Sordid (Sordid 1)

Oxygen was leaking from the room, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Luka stared at Ivan, and it looked like he was barely holding back his rage. Beyond him, Vasilije watched the scene with fascination and a sick gleam. And then my gaze returned to meet Dimitrije’s. His bloodstained shirt was scary, but his black eyes were horrifying.

“You want a gun?” I wasn’t sure who Vasilije was talking to at first, but it became apparent it was me.

Did I?

I peered at the battered man on the floor and a voice inside me answered back yes. My family had died a horrible death, and Ivan’s life for theirs didn’t even balance. Warm, sickly rage roiled in my belly and rose in my throat. What would I feel like with a gun in my hand? How powerful had I become now I’d been given the choice about this man’s fate?

Luka’s hand let go of mine, but it was so he could wrap it around my waist and pull me tightly against him, offering his support. Telling me he was okay with whatever I decided.

The blackest, evilest part of me wanted Ivan dead, but . . . I couldn’t.

I was going to be a doctor and save lives. How could I go on to do that if I committed this dark deed? The rest of my life I’d be atoning for it.

“No,” I whispered.

Vasilije’s gaze crept to Luka. “What about you?”

Since I was clinging to him, I could feel the tension and fury in his body, all the way to his foundation.

“No,” I said again, this time louder. I gazed up at Luka, hoping he could read everything I was feeling, because I couldn’t find the words. He hadn’t crossed the line into total darkness yet and I didn’t want him to. If he did this, he might never come back. I’d already lost everything. Please, I silently pleaded, don’t make me lose you, too.

His expression didn’t change, yet I could sense he understood. “No,” he said, affirming what I wanted.

Vasilije stared at us like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Finally, he sighed loudly and glanced back to his father. “You want to finish with the bat? It’s making a big fucking mess.”

“Please.” I tried not to whimper, and failed. “I can’t . . . Don’t do this. If you send him back to his people, what happens?” Could Ivan tell them about the bomb and avoid the war he promised was coming?

Dimitrije’s cold stare said there was no chance of this man leaving the basement alive. Perhaps Dimitrije was eager to go to battle with his enemies. I stood paralyzed as he reached over and curled his fingers around the grip of the bat. My heart pounded in my chest and threatened to explode as he stalked toward Ivan, dragging the weapon noisily across the ground, his eyes brimming with violence. Oh, God. Oh, God!

Luka yanked me, shoving me face first into his chest, hiding my eyes from what was about to happen as his arms locked around me. He held on tightly as the sound of the bat whooshed through the air, followed by a disgusting thump and crunch of bones.

The gurgling announced the blow wasn’t fatal.

I balled my hands in Luka’s shirt as I shook violently, barely able to stand. I sank as deep into his arms as possible, wanting to retreat inside him when another blow rang out. This one had more force to it from the sound of metal striking something more solid than just body alone.

The gurgling stopped.

For a long moment, it was silent in the basement, other than the water heater humming in the background. Luka had watched it happen, and some of the tension eased from him, but what the hell did we do now?

“Luka.” Dimitrije’s tone was full of disappointment. “You’ll stand by and let it happen, but you can’t do it yourself?”

Luka’s chest lifted in a deep breath. “Turns out, I’m a lot like you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The metal bat was tossed down, where it clattered and rolled loudly on the floor, making me flinch. “Did you have your goddamn eyes shut?”

“I’m talking about my mother.”

I shifted in Luka’s arms and made sure to keep my gaze up off of the floor, not wanting to see the result of his father’s work.

Dimitrije didn’t appear quite as distinguished when he looked guilty. His voice was grim. “That was different.”

“What?” Vasilije took a step closer, and his confused gaze went from Luka to his father.

There was a wordless exchange between the two older Markovics. Dimitrije’s expression softened with the realization Luka knew what had really happened the night of the storm so many years ago.

“Your mother threatened to go to the authorities. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

Luka’s shoulders pulled back. “Not anything you could do? How about not screwing the whore in your own bed? You wanted to get caught.”