I lunged forward, fists clenched. "What did you do?!"
"Nothing," he said with a smug grin. "This time, I did absolutely nothing."
"You're lying."
He tilted his head, mock-offended. "Me? I wouldn't dream of it."
"You're lying!" I snarled.
"Go find out for yourself," he said, waving a hand. "And while you're at it, ask him why he volunteered. Maybe you're not the only one capable of making sacrifices."
I stood there, breathing hard, the world spinning under my feet.
I couldn't tell if it was rage… or fear.
But I knew one thing.
I had to get back to Ivan. Now.
The jet couldn't fly fast enough.
Every second in the air felt like a crime scene waiting to happen. I stared out the window, but all I saw was Ivan's face. Blood on his temple. His lips parted like he was trying to speak. His body cold.
I shook it off. No. Fucking. No.
He was alive. He had to be.
