His (Ties That Bind Book 2)

by A. Zavarelli

  Katerina flips to the last page of Good night, Gorilla, quieting her voice as she peeks over her shoulder to check on Josh. At the same time, I glance at him in the rearview mirror, and relax a little as she confirms that he’s asleep.

  “It’s good for him to keep a consistent naptime,” she says. “If nothing else.”

  “It won’t always be this way.” I reach over and tuck a strand of black hair behind her ear. She looks different but still beautiful. Always beautiful.

  “I know.” She glances out the window and shrugs. “Inevitably, something will have to change.”

  I don’t want to worry her, so I don’t bring up the fact that things have already changed and not for the better. During my call with Alexei this morning, he informed me that Andrei is, by some miracle, still alive.

  I guess I shouldn’t have unloaded four of the shots into his dick. Being the fucking oaf that he is, it shouldn’t surprise me. He could be hit by a bus and still probably manage to crawl out from beneath it. But if there’s one small comfort in all of this, it’s that he’ll certainly never fuck anything else again.

  In addition to that fucking cockroach, Alexei also informed me that Vasily is losing his shit. He’s already sent out at least a dozen of his soldiers to look for us. Word is he’s been combing every Vory safe house on the East Coast as we speak, and he’s already paid two visits to Alexei’s home.

  Alexei was quick to let me know that Vasily was practically foaming at the mouth. He’s never seen him like this. The words homicidal lunatic were uttered more than once during that conversation. He has it out for me, and he especially wants Kat. My cousin didn’t sugarcoat any of the details. Vasily is out for blood, and there is no going back now.

  I’ve started a war with one of the most powerful men in Philadelphia. Vasily has many contacts. Government agents in his pockets. Cops. Politicians. The list is endless. They are all fucking terrified of him for this very reason. But when I glance at Kat riding shotgun beside me, I know that whatever comes next will be worth it. I will burn Vasily’s whole fucking world if that’s what it takes to keep my family together. If he wants to come for us, I will be the one to come for him instead. I will not rest until I have destroyed his life and taken as much as he’s taken from me.

  As for Andrei, he might be alive for now, but he better enjoying every goddamn breath he’s granted because they are certainly numbered.

  “Are we going to another hotel in New York?” Kat asks, breaking through my thoughts.

  “Yes. But we’ll have to stop and stay the night somewhere in between.”

  She gives me a questioning glance but thinks better of asking me why. The drive from Boston to New York City is only a few hours, but there are three different addresses I need to check out along the way. Alexei could only speculate on Maxim’s location, but he suspects that he’s been hiding out with his ex-girlfriend all these years, and her family has ties to Rhode Island and Connecticut.

  When we stop in Providence a little over an hour later, Kat doesn’t think to question it. I drive around for a while before settling on a hotel downtown. It’s only when we’re inside the room that Kat seems to relax.

  “Can we afford to keep staying in places like this?” she asks.

  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” I kiss her on the forehead and squeeze her ass in my palm. “We can afford it.”

  She chews on her lip and gets Josh settled at the coffee table with a coloring book and some crayons. I rifle through the duffel and grab some ammo, and she frowns when I stuff it into my jacket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to go out for a while. It might be a few hours. Can you hold everything down here?”

  She doesn’t seem entirely sure of that, but I give her a long lingering kiss to try to make her forget her nerves. It seems to work, and when she looks up at me with heavy-lidded eyes, she curls her fingers into mine.

  “Or you could just stay here for a while.”

  A grin tugs at my lips as I cup her face and kiss her one more time. “If I could, I would, but this is important. I’ll be back, but just remember what I said about Alexei. In the meantime, I’ll be texting you often to check in on you.”

  “Okay.” She squares her shoulders and nods. “But isn’t there something I could be doing here to help? I’m sick of just laying low and watching TV. If I can help you, Lev, then let me.”

  I consider her offer and decide that if nothing else, it can’t hurt. Grabbing the pad and pen from the desk, I hand it to her.

  “If you want to help, write down everything you remember about your mother. Her family. Places she may have lived. Anything she may have said to you. I know you were young, but any detail you might remember could be important.”

  “But why?” She frowns. “I don’t understand what she has to do with any of this.”

  I sigh, really not wanting to get into this with her right now. But I know she’s not going to relent until I throw her a bone. At least a little bit at a time, so she can process everything slowly.

  “When I spoke to Alexei this morning, he mentioned that your mother had a connection to Gleb Mikhailov. Have you ever heard that name before?”

  “No.” She shrugs. “Who is he?”

  “He’s one of the Vory crime bosses. A big one. And he’s a very powerful man.”

  Kat swallows, her expression morphing to one of horror. “You think my mother was connected to the mob?”

  “It’s looking that way,” I admit. “But I’m trying to figure out how.”

  Kat sits down on the sofa and shakes her head. “So, her car accident...”

  “It could have been a mob hit,” I finish for her. “But I don’t know yet. That’s why this is important. Anything you can think of might help.”

  She leans back into the sofa and blows out a breath. “I’ll see what I can remember.”

