Madness (Revenge Series Book 3) (7 page)

In the end, I will have him in handcuffs because that is what I
need
to do. That will be my final mission as I follow him on this journey of murder. If I want to assume my old life after Stravinsky is dead, then I need to remember that.

.*.*.*.

August 15, 2015 4:08 p.m
.

The pain is immense.

If I pull myself in a tight ball on the floor, it’s still there. The pain feels like I am burning from the inside out. My skin is slick from the warm shower, but the burning is scorching compared to the temperature of the water. I want the icy, bloodless numbing to return.

I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper to the air, “Take me away. Please, just take me away.”

I want the dark curtain to cloak me again. I don’t want to see. I don’t want to feel the pain and weight and screams and dying. I just want it to be taken away.

The heaviness of his body holds me down. My limbs won’t work. His hands are bricks on my shoulders. Every breath I inhale, his salty smell surrounds me. I need to wash. I must get it off my skin, but the weight is too much, pinning my arms to my sides.

“Josslyn.”

My eyes snap open as reality floats back in.

Nikolai’s eyes are wide with alarm. “You were dreaming.”

I pull my feet from the seat across from me and wrap my arms around my frame. I am covered in a sheen of sweat and can feel how ridiculous this must look to someone like Nikolai.

I get up from the seat and walk to the small bathroom located at the rear of the plane. When the door closes, I shake my head, trying to stop the visions from that night.

They still haunt me. The days following the attack were just as brutal as the event itself. I had to live with the pain Boris inflicted on my body, but it’s the screams and the weight of it all that continues to stay with me.

The water is ice cold when I cup my hands under the faucet and pool the liquid in them. It feels refreshing across my cheeks, washing away the burning heat and thrusting the images back behind the locked door where I store them.

As the visions wash down with the water, I wonder if I will always feel the excruciating pain from that night. Will I continue to be awakened by the horrors and screams, only to be forced to tuck them away as I’ve done for all these years? Or will the journey to kill Stravinsky finally lay it all to rest?

C
HAPTER
T
EN

Nikolai

August 16, 2015 4:24 a.m.

T
he plane taxied to a stop thirty minutes ago. We arrived in Zurich right on time and with little turbulence.

As soon as she exited the plane, Josslyn grabbed her bag and my garment bag then went into the bathroom. She has spoken little to me this entire trip, and I am happy and annoyed at the same time. Although her incessant questions drive me crazy, it also bothers me that she isn’t worried about what is going to happen. Is she not prepared for what lies ahead? Or is this how she gets herself fully invested in a dangerous situation? Does she withdraw herself to think about the inevitable? Not being able to see inside her head is maddening to me. I am left wondering how she is coping with all this world of madness I have invited her into.

I was glad she slept during flight and wished I had slept more than a couple of hours. However, I find it hard to relax on an airplane. Besides, with my life hanging in the balance, I doubt I will sleep much until this is said and done. I am best as a jagged blade anyway.

Josslyn walks from the bathroom, unhooking my garment bag from her shoulder as she motions for a staff member to take it from her. Then she connects her sights on me.

The world around me stops as she strides toward me with the confidence of Amelia Night. Time halts. The constant bustling from the airline staff becomes nonexistent. Sound ceases.

Her shoulders are rolled back as she walks with the ease of a super model on a runway. Josslyn has transformed into a different woman. Gone is her tousled bun and street clothes. She has covered her taut body in a sleeveless black jumper. Her long, tan legs are exposed, showing how lean and fit she is. The four-inch heels from last night are fastened to her feet, giving her the perfect high-class look Amelia would have. She has tucked her golden hair in a tight bun behind her head. The fresh application of makeup lights up her face, and her lavender fragrance dances through the air.

The corner of my mouth turns up the closer she strides in my direction. She looks breathtaking. The desire to slam her up against a wall and fuck her is consuming all of my thoughts.

Swallowing down the unrelenting lust for her, I extend my elbow and nod my head, silently approving of her transformation. We walk from the hangar and out to a waiting car where I wave away the driver who is standing next to the back door, opening it for the goddess latched on to my arm.

Pulling the door open, I grab Josslyn’s hand and usher her in front of me. She leans in close, her chest grazing mine as she presses her lips to my cheek. Her clean, lavender scent infiltrates my senses as the warmth from our skin lights a fiery heat straight to my core.

“Thank you, Vincent,” she says as she pulls back and looks straight into my eyes.

She is finally understanding her role and how she needs to act in public, playing the part of the smart, classy woman I know she can be instead of drawing attention to ourselves.

She gives me a subtle wink then gets into the car.

“My pleasure, my dear,” I reply with a deep, almost breathless tone. I find my words surprisingly honest as they escape my lips. No acting required.

The one thing this woman continues to do is surprise me at every turn, whether it is good, horrible, or indifferent. If I were a lesser assassin, I would show her just how much she can shock me by forever assuming this character and continuing my life not as Nikolai Petrov, but Vincent Black.

I fall into the car, and then we move out of the parking lot toward our next destination. Dawn will be breaking soon, and the sun will shine on the horizon as we move from the peaceful community of Zurich and into the worst Russia can offer—Chechnya.

.*.*.*.

August 18, 2015 8:17 a.m.

We have been riding the train to Moscow for two days now, but in a few hours, we will finally reach our destination.

We had some time to kill before our train was to depart and Josslyn needed to finish securing items for her act. We went to a luggage store and purchased a wheeled carry-on suitcase and a small matching garment bag. Finally, I got her a briefcase of her own. But, instead of all the trinkets I hold in mine, hers is filled with fake documents and other business-related items.

