Moving Target (Target #3)(25)

“Holy crap. That was awesome.” While I want bad guys to get their due, I’ll just pretend that they’re hurt badly but will recover.

Dima grins at me, then winks. “All in a day’s work.” His smile falls. “Shit. Behind you.”

I turn around, spin the wheel, and narrowly avoid hitting a fisherman’s boat. My heart stops beating and starts up again.

“Take care of the others guys. Quickly.”

“My pleasure.” Then he takes aim once more.





14





Dmitry



We arrive at the island physically unscathed, but I am more than a little concerned about Chloe. Only someone who has been trained or lived this life can withstand the constant pressure of flight and witnessing murder.

I can’t call it anything but that. Never mind that it’s all been in self-defense.

Dropping anchor, I help Chloe out of the boat. “It’s just us. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No.” She exhales. “I need a shower. Food. Sleep. Running away from danger is hard on the body.”

I glance at her, taking note of her nipples, which can be clearly seen through her damp tank top. They’re slightly puckered, but only an asshole would assume it’s because she’s in need of a good fucking to calm down or feel better.

Although, a good fucking would make me feel better.

“You shower. I will wash up and cook for us both.”

“Gentleman assassin, huh?” She bumps me with a curvy hip. “I like that.”

I lead her inside, taking her directly to the bathroom, and show her where everything is. As soon as I leave the room, I stop just outside and wait.

Not even a minute later, I hear it. The rough, ugly sobs of a woman who’s at the end of her rope. I’m torn between giving her privacy or comforting her.

Another sob tears through her, echoing, and my heart pinches hard.

“Fuck it.” I stride into the bathroom. Stripping off my clothes, I step inside the cavernous shower with her. There is enough room for a ten people, but I only need her.

I find her in the corner, sitting in the floor. I purposefully make my steps loud, and she looks up at me. The devastation on her face is my undoing.

“Dushka, I’m sorry.” Joining her on the warm tile floor, I take her in my arms. “So sorry. You were not meant for this life. But I will do everything in my power to save you, to return you to your home.”

She turns to me, her entire body trembling from head to toe. “I won’t ever be the same, will I?”

I could lie to her, make her feel better in the short term, but long term… I’m not doing her any favors, and I’m expecting nightmares at any time. “No.”

Nodding, she starts crying again. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“However, you are strong. Capable.” I lean against the wall, stroking her hair as hot water rain downs on us.

“I don’t feel strong or capable. I want to crawl into a hole and hide.”

“That is natural. There is nothing wrong with wanting to live.” Staring at nothing, I begin to talk about all the things I’ve never shared with another person before. “The first time I killed a man, I was seventeen. My mentor said I was getting too studious and that I should learn to do what would be expected of me.”

“Were you scared?”

“Terrified. I didn’t want to disappoint my mentor, yet I knew nothing of this man I was to kill. Did he deserve it? Did he have a family? Would they miss him?” I rub the bridge of my nose with my free hand. “These questions were what made me different. For a long time, the Bratva only wanted soldiers. Men who could easily follow orders without questioning. Men who were easy to incite and had little room for emotions. But I… and my cousin Benjamin, we weren’t like that.

“I can’t speak for him, only for myself, but things started to change. Konstantin initiated it and now, I can see why. His KGB training taught him that. One cannot take a country down by brute force anymore. At least not the countries that rule the world. You have to work from the inside, be placed in positions of power—make new laws, new rules… break down society from the inside. Take their culture and change it. Turn citizen against citizen.

“But slowly. Very, very slowly.”

“Like boiling a frog in a pot,” Chloe says. “He’ll jump in the water, but if you’ll warm it up just a little bit at a time, he won’t leave. By the time he needs to leave, he’s already dead.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you topple a country?”

“Not directly.”

“You don’t sound proud of yourself.”

I shrug. “I’m neither proud nor ashamed. I did my job. I earned my keep.”

“I think that’s a lie,” she says, bringing me up short. “You said that the men they used to have had little room for emotions, so things changed when you and your cousin got older. You cared about the man you were supposed to kill. That says a lot about you.”

She wants to make me a hero, when I am no better than any villain. “What does it say about me that I did it anyway?”

Her grey eyes gaze into mine. “That you had no choice.”

“I was seventeen. Old enough to know better.”