Merciless Union by Faith Summers

17

Lucca

Iwas quick.

I wanted to stay a little longer and talk to my friend, but the moment I got to the graveside, my nerves spiked the same way they do when I know I've been followed.

That meant I was already too late, and someone had seen me.

How?

That question could only be answered by knowing who Pasha has working for him.

Since I considered something like this happening, I came prepared. I have two guns in my back pocket and three different-sized knives.

By the time I get to the mausoleum at the end of the plot, I'm sure someone is definitely watching me, and I might not be able to get to my car. So, I divert and head toward the other end of the cemetery near the bridge.

If I can get there, I can take the van the grounds maintenance men use and escape.

I make it to the path by the exit leading to the bridge, and that’s where I find three men waiting by the gates.

Since the cemetery closes at eight p.m. in the summer and it's now well after midnight, I already know these people are guests of mine and not for the dearly departed.

Shit.

I stop when they start coming toward me, and my eyes dart around my surroundings for a route of escape.

When they step into the moonlight, and I come face to face with my ex-best friend, I'm glad I came out tonight.

He’s one guy I can kill without repercussions. His presence is answer enough on how they found me.

Jon’s words from our last meeting have been ringing through my mind non-stop.

Him saying I was like a brother was a fucking lie. This motherfucker spat on our friendship and the friendship we shared with Timothy, too.

I need to think of the bastard he is now and not the friend I used to know. Like a fucking demon, Jon is wearing the face of the person I knew him to be.

He took Aria, and he knew Raphael wanted to kill her. I will show him no mercy.

My thoughts of killing him, however, fade instantly when more men emerge from behind the graves on the plots on either side of me.

I count thirty.

At thirty to one, I’m vastly outnumbered and once again reminded my mission has to be to live so I can protect my wife.

That doesn’t stop me from trying my hand at taking out the traitor before me.

“Knew you would come here at some point,” Jon states.

“Thirty men? Well done. You knew you’d need at least that many to try and take me down.”

"Your arrogance will be your biggest downfall, Lucca Dyshekov. When last I checked, I took you down all by myself."

He caught me off guard at the house. “That doesn’t count. You pretended to be something you never were.”

In the light of the moon, I see something flicker across his face that resembles disappointment. I don’t give a damn about his feelings, so I pretend I didn't notice.

“I had to do what I had to do.”

“Enough talking already!” I bellow like a wild animal, then in the flash of a second, I whip out my gun and shoot the guy to my left in the head.

That gives me the diversion I need to go for Jon. He comes at me too, but so do all of them.

The next second that follows sees us all fighting. These are no mere men. They're all from the Bratva. Some I know, and some I don't.

The look on their faces remind me of vultures getting ready to tear the bones of a carcass and leave nothing behind but remnants of blood.

That’s okay because I was cut from the same cloth.

Bullets fly right and left, and I try not to die. A cacophony of fists and kicks follow, and more men join the dead that are already here.

I must take down at least fifteen, and the remainder do their best to kill me. More go down, but fucking hell, when I see more men coming from the

shadows, I'm forced to accept retreat. If I am to fulfill my mission, I have to get out of here now.

I see an opening when I take down three guys at once, and I take it but not before firing a shot at Jon first, who barely dodges my attack.

He fully expects me to continue fighting, so what I do next throws him for a loop.

I break into a sprint on the plot next to me, leaping over the grave with the creepy angel gravestone.

In my pursuit, I take down two more men. That gives me the chance to push forward and get a good head start.

Thankfully, I know where I'm going, and I'm hoping they might not be as familiar with the cemetery as I am.

I run, turning and shooting back at them when I can.

When I get to the bridge, I leap onto it and run across, but damn it to hell, there are men waiting for me here too.

And their leader is Pasha himself.

I stop in the middle path and gaze at his big toothy smile.

"Well, look at this. It looks like we caught ourselves the enemy boys," he taunts.

I could shoot him right now. I should shoot him and kill him for everything he’s done, but when I think of the repercussions and Aiden's warning about recklessness, it schools my thoughts.

This motherfucker also knows if I kill him before absolving myself as an enemy to the Bratva, it will be worse for me and for Aria. We'd spend the rest of our lives running and looking over our shoulders.

“Enemy? From where I'm standing, you're the only enemy I can see." I retort. "I know what you and Raphael are up to, and I know what you did.”

“Do you now?”

“I fucking do. Where’s Raphael, Pasha?”

“Out of your reach, Merciless.”

“I will find him,” I vow, and his smile widens. “Then you're dead, Pasha. I'm just biding time to truly destroy you. I will slice that smile off your face for what you did to my wife.”

As Pasha steps forward and ten men follow behind, the rumble of a truck catches my attention. It’s coming down the road and is my only escape route.

"I would love to see you try, Merciless. You have nothing, and I've already had a good fill of your wife, again. Imagining her tight cunt around my dick while she watched me jerk off was very satisfying.”

I’m not about to allow him to get away with that. All I agreed to do is not kill him yet.

The truck comes close enough and just in time for me to strike.

I fire one last shot that hits him in his arm. While I would much rather shoot off his dick, I chose his arm because it’s non-fatal and sends the message that I could kill his ass if I wanted to.

The hit catches him completely off-guard. As he wails and blood pours, I leap over the barrier and freefall onto the back of the truck.

I go crashing into a stack of hay that cushions the blow but still jerks my body and it feels like my stitches have come undone.

As I look upon the bridge, Pasha's is the last face I see, and I vow for death next time.

You and Jon are both dead, Pasha. I will kill you.