Her identity is simple. She is a woman traveling to Moscow and Chechnya on business. She will wear her suit and present herself with the sophistication and intelligence of a smart, corporate woman. If anyone were to ask her what she does for a living, she will be a consultant for a world-renowned hotel chain. This is the identity we have been working on for the last two days, and I would say she has it down.

She has become very good at being someone she’s not, and if I didn’t know better, I would swear she’s really Amelia at times. However, when we are in the privacy of our secluded sleeper coach, we break character and go over the plan. Again and again, we recite the crucial details to ensure it will go off smoothly.

Going to Chechnya will be a dangerous mission. I have no problem blending in with my surroundings and adapting myself to dire situations, but this is where my skills as an underground killer will be tested. Josslyn will be my weak link.

The human trade in Chechnya is becoming a booming business, and many criminals are willing to kidnap and sell to the highest bidder. Her American heritage and drop-dead beauty will surely flag her if she is seen by the wrong people. I don’t think this has fully set in yet, but she will see it for herself when we pass the border.

Josslyn steps out of the tiny bathroom, dressed for the day, and sits on the bunk beside me. Her arm grazes mine as the railcar teeters slightly and jostles us to the right.

I turn my eyes to hers, logging them into memory as a sickening feeling hits my gut. So much is and will be happening in the not so distant future, and moments like this will cease to exist once we step off this train.

My nerves are starting to fray. I not only have to keep Josslyn and myself alive, but then I have to manage to convince Cubby to agree to meet with me. Normally, I would be amped up for this kind of assignment, but there is so much more at stake here. If she fails, we fail, and Stravinsky is gone. However, if we are pinned down and there is a choice between her and me, it will be my life I’m saving, not hers. That’s what I keep reminding myself—that she’s a mere pawn in all of this—yet the very notion riddles my conscience with immense guilt.

I clear my throat and look out straight ahead. I need to clear my mind of anything else and totally focus on what we are about to do.

I look over at her again and demand, “Go over the plan again.”

Josslyn pulls her feet up and sits cross-legged on the bunk. “When we exit the train in Moscow, I’m to get off ahead of you with my possessions and head to the street area to get a taxi.” She readjusts on the bunk. “Then I’m to go to the Four Season Hotel located near Red Square and secure a suite under my Amelia Night identification.”

“Good. Then what?”

“I sit in the room and wait for you to contact me.” She pulls her legs off the bunk and stands, looking down at me. “Something has been bothering me since you devised this plan.”

I look at her curiously, knowing she may have some valid points.

“Why aren’t we associating with each once we are in Moscow? You know, as a couple?”

“I’m known very well in these parts, and the
thieves
are everywhere. It all began here. We have to keep ourselves distant because, as far as they know, I solely handle business. If you’re with me, then the surprise of you being my accomplice will be no more.”

“But what if we’re separated and I need you or you need me?” She presses her fingernails into her sides, trying to understand my plan. “How are we going to communicate? I can’t just walk blindly, expecting you to be right behind me.”

“Why not?” I question, standing from the bunk. “I’ve been covering you since we started this journey. You don’t go anywhere without being watched by me somehow or in some way. And when we move deeper into the city and eventually in Chechnya, I won’t have the resources I did in America.” I expel a deep, frustrated breath. “It will only be me.”

“Yeah, but what if you get held up or, God forbid, worse. How am I to know that?”

“You’re not. All you can do is trust that I will find you. It’s been my job for the past fifteen years to hunt down people, and I’m good at it. The only difference is this time I won’t be killing. I will be protecting.”

Never once has my mission ever been to stalk and protect. I have only ever watched and killed, so I find this kind of curious and ironic. Yet, as the unknown thoughts begin to filter through my brain, I shut them down and tap into my familiar, cold self.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

Josslyn

August 18, 2015 7:47 p.m.

I
stand in the small cabin car, dressed in my gray business suit, and fall into the Amelia Night persona. When you look at me on the outside, I am confident and sophisticated. However, if you had a glimpse into my mind, you would see I am freaking the fuck out.

I’m still trying to get my brain wrapped around the fact that I signed up for this. I convinced myself in the Macy’s bathroom that I can handle the blood and killing, the looming danger around every corner. Yet now, the time is finally here for me to face the fire of my decision, and I’m wondering if I made the wrong choice. My gut is telling me I will never make it out of Chechnya intact. Something will get left behind. Whether it be my corpse or the remaining fragments of my soul, something will be gone.

I can feel Nikolai’s warm breath on my back as we wait for the train to lull to a stop in the city of Moscow. We have gone over the plan for what feels like a million times, but now the time is upon us, and my brain is scrambling for the details.

I roll my shoulders back, trying to assume the role as much as possible. Nikolai runs his hand down my back, obviously sensing my worry.

When I turn around, I’m facing the man I’m supposed to trust. This is the man, who only days ago, tried to kill me for getting in his way. The man I allowed to infect my thoughts with revenge and lust. This is the man who holds my life in his hands.

His eyes are as cold and hard as steel, and the tension is set along his razor cut jaw. He has fully transformed into the man he should be. This is who I need to be. I need to morph into a stone cold killer. I have to clear my thoughts of the doubt and fully immerse myself into the danger that lies ahead.

I take a moment to absorb his aura, allowing it to invade my own wavering emotions. I swallow down the anxiety and transform just as he does. I roll my shoulders back and shed the notions of what could have been. I expel a deep breath and fully become what he is. This is the decision I made, and this is the life I will live until it is all said and done.

Nikolai steps even closer to me. He doesn’t touch me, but the heat from his body lassos around my frame. I keep my sights attached to his. After a minute of staring at each other, he finally speaks.

“I will be right behind you.”