Kingmakers, Graduation

34. Adrik

34

ADRIK

A s soon as we get home Sabrina goes right to bed, and in the morning when I wake she’s already gone.

It’s unusual for her to wake up first. She’s obviously avoiding me.

I come downstairs to the main floor, noting the still silence of the house. Andrei and Hakim are still asleep as per usual, and no one else is around.

I start to make breakfast on the old stove, taking a pack of bacon and a carton of brown speckled eggs out of the fridge. Before I’ve even set out the skillet, I find myself walking out the front door, checking the carport where—as I suspected—the black SUV is nowhere to be seen.

Chief is stumbling into the kitchen when I return, his hair sticking up in all directions, pushing his glasses up so he can rub his eyes with the back of his knuckles .

“Where’s Sabrina?“ I ask.

“I dunno, I just got up.”

Vlad comes up from the basement a moment later, sweaty and red-faced.

“Where’s Sabrina and Jasper?”

He shrugs. “I haven’t seen anybody.”

I pull out my phone, launching the app that lets me track Sabrina’s phone. I find her little blue dot in Izmaylovo. Instantly, I know what she’s doing.

“Where are you going?” Chief says, as I switch off the stove.

“I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Aren’t you gonna make bacon?”

“Make it yourself.”

I tuck my gun inside my jacket and grab my helmet, roaring off on my bike even though the roads are wet and slushy.

I head straight to Izmaylovo, to the dingy little restaurant I’ve deliberately never visited. Written across the plate-glass windows in faded script I see the promise, Svizhi Pyrohy!, Fresh Pierogies!.

The restaurant isn’t open yet, but the door is unlocked. A goon in an overcoat lurks inside, sitting at one of the un-set tables, fucking around on his phone.

“Where are they?” I demand.

Unconsciously, he glances toward the kitchen. I stride off in that direction while he shoves back his chair and almost trips over his own feet trying to chase after me .

I shove open the swinging doors. Four faces turn in my direction, each bearing a completely different expression: Sabrina’s is a flash of surprise that quickly turns to annoyance, Jasper looks like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, Krystiyan’s henchman shouts something at the other goon in Ukrainian—probably You were supposed to be watching the door, you dumb shit— and Krystiyan himself gives me a smirk so enraging that my hand twitches to shoot him right then and there.

“Adrik. Nice of you to join us.”

“Out,” I say, pointing at Sabrina. “Right now.”

Sabrina doesn’t move an inch. She crosses her arms over her chest, coolly replying, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jasper would happily leave if he weren’t literally in the midst of handing a big bag of our cash over to Krystiyan. He’s frozen in place, unable to complete the deal right under my eye, and likewise unable to take back what’s already been set in motion.

It’s Krystiyan’s goon who moves first, reaching into his jacket.

He’s about ten times slower than he’d need to be for that maneuver to go anywhere. Before he can pull his hand out, I’ve got my gun in his face, hissing, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“The deal’s already done,” Krystiyan says, smug and satisfied.

“Then it can be und one.”

I pick up the black duffle bag at Sabrina’s feet and fling it in Krystiyan’s face hard enough that he stumbles backward. His hair is disarranged, his cheeks blotchy with anger.

“Keep the money,” I say to Jasper.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sabrina cries, stepping between Krystiyan and me, getting right in my face. “We need that product!”

“Not from him.”

“You’re being insane! I?—”

Before she can say another word, I stoop and seize her around the thighs, throwing her over my shoulder and bodily carrying her out of the kitchen. She shrieks like a harpy, hitting my back with all her might, screaming, “WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW WHAT THE FUCK ADRIK PUT ME DOWN OR I’LL?—”

“Let’s go,” I bark at Jasper.

I don’t wait to see if he follows. I’m carrying Sabrina out of the restaurant, back to the car, where I fling her in the passenger seat and close the door in her face.

Jasper is right behind me, loading the money back in the trunk.

“Bring my bike home,” I order, trading him keys.

Sabrina is still screaming at top volume as I climb in the front seat.

“How fucking dare you?—”

“How dare YOU?” I bellow back at her, twisting the key so hard I almost snap it off the fob. The engine roars to life and I peel away from t he restaurant, my hands shaking on the wheel. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this angry. “You take my lieutenant and make a deal behind my back after I forbid you to do it?”

“Forbid me!” Sabrina sneers. “You’re not my father and you’re not my fucking boss! This is my business as much as yours, my fucking product! I need those supplies, and you blew it up for nothing, because you’re paranoid, because you want to be in control!”

I’m weaving through traffic, speeding way too fast. So angry that I could jerk the wheel and send us both careening into a semi-truck just to spite her.

“How did you even know where we were?” Sabrina demands.

“I put a tracker on your phone.”

She stares at me, mouth open, face pale with rage.

Then she pulls her cellphone out of her pocket, unrolls the window, and flings it out onto the road. Her phone smashes on the pavement, the pieces run over immediately by a delivery truck.

“Really fucking clever!” I shout at her.

She’s breathing shallow, chest hitching, no color in her face. Her lips are ashy and her eyes wide and unblinking, burning with cold fire.

“I can’t believe you,” she hisses. “You put a chip on me like a fucking dog?”

“And I’ll do it again,” I say, coldly.

We’re already almost back at the Den .

I’ve never seen Sabrina so angry. Part of me knows I should de-escalate, but the other part of me is feeding off her rage, building and building like a firestorm in high wind.

Maybe it’s time we had this out once and for all.