That hit Sergei in the chest. He’d craved peace even more than he’d craved vengeance, and to be able to grant that to Dom would mean he could sleep at night. But not like this.
“What if we fake our deaths?” His mouth had gone dry. “A burned out car in the ocean, it’ll—”
“No.” Dom shook his head. “We both know no one will believe I’m dead without a body.”
Sergei chewed his lip. He couldn’t argue with that. “And if we run? We have money. We—”
Dom shook his head.
Sergei squeezed his eyes shut. Dom was right. There was no way around it.
Shoulders sinking beneath Dom’s gentle hands, Sergei exhaled and met his gaze. “I don’t know what else to do.”
Dom pulled in a breath and stood a little straighter. “We shouldn’t do it here. The cops… they’ll…”
Sergei winced. “Are we really…”
“What else do you suggest?”
He flinched.
“There are places all over this area,” Dom said. “The woods. The beach.” Dom half-shrugged. “I don’t care where they find me as long as they don’t find you.”
“You’re…” Sergei struggled against a wave of nausea. “How the hell can you be so casual about where I’m supposed to kill you and leave your body?”
“Because the alternative is letting you get killed,” Dom shot back.
“Fine,” Sergei snapped. “But I’m not—”
“Do you hear yourself? This is out of our hands, Sergei. All we can do is damage control.”
“And damage control is me killing you?”
“Yes!” Dom threw up his hands. “It’s either that or—”
“I know what the fucking alternatives are!”
“Then what else do you suggest, because I’m out of ideas.”
Sergei swallowed, wondering when that lump had started rising in his throat. He didn’t have any more ideas either. Because there weren’t any. The unwritten laws of this town were evil and cruel, but they bent for no man.
“What if we kill Felice?” he asked. “You’re the boss, for God’s sake. Put a hit out—”
“And how many of Felice’s goons know you’re contracted to kill me?” Dom shook his head. “Anyone lays a hand on him while I’m still alive, they’ll know damn well you turned.”
Sergei’s skin crawled. Dom had a point.
What the fuck was he supposed to do now? His plan hadn’t included this. Dom wasn’t supposed to inherit his uncle’s position. Felice wasn’t supposed to contract Sergei to kill Dom. Even if Dom had and Felice had, Sergei wasn’t supposed to care about Dom. He wasn’t supposed to be too in love to pull the fucking trigger.
But they had. And he was. And here they were.
And if Sergei didn’t kill Dom, someone else would. Brutally. Mercilessly.
Slumping against the counter, he whispered, “You’re right. We can’t do this here.”
Dom exhaled. “I know a few places.”
“Me too.” Sergei ran a hand through his hair. Then he brushed past Dom. “I’ll get my keys.”
*
They ditched Dom’s car in a lot near the edge of town. Then he joined Sergei, and neither of them spoke as Sergei followed that familiar highway into the thickly forested hills.
As he drove. Sergei tried not to think about whether he regretted that they hadn’t taken the time to go to bed once more. Now that the truth was out, and they both knew what had to happen, he just… couldn’t.
And the hit… It didn’t even have to happen today—his contacts all knew big hits took planning. He had time. But making this go on longer benefitted no one.
So Sergei drove. And didn’t look at Dom. And tried not to notice the outline of the pistol pressing into his leg.
A few miles past the mile marker where he’d met Katashi last time, Sergei pulled over. Wordlessly, they got out of the car, and Dom followed Sergei into the woods. As they picked their way through the underbrush, Sergei caught himself hoping this was an ambush. That Dom was waiting for the right opportunity to pull out a gun of his own and drop him.
But he didn’t. Damn him.
At a clearing, Sergei stopped. “This… this should be far enough from the road. No one will hear anything.”
Dom pulled in a long breath through his nose. “Just don’t make me dig my own grave.”
“That’s not funny.”
Dom faced him, his expression completely serious. “I’m not joking.”
Sergei raised his eyebrows. “I… wouldn’t. No way.”
“Thank you.”
Though he knew he was only making it worse for both of them, Sergei wrapped his arms around Dom. “I’m sorry. I wish there was another way.”
“Me too.”
Sergei cupped his face and kissed him, and held him tight. When they separated, they held each other’s gazes for a few seconds, and then pulled apart completely.
Here we go. This is it.
Sergei slid the pistol out of the holster.
Dom gulped. “Just promise me you’ll leave after this.” He eyed the gun, and then met Sergei’s gaze. “Get the fuck out of Cape Swan and never look back.”
Sergei nodded, nausea rising in his throat. “I promise.” He glanced at his pistol. “I… I’ve never done this with someone who’s…”
“Not fighting?”
“Yeah. That.”