“f*****g figured,” I mutter. “It’s your third sweep. If you were going to find them there, by now, you would have.”
If possible, Yuri’s face darkens even more. I reach for the glass cabinet behind my back. I take a bottle of bourbon and two glasses, then pour.
Then I knock back mine.
The alcohol burns a path down my throat. It’s not enough to ground me, but at least it dulls the senses. Mutes the noise of my ever-spinning mind.
Then I remember the last time I had this drink with her.
“I have another job for you,” I tell Yuri.
He looks up at me from his glass, still untouched. “Anything.”
“I need you to tail Grisha.”
His eyes go wide. “Grisha? Why?”
“You don’t think he’s involved, do you?” When I don’t answer, Yuri pales. “Matvey, you can’t possibly—”
“Think,” I hiss. “There’s no
