93. Short Time Left

93. Short Time Left

Nikolay

I had spent the last two weeks away from everything, secluded in the gang's property along with the other members. Occasionally, we would venture out to make sure to kill every white rat that was nearby.

This week would be the last one. Just one more week, and I could go after Margaret.

I looked at my reflection in the bathroom, the same bathroom of the same room where Margaret and I had started anew, but this time I didn't have my beautiful wife with me, and I had long hair and a beard that I hadn't shaved in weeks.

Even Leonid looked better than me, and he had lost his wife, who was also the mother of my daughter.

The only person more determined to kill each of his enemies than me was Leonid.

Sariah had died hours after the attack on her and Melissa, and unlike Melissa, who had lost blood and had two bullets in her, they had only removed her spleen and saved her life.

Sariah, having been shot in the heart and twice in her abdomen, affecting her stomach and kidney, had not been so lucky.

Leonid had cremated his wife and then scattered her remains alone, without anyone to accompany him; he didn't allow it. He had left his daughter with someone he trusted that same day and then had returned to the gang, where we had all coordinated to take down those sons of bitches.

The rats traveled in groups, which allowed us to eliminate several at once, but it wasn't all victories. Several brothers had been seriously injured, and those with wives had sent them away from the city or out of the country.

Melissa was still recovering from the attack, but her recovery was taking place in Mexico, and every day I saw my best friend suffer for not being with his wife or able to support her.

I understood his feelings, but Will had constant reports about Melissa, and Berta was from a company that didn't allow you to get bored.

As for me, I only had reports from Dr. Jenkins and the cameras in the apartment where Margaret was living for the time being, more from her workplace, which Levy had kindly obtained for me.

I pressed the keys on the computer, and after just a couple of clicks, I had Margaret in front of me. She would probably call me crazy or sick, but I couldn't care less; I had cameras in the entrance, living room, and the bedroom where my wife slept.

Apparently, she had just come home from work, and as she always did, she took off her shoes and let her hair fall over her shoulders.

How was it possible for her to be so beautiful? Just standing there and wearing a nice, loose-fitting long-sleeved dress, she looked perfect.

The dress did little to hide her breasts, which had increased considerably since the last time I saw her, and something else that had grown was her belly. According to the doctor, Margaret was small, but for me, our son or daughter was big.

They had already passed the halfway mark. I didn't know much about women's bodies or how babies formed, but I did know that at this point, the doctor knew the baby's sex, and she also knew that most of the things it needed to develop were only a few weeks away from being complete.

Well, in several more weeks, but still, it was crazy to think about.

Margaret didn't have any cravings that she couldn't live without while I was with her; in fact, food and she were at odds, but now about 3 times a week, when she arrived at work, she carried a paper bag full of cheese fingers, which didn't last more than half an hour.

Her disappointed face when she realized there was nothing left in the bag always filled my chest with warmth and drew a smile on my face.

"Just one more week, babe, and all the damn cheese fingers in the world will be yours."

I watched Margaret walk slowly directly under the camera, she went out of my sight, but not for long, since the other installed camera let me see where she was. Slowly, she bent down to her knees on the floor, I saw her remove the inconspicuous gray rug covering the floor.

I saw her lift the pillow completely and open the door of the hiding place I installed in the floor.

I didn't know if it was out of pure desperation or if she was making a last attempt to regain her sanity, but Margaret had cleaned every corner of the apartment until she found the hiding place where she also found more money; which was filled with thousands of hundreds of dollars.

And being her, she hid the money with which I had sent her right there, she was damn meticulous about money, she took out a little and didn't take out anything else until there was not a cent left in her wallet, which led me to suppose that she had run out of money again.

After taking it all out, she quickly closed the hiding place shut. I waited for her to stand up, but she didn't, she just stared at the money fixedly.

"What the hell, babe? Is it too little? Do you need more? You have a damn fortune there!" I whispered at the screen.

Approximately a second later, she started crying, throwing the bills aside, and with her free hand, she covered her eyes and the other traveled to her belly.

For my part, I dedicated myself to look away.

The image on the screen generated so much pain that it was hard for me to breathe.

"Is the plan clear?" I asked all the men present, all of them had red eyes or terrible dark circles.

They were desperate to return home.

Two weeks ago, I had banned anything other than the distributor responsible for bringing enough food to keep us alive from entering.

This meant no more hookers.

While they were never seen, since they were not allowed to wander around, their presence made me more paranoid than I had ever been.

At that moment, not even my shadow was trustworthy.

"We only need five more of these bastards, and we haven't spent so much time, energy, and money for the cops and the feds to mess with us, for this to end just like that. We're going after them, we're going to do things differently this time, no more deaths that can pass as accidents or a quick and easy bullet to the head, we're going to make these bastards burn in hell before they even get there. Is that clear?"

"Can I make a request?" Leonid's lifeless, deep voice was present.

"Of course."

"Let me torture them first, the evidence will vanish in the fire. I need them to bleed."

"The question is offensive in itself," I responded with a half-smile.

"I don't understand."

"Who the hell said we couldn't have some fun with them before giving them what they deserve? If anyone has a torture fantasy or wants to get creative, now's the time.”