did you tell him?”

“Though I knew this was your last class, I told him you’d be here when the spring term started.”

Next week. I still had time. “Why would you lie for me?”

“I didn’t like the looks of him. It’s none of my business, but he seemed . . . unwell.”

Deranged. “Th-thank you so much, Ms. Gillespie.”

I was crying before I made it down the hall. Edward had already been called down upon me. Ready to break every rule and swallow all my pride, I rang Sevastyan. “Ruso?”

“Katya, what’s wrong?”

I hurried down the stairs. “I need”—my voice broke on a sob—“help.”

“Anything. Name anything.”

“I-I’m in trouble.” When I reached the quad, I spotted him in the distance.

He’d already started across the street to come for me. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.” The skies opened up even more and rain poured. Winds gusted, palm fronds battering each other. Lightning jagged across the sky.

Comprehension struck with the intensity of the bolts above. He is in love with me. He’d said he wanted to protect me. If there were ever a time I would need him to . . . “The dream I had on the plane was a—”

An arm snaked around me. Searing pain exploded.

I stared down in horror. At the blade jutting from my chest.

Blackness.





CHAPTER 37




A guttural bellow woke me. Sevastyan’s? My eyes crept open.

Edward had stabbed me. He’d actually done it.

I lay on the ground. The bastard had my head in his lap, his pale, haggard face above me. The knife hilt was rising and falling with my wheezing breaths. The pain . . . every inhalation was a new anguish. My fingers clawed at the grass, my legs uncontrollably writhing. Dots swarmed my vision.

I didn’t want to die by his hand. I wanted out of his repulsive arms—

He tore the knife from my chest; I needed to scream, but I couldn’t.

The ugly sounds were now mine.

“And who are those men, wife?” Edward put the knife to my throat, but he wasn’t looking at me. His crazed eyes were focused on Sevastyan as he ran for me, Vasili in the distance behind him, gun raised.

“Stop where you are,” Edward yelled over the rain, pressing the knife harder.

Máxim and Vasili went motionless.

“Your man needs to drop his gun,” Edward called. “Then you both back away. Or I’ll show you my wife’s throat from the inside.”

If Sevastyan was shocked to hear him call me wife, he didn’t reveal it. He’d probably put so much together. “Release—her—now.” He looked lethal, his big body tensed to attack. Rage blazed from him, his eyes filled with it. His wet hair whipped over his face in the wind, his fists clenched.

Edward had no idea who he was dealing with. “This doesn’t concern you, stranger.”

Máxim told Vasili something in Russian. Vasili put his gun down, backing from it by a step.

Never looking away from Sevastyan, Edward told me, “I didn’t expect you to make friends, Ana-Lucía. You never did before, not in any of the six cities you hid from me. It would’ve made finding you so much easier. Not that I would ever have stopped. I will get revenge for Julia, and I’m prepared to die for it.”

He’d been to all the places I’d lived? Between wet coughs, I bit out, “H-how?”

“I overheard your vow to your mother to finish your degree. For three years, I spent your money to comb every school in the country. You used family names—your first and only mistake.” His chin and jaw were slack between words. “I hunted you here. When I suspected your bitch of a teacher was lying for you, I knew I had you trapped.”

Máxim grated, “Get the f*ck away from her, Edward. This is my last warning.”

“You almost won, Ana-Lucía. You almost got the best of me. For someone like you to rob me of Julia . . . it seethes inside me every second of every day. Because of you, I had to bury her like trash in some fetid marsh—”

Máxim told Vasili something else in Russian, then started forward.

Edward jerked his head up. “What are you doing, stranger? I’ll kill her if you come closer!”

Máxim kept coming, six foot four inches of towering, enraged Russian. “She’ll bleed out if I don’t.”

“I didn’t expect her to have friends, but I wasn’t unprepared.” Edward dropped the knife, pulling a gun from a holster under his coat. “Now you and the other man leave us, or I will shoot you down.”

He was going to kill Máxim! “Don’t.” There was nothing I could do to stop him! Frustration welled inside me.

Máxim was fearless. “I know gunmen. You’re not one.”

Edward cocked his weapon. “I will shoot!” This close, he couldn’t miss.

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