Dark Russian Angel: Chapter 32

I was in the kitchen doing dishes when Sasha raced towards the door and barked loudly.

My first thought was bear. I looked out the window and felt my knees almost give out from under me. There, rolling on the ground, were Andrusha and a man. I saw fists and the flash of a knife.

I grabbed the shotgun, but it wasn’t loaded. I ran to the pantry, nearly tripping over myself. When we first arrived, Viktor had shown me all the supplies and taught me how to load the shotgun. I pulled down the boxes from the top shelf until I found the shells for the shotgun. My shaking hands could barely manage to load it.

I ran to the door, and Sasha bound out, barking.

I flew down the steps and lifted the gun, but I couldn’t get a clear shot. The two men were rolling around, and fists were flying. I couldn’t risk hitting Andrusha.

Neither man seemed aware of me. And then in slow motion, Bunko tripped Andrusha and fell on top of him. He sat up, lifting his hands above his head. He held a huge blade in his hands.

I pulled the trigger. I staggered back with the force of the kickback.

My shot gave Andrusha the edge he needed. He rolled over and hit the guy in the face, knocking him out before staggering to a stand and kicking the knife away. I watched, frozen, as he rolled the guy over and used his belt as a tourniquet on the man’s arm.

He stood up and strode towards me. His face was covered in blood, and he had a scary cut on his neck that was trickling blood onto his shirt. He gently took the gun from my hands. His voice was soft. “Are you okay?”

I wasn’t okay. Andrusha’s face looked battered. “I just shot a man.”

He moved to stand between me and the man. “I know.”

“He was going to kill you.” I wiped beneath my nose, only at that moment aware that tears and snot streamed down my face. “Is he going to die?”

Andrusha looked regretful. “He will if he doesn’t get medical help.”

My knees buckled, and I would have dropped to the ground if Andrusha hadn’t grabbed my arm. “I’m going to jail?”

He led me up to the steps. “I need you to go sit in the living room.”

I looked at the man lying unconscious on the snow. Tears blurred my eyes. “Don’t kill him, Andrusha.”

“Go on, now.”

I staggered upstairs and moved to the living room. My socks were wet since I had run outside without my boots, but I didn’t have the energy to change them. I just stood in the middle of the living room, trying to process what was about to happen.

I shot a man.

A sound startled me out of my daze. I watched in horror as Andrusha carried the man into the room.

I recognized that face.

“Andrusha, that’s Bunko!” I cried.

“I know.” He lowered the man to the couch.

“What do we do now?”

He turned to me. “He’s going to die without medical intervention.”

I nodded, not understanding. “We’re trying to save him?”

He moved to stand in front of me. “I don’t want you to live with that burden.”

My eyes searched him. Andrusha’s face looked so battered, it scared me. “What should I do?”

He grabbed my hands with his bloody ones. “Go put on warm clothes. And then come back down here.”

I raced upstairs, pulling on clothes, changing my socks. I had no idea what was happening. When I ran back downstairs, Andrusha stepped between me and Bunko, blocking my view. He steered me into the kitchen and handed me a helmet. “I need you to go call for help.”

I looked at the helmet and back at him. “But when you phone, you have to drive the snowmobile somewhere.”

“The alternative is that I leave you here with Bunko.” He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Because he might hurt me?” I blinked.

“Because he might die.”

That sobered me out of my shock. I moved to put on my boots. “You want me to drive the snowmobile?”

“I’m going to show you how.”

It took a few terrifying practice runs around the yard before I mastered the clutch and the gas. He got off the machine and yelled, “Follow the tracks. When you get to the end, use this phone and call search and rescue.” He handed me a phone and a piece of paper. “These are our coordinates.”

“What do I tell them?” My voice was almost lost beneath the roar of the engine.

“Tell them a man has been shot and is in life-threatening condition. Give them the coordinates. When the call is done, come straight back here. Go slow. Stay on the tracks.”

I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave Andrusha’s side, but he needed me to do this. “Okay.”

I started out slow, but eventually I got the hang of driving the big machine. I worked hard to stay on the path until it broke out into a clearing. The tracks came to a stop.

I dialed the number Andrusha had given me.

As I slowly drove back to the cabin, I thought about what would happen once search and rescue arrived. Would they arrest me for shooting Bunko? Would they want to take me into custody? Would Andrusha get in trouble? I had planned to go into hiding. Now I had no idea what would become of me.

Maybe the smart thing would have been to kill Bunko and bury his body somewhere, but I couldn’t imagine the outcome of that either. That kind of secret would burn like acid over time.

Call me naive, but murder was never the answer.

When I got back to the cabin, Andrusha came out to meet me. He turned off the machine and looked at me. “Did you do it?”

“They said they would be here in thirty-five minutes.”

He pulled me into a big hug and lifted me off the machine. “I’m so proud of you.”

I pulled back, looking at him. He had washed all the blood off himself and changed his shirt, but his face remained beaten and sore.

“Is he still alive?”

He nodded.

I felt all the tension sag out of me. No matter what, the relief that I wasn’t a murderer was real. “Who will they send in the chopper?”

