#Prettyboy Must Die

I don’t quite believe he’s “got this,” but I have to leave him with the hacker. Katie is waiting for me.

When I reach the office, so out of breath my chest hurts, Officer Andrews is holding Katie by one arm, or more like holding her up. Her beautiful face is already bruised and swollen, her bottom lip cut and bleeding, no doubt from the fist Marchuk landed on it. He’s sitting at Jonesy’s desk, feet propped up on it, looking like he rules the world.

“Here is Prettyboy, with only seven seconds to spare. You cut it close. Perhaps Marchuk was wrong and you don’t care for girl as much as I was told.”

I want so much to feel my hands around his neck that I have to keep myself from charging into the room before I’ve assessed every threat it holds.

“What kind of man hits a defenseless woman? Your father would be so proud. If he were still alive, I mean.” I know those are fighting words, but I want nothing more right now than to reunite him with Marchuk Sr.

“So, girl is important to you. Good. You will make less trouble for us this way, I am certain.”

“Let her go, Marchuk. No more games. If you’ve come for me, I’m right here.”

“Like most seventeen-year-old children, you are under impression world revolves around you. How is it you work for CIA? Why do they let boy do man’s work? This would never happen in Ukraine’s SBU.”

“I got your boy right here,” I say, clicking open the knife Bunker refused to take.

“Don’t. She’s got me,” Katie says. Whimpers, more like, which nearly makes me lose my shit.

But I don’t. Andrews’s holster is empty and I can guess what she’s jabbing into Katie’s back. The only reason Katie’s in this office is because she means something to me.

I throw the knife onto the desk.

Marchuk takes the blade and holds it on me while Andrews ties me to a chair. Ugh. Wherever he’s been hiding out all this time, he still hasn’t stopped eating borscht three meals a day, or discovered antiperspirant.

“Don’t worry, little one.”

He walks up close to Katie and strokes the side of her face he hasn’t turned an ugly shade of purple. She looks so afraid it’s damn near killing me.

“Such pretty girl. Pavlo appreciates that you agree not to fight. Pavlo will take good care of you, at least until he does not need you.”

If thoughts could kill, he’d be so very dead right now. I search his eyes for any bit of his father in them. Marchuk Sr. was a bad person who did bad things, but he still had some humanity in him—I know that better than anyone. In his son, I see the same facial features, same brown hair and eyes, same complexion—dark, considering he’s a white Slavic dude. But any humanity? There is none. It’s like looking into the eyes of the man who would have killed me if not for Bunker.

Marchuk is going to kill me, even if he takes his sweet time doing it. And then he’s going to kill Katie, but not before doing something awful to her first. On instinct I jump up, lifting the heavy office chair with me, but Andrews has my arms bound tight. I guess Marchuk is worried I have Bruce Banner–like rage because he hauls off and lands a right cross that feels like a sledgehammer against my face.

I actually see stars before the chair and I fall back to earth.





CHAPTER 19

When I come to, only Katie and I are in the office. She’s sitting on the edge of a desk, watching me while dabbing her eyes with a tissue. It makes me wanna-kill-him angry at Marchuk all over again.

“How long was I out? Where are they?”

“A couple of minutes. They’re in Dodson’s office, plotting something, I suppose.” She tosses the tissue in the wastebasket before wagging three fingers in my face. “How many?”

“Six.”

I thought the situation could use a little levity, but I guess not because Katie looks worried. I try to smile, but it hurts like hell.

“Three. I see three fingers.”

“You bugger,” she says, but I can tell she’s more relieved than mad.

“They left you unsecured? Why didn’t you run?”

“Run where?” she asks, amazingly composed considering she must have been bawling a minute ago. Her eyes are red and her lashes are still wet. “The school is locked down. That will only anger him.”

The door to Dodson’s office clicks open. I let my head drop to my chest as though I’m still passed out. A moment passes before I hear the door click shut again.

“All clear,” Katie says after a few seconds. “Andrews was just checking whether you were still unconscious. Or maybe she’s concerned you’re dead.”

“Don’t worry. They can’t take me out that easily.”

Katie takes a seat at the registrar’s desk, picks up a mirror she finds there, and checks out her face before looking over at mine. “I’m just glad she was the one who worked me over instead of Marchuk. For your information, this is what happened the last time I tried to run.”

“I’m here now,” I say in my best it’s-all-under-control voice. “I’m going to get you out of this.”

“Oh, really? I’m not the one mildly concussed and tied to a chair right now.”

She has a point. And I also notice for the first time that she’s not in Carlisle’s uniform. Except for the shoes, she’s wearing the same gear I am: black long-sleeved t-shirt, black cargo pants.

“Why are you dressed like that?” I ask.

“Oh, this old thing? I took them off a bad guy. He didn’t need them anymore and in these situations, they’re far more comfortable than a skirt and blazer.”

Now it’s Katie’s turn to bring some comic relief. I know she’s trying to put on a brave front for me, but I still wish I knew why Marchuk made her dress like that. Given that last comment of his before he knocked me out, maybe I don’t want to know. Dude is clearly a freak.

“Why are you?” she asks.

“Why am I what?”

“Why are you dressed like that? I assume it has something to do with that little spectacle you made on the PA a while ago.”

Odds are good we’re going to die no matter how badass I’m pretending to be for Katie’s sake. I want her to know Jake Morrow before that happens. So I’m about to answer with the truth, but before I can, Marchuk and Andrews come out of Dodson’s office.

“You are in land of living again,” Marchuk says to me.

“And you’re here, in the land of the free. How is that possible?”

Marchuk ignores my question. “Enjoy living while you can. It won’t be for much longer.”

Katie sniffles, and when I look over at her, she’s crying again. She must be so scared, going from dry-eyed to waterworks in under ten seconds.

“Do not worry, little one. You will have bit more time. My promise to you.” He smiles all nasty before barking an order. “Now move other chair over there, next to boyfriend, and have seat. Andrews, go check on office staff in auditorium.”

Katie drags her chair next to mine and takes a seat, but Andrews doesn’t move, only says, “They’re locked down. They aren’t going anywhere.”

“And they are tied up too, but I still want you to make sure all is well. People working in school must be smart. People escape. I should know.”

“Maybe we should get Koval to handle that.”

“Koval is busy keeping other men in line. And making sure hundreds of soft targets stay where they should be. And also making sure package is secure until other package arrives safely. So, no, I do not want Koval to do all these jobs and your job, too. I want you to do what I tell you to do.”

I’m making mental notes of Marchuk’s cryptic talk of “packages” in case I live long enough to decipher them, but I’m also preparing for him to explode. If he does, it would be the right time to strike, if I can figure out how to do that without the use of my hands or feet. Unfortunately for her, Andrews doesn’t seem to notice Marchuk’s about to go ballistic on her.

“But don’t you need me here to—”

“What—help with boy tied to chair? Or with sweet girl?”

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