Chapter 53: Chapter 53

Chapter 53

ASH

The day we are born is the day we are marked for death.

Words, father threw at me when I was still a child, echo loudly in my mind, the moment I wake and become aware of my surroundings.

Beside me, Hazel eyes tosses fitfully, her full lips parting and eliciting a loud moan. They bring back to mind the situation that took place an hour ago. Thank goodness for the tranquilizers the doctor gave her, otherwise, it would have been a different story. The echoes of her screams still fill my ears.

The glare from the overhead light cuts directly into my eyes, intensifying the pounding in my head. It's as if someone's hitting a hammer against my cranium.

I deserve it anyway. I deserve to feel this way for putting Tanya in harm's way. For getting her killed. Granted, I didn't pull the trigger, but I could have as well done so. I should have been more alert. I should have told her not to go to the apartment she and Alicia stayed. I should have taken more precautions.

So many I should have's and not enough should"s, and now she's dead. Gone forever.

I'll never see her again, never hear her snarky replies or her gay laughter anymore. Alicia will never see her again either. She's all alone in the whole world, just like me.

At least we've got each other.

When earlier on, a package arrived for me, I didn't know it would be to watch how Tanya was murdered in cold blood by my look-alike. Alicia had almost gone crazy when she saw the video.

How the fuck two people can have the exact same symmetrical features without even being related, beats me hollow. It also leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, especially since I don't understand it.

I close my eyes, and from memory, pull up the face of the man who shot at Tanya. His face is imprinted in my mind. Dark wavy hair, dark brown eyes, full wide lips, and a long nose. It's like staring in the fucking mirror. The resemblance between us is fucking uncanny. Off-putting, even.

Who the fuck is he anyway?

Someone trying to get to me, obviously. Someone who'll stoop to any lengths to see me disappear from the face of the earth.

I curl my hands in fists which had, only a few seconds ago, lain limply on my laps. I'll get the fucker who did this, even if it's the last thing I do. I notice the duvet is entangled with Hazel eyes body, so I extricate her from it. Since the room has gotten chilly, I drag it up her body to her chin.

She'll be out for at least a few hours. That should buy me some time to figure out what my next plan of action will be.

I make my way to my office and close the door behind me. The TV remote control sits on my desk mocking me to pick it up and watch the murder of Tanya all over again like I'd already done about ten times. A coppery taste explodes in my mouth making me realize I've unknowingly been biting the inside of my lower lip. It takes a few seconds but I eventually brisk-walk to the desk and pick up the remote control from it. There's a tremor in my hand that wasn't there a few second ago.

Guilt will do that to you. . . and death. Death that should never have visited a girl in the prime of her life.

I lean against my desk as I start up the video once more, this time, forwarding it to the end. I watch as words appear on the screen, words that make no sense to me other than send a thrill through me.

I'm coming for you next. I'm going to take your life and your very existence and make it mine. Be ready!

Oh, I'm fucking ready, you can be sure of that.

I'm so ready, I can feel the taste for blood on my tongue and the way my heart pants to get my fingers around the throat of the fucker that perpetrated this act. I'd made sure my men didn't see the words currently splayed on the screen.

What's the point?

It's my cross and I'll damn well carry it, no matter how heavy it is. I push away from my desk and begin pacing. I stop and close my eyes, recalling the last hour that took place as I weigh my options.

1.) The video wasn't sent via mail so there's no IP address to trace.

2.) The video was mailed to me, which means whoever sent it knows where I live, and Alicia as well. There was no forwarding address attached to it.

3.) The company that sent it does not fucking exist. I've done my homework already, so that's back to square one.

I mentally backtrack to option number two as I shake my head.

From where I'm standing, there are literally zero options for me to weigh. That means I've got nothing. Zero. Nada. Zilch.

In other words. I'm a sitting duck

Shit.

I wipe my hands down my face. Not if I can fucking help it.

I've never felt so helpless in all my adult years seeing as I'm usually the one who does the stalking. The maiming. The killing. Now it's been done to me, but it's most certainly gonna end with me killing the fucker. That's for damn sure.

I shake my head as I snatch up the key of a car from the tray of keys on my desk, and stalk through the door. Where I'm headed, I don't know, but I'll be damned if I sit around and do nothing. On my way down, I make a call to one of my contacts, telling him to find out about a man that looks like me. I sense his hesitation. Heck, I'll hesitate as well if I were in his shoes, but short of showing him the video, which I won't, that's all he's gonna get.

He asks if there's a name I can give him, and I reply by asking if pigs fly. He says nothing to that, except to tell me, after a long hesitation, that it's a really long shot but he'll do his best.

I don't doubt that.

After the phone call, I drive around without any particular destination in mind. Cars speed by, or maybe I'm the one doing the speeding. My mind is on autopilot, which means by the time I stop the car, I'm completely unaware of my surroundings, that is until I look up and see a castle-styled house. The mansion must be five stories stacked with white pillars and french doors. Probably built for him, directly from a floor plan he sketched himself.

Igor Ivanov.

With a lightness in my steps that I don't feel in my heart, I step down from the vehicle and look around. I walk to the see-through gate and peep inside. There doesn't seem to be any guards around, but one never knows. I push away from it and walk around the perimeter, surveying it. The house sits on probably six plots, with lots of acres of land to spare. Igor's next-door neighbor lives about half a mile away, creating ample privacy for him, which invariably is a plus for me.

I notice a closed-off street which looks more like an alley, a short distance away from his house. It's perfect for hiding things, so I walk back to my car, start it up, and drive straight inside. It's a good fit for my Audi, leaving just enough space for me to maneuver out of it.

As I walk back to his house, I pick up a stone from the ground. I throw it inside the compound as far as I'm able to, and wait.

Nothing happens.

No sirens start up, no guards slink out of hidden corners, and definitely no roaming dogs bark. I'm home free. I move back a bit and run toward the gate. When I get close, I leap in the air and attach myself to it. I scale it and climb over before dropping down onto the ground on the other side. I wait for a few seconds on all fours as my night vision kicks in before I begin running toward the house. No one intercepts me, but just as I get to within five feet of the house, I see it.

A metallic object protrudes from the ground, so I stoop to examine it.

Inbuilt ground sensors.

If I had stepped on it, or side-stepped it, a shrill sound would have echoed throughout the house, informing both the occupants and probably the police as well, that an intruder is in their compound. I know this because I have the exact same type strategically built into the ground in my compound.

I pause, trying to figure out a way to get around it, but every scenario I bring up falls short.

"Breaking and entering is a serious crime." A voice announces from behind me.

Only way I see it now. . .

I'm screwed.