“Probably an RCMP officer and medical help.” He put his arm around me. “I need you to go pack your bag, okay?”

I paused and looked at him. “Why? Where am I going?”

He gave me a sympathetic look. “They’re not going to let us stay here.” He kissed me again. “Can you go pack, please?”

I packed my bag and then moved downstairs. Bunko remained unconscious on the couch. I stepped out on the porch. Andrusha followed me.

We stood there, looking out at all the wilderness before us.

“Can you hear that?” he said.

I shook my head. “What?”

“Those are the blades of the helicopter. They will be here soon.”

He fired a flare into the sky, waited a few moments, and then fired another one.

I could hear the heavy beating of the helicopter as it came closer. Andrusha put his arm around me, and his mouth met mine. The kiss felt like sorrow, regret, and pain. I clung to him.

He looked at me. “No matter what happens, the only thing you tell them is that you didn’t see the fight. You didn’t see me shoot Bunko.”

“I shot Bunko.”

He turned and put both hands on my face. “No, sweetheart. I shot him.”

I slowly realized the cost of saving Bunko. Someone had to take the fall for shooting him in the first place.

“I can’t let you say that.” I grabbed onto his hands. “I can’t.”

He kissed me once more. “Please do this one thing for me. I need some joy. Knowing you’re safe and away from this will make it worth it.”

I started to cry. “Don’t say that.”

He smiled as he wiped the tears from my face. “Saving you wasn’t atonement enough, Olivia. If I want my life back, I have to own my mistakes.”

Tears streaked down my face. “I need you to come and find me.”

He didn’t answer. He just kissed me until the helicopter was hovering above us and men started to come down the rope.

When their feet touched the ground, everything in my world changed.

Andrusha’s lawyer sat beside me as Detective Klaassen interrogated me. The last forty-eight hours of my life had been a nightmare. Andrusha and Bunko had been flown to the hospital, and Sasha and I had been flown to the nearest RCMP post, where they kept us in a cell together. They didn’t tell me anything. That’s when Andrusha’s lawyer had shown up.

He demanded I be released from their custody, and then he escorted me and Sasha back to Vancouver. He dropped us off at a hotel and advised me to talk to no one.

This morning, he brought me to my interview at the police station, where he refused to let me speak.

We sat on one side of the table, and Detective Klaassen was on the other side. No matter what question she asked, my lawyer interrupted with a reason why I couldn’t answer.

She tossed a file towards me, and clinical medical photos of Andrusha’s wounds and Bunko’s arm spilled out. I stifled a gasp at Andrusha’s cut and bruised face on one of the huge glossies. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the photo. Even marred with injury, he stared at the camera with a mixture of defiance and boredom.

I missed him.

“Oliva, I’m running out of patience with—”

“Cut the bullshit, Detective,” the man beside me interrupted. “We aren’t interested in your emotions.”

She eyeballed him before looking at me. “Tell me what happened.”

I took a breath, but he spoke over me again. “We’re here out of courtesy to tell you that Olivia is withdrawing all of her testimony against Bunko. Due to the recent threats on her life and the court’s limited interest in keeping her safe, she is within her rights.”

The detective’s nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. “Why not cut us off at the balls?”

“You wouldn’t be in this situation if you had been able to protect my client.”

“What can you give us?” She wasn’t even looking at me. This conversation was entirely between her and the lawyer.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Olivia is moving on with her life, and she refuses to implicate herself further in any of your mess. If you reach out to contact her without my knowledge, we will be filing harassment charges against the department.”

She pinned me with a look. “Your boyfriend is going to jail for a really long time. By the time he gets out, you’ll be too old to remember him. But what your lawyer isn’t telling you is that your testimony can help him. Help Andrusha get a reduced sentence. Help salvage some of his life.”

My stomach pitched over in cold dread. “I can help.”

The lawyer stood suddenly, the legs of his chair scraping against the hard floor. “I want the room.”

The detective glared at him before she stood and exited the room.

He waited until she had left. “I told you not to speak to her.”

I grabbed the man’s arm. “I shot Bunko.”

He blinked. “Andrusha told me.”

“Why aren’t we telling her the truth?”

He sat down beside me. “Do you trust Andrusha?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “He said he knew you’d protest and that you’d want to tell the detective the truth about everything.”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“He wanted me to ask you if you trust him.”

My heart thudded in my chest. “He’s the most trustworthy man I know.”

He nodded slowly. “He has a plan, but it involves you withdrawing your statement about Bunko and walking away from all of this.”

I swallowed hard. “What does that mean? Did he say?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Is he going to come and find me after all of this? Did he talk about that?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. He didn’t talk about that.”

“Can I see him?”

He gave me an apologetic look. “At this point, Andrusha isn’t seeing anyone other than me. Can I tell him that you’ll do as he asks?”

I leaned closer. This man was my key to seeing Andrusha. “I want to talk to him.”

“I’ll ask him. Can I end this meeting with the police, and can I get your assurance that you won’t talk to them—not without me present?”

I couldn’t keep the pleading out of my voice. “Tell him I need to talk to him.”

He stood up and said sadly, “I’ll tell him.”