Gavriil (Stepanov Mafia)

“You’re delusional,” I said just as I flipped the switches.

The lights in the main warehouse flickered to life followed by the lights in the hallway behind me. I heard something tip over in the office, probably Devin jolting to attention and knocking over his chair when he realized I’d just taken away his advantage.

“Think what you want, but Samantha is on a plane right now. We are going to start over in a new country, far from you and our miserable lives here. You’ll never find us.”

“Her life was only miserable because of you.”

“You made her miserable!” he shouted. “You imprisoned her!”

“She could have left whenever she wanted,” I countered.

And it was true. Shortly after her arrival, I’d told my guards not to stop her if she tried to leave. If she was truly desperate to escape, I didn’t want her to be forced to stay with me. It was a business deal, but I didn’t have any desire to keep an unwilling sex slave.

Devin went quiet, and I knew he was planning his next move. I decided to hang back and stay where I was, hugging the outside wall of the office, gun trained on the door. Except, I couldn’t shoot and kill Devin. I needed him to find Samantha. I looked around and found a spare office chair on wheels in the corner behind me. A stack of dumbbells was precariously perched on the faded cushion.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, I wheeled the chair in front of me and crouched down behind it. I couldn’t shoot Devin, but I needed to incapacitate him. I needed to get his gun away from him so I could beat the truth out of him. He was stupid, but even he had to have some kind of self-preservation instinct. If he thought I’d kill him, surely, he’d give up his sister’s location.

Just as I expected, Devin had been orchestrating his attack, and just as I’d hoped, it was incredibly easy to undermine. I heard him running towards the door before he crossed the threshold, so I shoved the weighted down chair forward with all of my strength. It shot across the floor with a metallic whine, and I prayed the wheels were greased enough for it to make it to the door frame.

Devin slid through the door, his wild, bloodshot eyes searching for me. But just before he turned and saw me crouched down against the wall to his left, the office chair crashed into his knees, and the pyramid of dumbbells sitting on it tipped forward. One of them landed on his foot, the others clattered against his shins, and he cried out once in pain before falling over from the force of the collision.

I didn’t hesitate. As soon as the chair made contact, I bolted up and sprinted towards him. He saw me when I was mid-air and scrambled to grab his gun where it lay next to him, but I grabbed his arms before he could. A struggle ensued, Devin trying to free himself so he could grab his weapon, me trying to pin him down so I could toss his gun away. It would have been a lot easier if I’d just wanted to kill him, but the son of a bitch had information I needed.

He flailed his legs and threw his head forward, trying to slam his skull into my nose, but I dodged him and planted my knee in his groin. He groaned, his entire body curling inwards before lying flat, his face pale, chest heaving.

I released his arm just long enough to slide his gun across the floor. Then, I held his arms against the painted concrete floor and got in his face. “Where is Samantha?”

“I told you. She’s gone. Never to be seen again.”

I spat on him. “Tell me where she is, and I won’t kill you.”

“Liar,” he said, a maniacal smile spreading across his face. “You’ll kill me either way, and we both know it. So, I might as well have my fun.”

He had a fair point. Devin wasn’t getting out of this scrape alive. Still, I could have my fun, too. I cocked my arm back and brought my fist down hard. Devin’s head snapped to the side, and I felt a vibration up my arm as if I had hit a metal mailbox with an aluminum bat. A split opened up across his cheek, and he cursed.

“Then just tell me where she is,” I said, lifting my arm again in a warning.

Devin looked up at me, pure malice in his eyes. “Fuck you.”

I brought my fist down again. Pain burst across my knuckles, but it was worth it. I’d let my men take care of his beating before, but now it was my turn. Sam had told me about her brother, how he left her to take care of everything and could never stay out of trouble. He did nothing but make her life difficult, and as soon as something good came to her, he wanted to take it away.