Page 28 of Maksim
When I swing, I slice nothing but air because Daniel easily evades me. He uses my loss of momentum to kick me in the stomach, sending air rushing from my lungs and bile up my throat.
Before my body can collapse, he takes me by my neck and shoves me against the wall, squeezing my throat in a deathly, two-handed grip while his eyes swirl with the most insidious thing… Pleasure.
The woman appears again, but this time the police don’t seem to be on her mind, and she doesn’t step in to help me. She stands off to the side and meets my eyes, looking uncertain and cowardly, running her nails over her arms out of nervousness. She’ll stand there and let him kill me if I give him the chance.
I scratch at Daniel’s hands and try to kick him off me, my brain running on pure survival instincts, and I can tell he thinks that he’s won.
He laughs at my attempts just before leaning in to lick along my cheek, like he wants to taste all the tears that I’ve cried for him.
I hate him. But right now, I feel more sorrow than hatred, and more desperation. I feel like my heart was broken before, but now it’s shattered, and he’s putting the scraps through a food processor. He wants me destroyed, and I can’t say he hasn’t accomplished that.
He thinks he’s won, but there’s a vengeful side of me he never got to know. I lost, but I was never going to let him win. If I must lose, he must lose with me.
He thinks he’s going to walk out of this the victor, but I know something he doesn’t.
I know about the other knife.
9
MAKSIM
My fist pounds on the red door with more anxiousness than I can remember feeling. There are a handful of men combing the streets of Las Vegas, all friends who’ve agreed to keep the search of the ballsy escapee under the radar for now, but I know in my gut that they’ll all come up short.
Elira is here. If not here, then she’s lying in a ditch somewhere after the trafficking organization no doubt killed her. With any luck, that’s what happened because if I find her alive, she’ll wish she were dead.
I pound my fist again, my jaw clenching to the point of pain. For all I know, nobody is home. The number I tracked down for Daniel Storm hasn’t answered in hours, so it’s possible he doesn’t even have his phone. He could be overseas.
Then where would she go?
Anger at myself overflows as I reach behind me intent on pulling out my gun to blow the lock off the door, but something from the corner of my eye—along with reason—stops me.
I turn and let my hand fall at my side as a middle-aged brunette walks up in khaki pants and a blue, striped sweater. She wears a wide-brimmed hat even though the sun isn’t overhead enough to burn her white, middle-class flesh. A pair of gardening shears hangs from her hand.
“Excuse me,” she says, strutting up with confidence that reeks of believed invincibility. “Can I help you?”
I nod to the house. “Do you live here?”
She narrows her eyes like she thinks I’m a burglar who walked right up to the front door. “Well, no, but I’m a good friend of the Storms.”
Good for you.
My instinct is to tell her to fuck off, but I resist. I could use her help.
“Storms?” I frown. “He’s married?”
She shifts the shears to her other hand. “You’re looking for Daniel?”
“I’m looking for my sister. She was out with, uh…” I crook my thumb at the door, “him, but she never came home last night. The location sharing app we have says she’s here.”
The woman’s eyes widen to saucers, but the horror she tries to plaster on her face is too drowned out by excitement. She can’t wait to tell the girls about this.
“Oh my.” The woman presses a hand to her heart. “I knew Henrietta went away to see her mother, but I never would’ve thought Daniel…” She shakes her head and sighs. “But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. A man with a wife as devoted as Henrietta would never fully be able to appreciate her. Life is funny that way, isn’t?—”
“Yeah, I’m just here to get my sister.” I turn to the door and pound but turn back to the woman a moment later, trying to look exasperated. “Have you seen him lately? Is it possible he could’ve left her alone? I know my sister is in there. The app says so.”
She peers up at the windows. “Maybe they’re still asleep.”
“Could you just please?—”