  “Good girl.” I lean down and kiss her again, my tongue invading her mouth, and for a minute, I’m tempted to stay behind after all. But I know that I can’t. If Maxim gets even a hint that someone is sniffing around for him, he’ll disappear before I even get close.

  “I’ll be back.” I pull away reluctantly. “Take care of our boy.”

  “I will.” Kat offers me a dazed smile. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

  After sitting outside of the first address for an hour, I quickly come to the conclusion that this isn’t where Maxim is hiding out. The house is owned by his ex-girlfriend’s father, but so far, all I’ve seen are an older couple and a bunch of rug rats running around the place.

  I text Kat to check in, and she responds promptly as I drive to the second location. It’s a run-down single-level home squatting in the Elmwood neighborhood, and while it isn’t the place I’d choose to call home if I could help it, it definitely looks more like Maxim’s speed.

  For two hours, I stare at the peeling paint and front yard full of weeds. At first glance, it doesn’t even look like anyone actually lives here. But there’s a garbage bin on the sidewalk and letters in the mailbox.

  The problem is, I can’t stay camped out here all day. It’s past five already, and I don’t want to leave Kat and Josh alone for much longer. At the very least, I need to be back by bedtime.

  I grab my phone and pull up a Google search for some local bars in the neighborhood. If there’s one thing I know about Maxim, it’s that he likes his whiskey. I doubt that’s changed. The man was a sloppy fucking drunk.

  It’s the only lead I have to follow as I drive around the area, scoping out a few of the local bars. The first three turn up nothing, and I’m already considering it a lost cause. But there’s one more on the list, and when I pull into the parking lot, it seems like exactly the kind of place where he’d hang out. It’s barely a shack. A business hanging on by the skin of its teeth in a city that depends on drunks like Maxim to keep it afloat.

  I park the SUV and walk inside, and every head at the bar turns to study me when I take a seat. As I su
spected, these are all locals. The beer is cheap, and the stale peanut shells on the floor feel like home to many of them. But I don’t see Maxim. At least, not right away.

  The bartender asks me what I want, and I tell her nothing. When I stand to leave, that’s when I see the bathroom door swinging open down the hallway. It’s not a well-lit area, so I can’t make out the guy’s face until he stumbles into the glow of one of the neon signs. Just about the same time recognition sparks in my brain, he notices me, and the sneaky bastard pivots on his heel and bolts back down the hallway.

  Son of a bitch.

  I don’t know if anyone else has even noticed, but right now, I can’t be fucked with worrying about that as I take off after him. He slips out the rear exit door, and it slams shut in my face before I reach it. He’s ten, maybe fifteen steps ahead of me when I stumble out into the alley and catch him sliding around the corner.

  It’s dark, and I can’t see for shit when I go after him. But I don’t have to see to know the sound I just heard was him cocking a gun.

  “I don’t want to shoot you, Lev.” His voice is the only proof that it’s actually him. In the dark, I can barely make out his form huddled near the dumpster.

  “Then don’t,” I tell him. “I’m not here to fuck up your life. I just want to talk.”

  “Fucking talk,” he snorts. “Right. Is that what Vasily told you to say? And I’m supposed to swallow that bullshit?”

  “I’m not here for Vasily.” I take another hesitant step forward. “I’m here because of Vasily.”

  “Step the fuck off,” he clips out. “Or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out. I don’t care.”

  “You know me, Maxim.” I sigh. “You’ve known me since I was practically a kid. All I’m asking for is a few minutes. One conversation. Then I’ll leave here, and you’ll never have to see me again. Vasily will never know.”

  “Sorry, kid,” he murmurs. “But whatever bullshit you’re trying to sell me today, I ain’t buying. I know he wants me dead. I’m not stupid—”

  “He wants me dead too.”

  A cavernous wall of silence fills the space between us as he digests my confession. Honestly, I don’t know if there’s anything I can say at this point to make him believe me. He’s been on the run for years, constantly looking over his shoulder. I’m sure the paranoia is getting to him, and I can’t blame him for that. I’ve only been at it for a few days, and I already feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.

  “He wants to kill the mother of my son.” I force the words out. “Maybe my son too. Fuck if I know. It’s just me against his army. I started a fucking war, and I don’t know if I’ll even survive the week. That’s why I’m here. I need your help.”

  For a few long seconds, he doesn’t answer me. And I’m dead certain he’s going to tell me to fuck off again, but instead, he steps out into the light and gestures me back into the alleyway.

  “Show me proof. I’m not going to listen to anything you tell me without proof.”

  “Proof?” I repeat.

  Christ. What the fuck can I show him?

  Slowly, I retrieve the phone from my pocket, careful not to make any quick moves. Maxim watches me with calloused eyes and a face that’s aged well beyond his years. He’s only in his mid-fifties, but he looks closer to seventy right now.

  “This is a picture of my son.” I turn the phone screen so he can see it. “And this is his mother. Hopefully, one day, my wife. If we survive this week.”

  “Those could be anybody.” He shrugs. “Sorry, kid, but I can’t help you.”

