The Bratva's Bride (Wicked Doms 2)

Tonight.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Larissa,” he tells me. I’m standing outside the back door of the dilapidated apartment building where I rent a room, biting my nail until I feel pain and taste blood. I don’t really hear him, for I’m already formulating a plan.

I could somehow get her out and hide her… but if they found us, we’d both be dead.

If I could somehow get her to America…

But they won’t stop looking for her. They won’t stop until she’s dead. However, if they think they have her…

I could take her place.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

It will take everything I have, but I need to save her.

She’s all I’ve got left.

“Listen. I know she’s your sister, but she did this, not you—“

I hang up on him.

“Goodbye, Glen,” I whisper to the dead receiver. “You were a good friend.”

I hope their justice is swift and painless.It’s darker than I expected in here and I’m afraid that shining my flashlight beam like a beacon, when I need to avoid notice, will draw the alarm of the guards. I think my plan is solid, but still, nothing quite goes as planned and I’ve come to sort of expect the unexpected. I have to.

I’ve called in favors and now my plan is in place.

They’ll take Calina. Bring her to a safehouse. See to her needs.

I’ve got enough money saved to take care of her for a few months. And when the money is gone…

I shake my head. Something will have to be done.

The door to the supply closet I’ve been hiding in since visiting hours ended two hours ago shuts with an audible click, and I freeze. I’ve disabled the lock, so I’m not shut in. Still, I need to remain hidden. I disabled security cameras, but the risk of getting caught is high, and if we get caught… if Calina stays here tonight… her life is forfeit. This much I know.

No one moves, and it seems deadly quiet here for one minute. Way down the hall, so far it’s barely audible, someone screams. The noise freezes me in place. Hushed voices respond to the scream, and I realize that it’s just a patient, and the nurses are with him now.

God, this place smells terrible, like hopelessness and soiled clothes and desperation. My stomach churns with nausea, and I don’t know if it’s the stench, or the knowledge of what I’m about to do. I’ve put this plan into action without a second thought and took sleeping pills every night leading to this one to shut my brain off from the endless rounds of what if. I’ve been awake now for twenty-four hours, though, fueled with adrenaline.

It doesn’t matter what happens next. My course is clear. I will save Calina.

I hope my death is mercifully painless.

I swallow hard and focus on what I need to do. The syringe feels heavy in my pocket, like lead, as if the weight of what I must do next is physically weighing me down.

I walk as slowly as I can, the soft-soled shoes I wear specifically chosen to be noiseless. I’ve tried to prepare for what comes next, but how does one really prepare for certain death?

I’m wearing my glasses, because contacts are too easily lost.

My money’s been secretly funneled to Glen, who’ll be seeing to Calina’s wellbeing in the future. It’ll make things easier in the long run. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. This is my chance to be the heroine. Only no one but me… and the few people I’ve worked with… will ever know. Including Calina.

There’s a huge, circular clock with a white face and vivid black numbers looming in the hallway. Jesus. What kind of a moron puts a clock like that in the middle of a psych ward? It’s weird enough to freak anyone out and give them nightmares. I wonder sometimes if being in a place like this is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Like, even if I wasn’t crazy, would I become crazy being in a place like this with huge clocks and random people screaming and bars on certain windows and doors. Would it actually cause me to slowly go insane?

I stand in front of Calina’s room and close my eyes, then glance at the clock once more. My pulse quickens and my palms dampen. I don’t want to do this. God, I don’t want to do this. But I’m the one to blame for this, and I have to take make this right.

If I take her and hide her, they’ll find her. And hell, it’s my fault because I’ve taught her everything she knows.

I open her door and step in quickly, then slide the lock in place. You can’t typically lock a room in a pysch ward from the inside, but I’m prepared.

Thankfully, she stays asleep and doesn’t budge when the door clicks shut. My breath comes ragged and feels like I’m sucking air through a straw. I glance out the window and give a nod. Glen’s team’s in place. It sucks she’s on this floor since it makes things trickier, but we’ll have to make it work.