Game Over (The Baltimore Banners Book 2) by Lisa B. Kamps

Author:Lisa B. Kamps [Kamps, Lisa B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BimHaven Press
Published: 2015-06-28T23:00:00+00:00

**

The room was dim, the only light coming from the oversized television, the change of scenes from the muted show casting a crazy dance of light and shadow on the walls. Nikolai sat on the edge of the sofa, his hands hanging loosely between his knees, seeing nothing around him. He took a deep breath and clenched his hands tighter together, willing them to stop shaking with the tremors of one much older.

With the tremors of one much terrified.

A harsh sound echoed around him, a screech of whimpered fear, and Nicolai was surprised to realize the sound had come from him.

Or was he?

He took another deep breath then reached for the bottle on the table in front of him, quickly unscrewing the cap and pouring the clear liquid into an empty glass. The glass clattered together, echoing in the stillness around him. The clear liquid splashed over the side and spilled onto the table, forming a small puddle. He ignored it and placed the bottle back on the table with a heavy thud of glass against wood. His hand was unsteady and nearly toppled the bottle over but he quickly righted it.

And wished he could blame his unsteady hands on the vodka.

He brought the glass to his lips and drained the contents in one gulp, feeling the warm fire spill down his throat. Yes, he wished with everything he had, with everything he didn't have, that his shaking hands were the result of the vodka; wished the fire of the clear liquid would spread through him, would numb him from the inside out.

But it wasn't to be. He didn't think he could drink enough vodka to make him numb, to make him forget the scene from earlier.

Nikolai closed his eyes against the memory, then quickly reopened them as the scene played itself all too clearly in his mind. He didn't want to remember, and was afraid that it would be a long time before he forgot.

A very long time.

Bobbi, shaken and hurt, blood dripping down her face. Her worry over him, the frantic search of her hands against his body, looking for his injuries when it was she who bled, she who hurt.

Overlaying that, another image, this one of Alexi. His brother, with his arm outstretched, his mouth open in a shout of warning. A shout that never came, stopped short in an explosion of red. Katerina screaming, Dimitri crying as he was pulled from his mother's arms, not understanding what was happening.

None of them understanding.

Only Nikolai knew, only Nikolai understood. And he had sworn then, eight years ago, that he would let nothing like that happen again. He would play their game, be their pawn, bend to their will.

But for what? Because it did happen again, only a few hours earlier.

Yes, he knew they were calling it an accident. A drive-by shooting, another instance of crime in the city. But he knew better. He knew it was not coincidence.

Another tremor overtook him, violent and swift, and he brought his clenched fists to his eyes as an almost inhuman cry escaped him.

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