  “You can talk to her,” I tell him. “Just give me a second.”

  Maxim watches me carefully as I dial Kat. To my relief, she answers on the second ring.

  “Lev, is everything okay?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.” I turn on the speakerphone. “I’m here with an old friend. And I just need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to tell him in your own words what happened with Vasily.”

  The other end of the line is quiet for a pause until she releases a breath. “Are you sure this is safe?”

  “It is,” I answer. “Please, just tell him. Everything in your own words.”

  Kat comes through for me, starting slowly. Explaining how we met. How she got pregnant and went on the run. How I found her, and then everything imploded. Inevitably, her story leads back to everything that happened at the safe house in Philly. When she’s done, she wraps it all up with a simple sentence. “And that’s pretty much where we’re at now.”

  Maxim is quiet, and I can’t read his expression. But I’m hoping that he’ll believe Kat, even if he can’t believe me.

  “I’m going to hang up now,” I tell her. “I’ll be back a little later, okay?”

  “Lev.” Her voice fractures. “Please be careful.”

  “I will,” I assure her. “We’ll be back together before you know it.”

  We both end the call, and I move my attention back to Maxim. He reeks of whiskey, but despite that, he seems to have his faculties in order.

  “If what she says is true, it sounds like you’ve really gotten yourself into a bind, kid.”

  “It is true.”

  “Regardless”—he sighs—“I don’t want to get involved. I left that world for a reason. I don’t need you bringing trouble back to my doorstep.”

  “I just need some answers. Give me one hour, and I’ll fuck off out of your life and you’ll never see me again.”

  “Sounds too good to be true.” He laughs sourly. “Fucking Christ.”

  “You know me,” I tell him. “I grieved for you. I believed you were dead. You were the only asshole in that place I liked.”

  Maxim scratches at his stubble and chuckles. “You better not make me fucking regret this, kid.”

  7

  Lev

  Maxim sits down in the recliner across from me, gun still clutched in his hand. We’re back at his place, and the state of his affairs is even sadder than I originally would have thought. The house is mostly just an empty shell, and in that aspect, it reminds me of my own place back in Philly. I understand the concept. When you might have to pick up and leave everything behind at a moment’s notice, there really isn’t any point in collecting things.

  “What happened between you and Vasily?” I ask.

  “What did he tell you happened?” he challenges.

  “Not a whole lot.” I shrug. “He came back to the club one night, said you were dead, and I’d need to run some extra jobs for him. That was the extent of it. He’s not exactly the kind of man you ask a lot of questions, as you know.”

  Maxim snorts. “Yeah, I do know. That was the fucking problem. I guess I just got sick of taking his orders. No explanations, no logic. I did what I was told for a long time, but when I started to ask questions, Vasily didn’t like it. He likes his soldiers deaf, dumb, and blind.”

  “But you weren’t,” I hedge. “Did you see something you shouldn’t have?”

  He shakes his head. “You first, kid. This isn’t a one-way street. You want me to trust you, there needs to be some give and take here.”

  I lean back into the sofa and consider where I should even fucking begin. Maxim isn’t in a position to do any real damage to me at this stage of his life. He has no more connections in my world, so he wants me to give him some insurance, and that’s understandable. But more than that, I’m hoping he will know something about what I have to tell him.

  “A little over four years ago, Vasily asked me to do a job. He wanted me to keep an eye on one of his connections, William von Brandt. He said he’d been talking to the feds. We roughed him up a bit, gave him a warning, but William didn’t listen. He stole a flash drive from Vasily, and shit hit the fan. I didn’t know what was on it because we couldn’t find it anywhere in the von Brandt house. But eventually, I got my hands on it, and I realized it was a list of names.”

  Maxim holds up a finger to stop me as he staggers into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of whiskey from the
cupboard. When he returns to his chair, he offers it to me, and I shake my head.

  “Now you’ve got my attention,” he says. “Go on.”

  “The list has a lot of names. Most of them didn’t mean anything to me. But I had a friend do some digging, and after connecting the dots, we realized that there was a neighbor in my mother’s apartment building on that list. A cop too. Both were killed not long after her.”

  “It’s a shame what happened to your mother.” Maxim cringes as he takes a swig from the bottle.

  “Andrei killed her.”

  “I know, kid.”

  I study him, waiting for him to say something else. It never occurred to me that Maxim would know about it, but it only makes sense. For as long as he worked for Vasily, he would have seen and heard a lot of shit.

  “Were you there?” I clip out.

  “Fuck no.” He glares at me. “I don’t run jobs on women, and Vasily knew that. After I fucked it up the first time, he never asked me again. I didn’t even have any idea who you were until he brought you into the club. By then, your mother was already dead.”

  “What do you mean you fucked it up the first time?” I ask.

  He rocks back and kicks his boot up onto his opposite knee, then takes another swig from the bottle and wipes his lips. “There was a woman. A long time ago. Vasily was using her as a pawn. She had an affair with Gleb Mikhailov and ran information back to Vasily. That arrangement worked out just fine until Vasily ran into some sort of complication with her. She tried to go into hiding, but Vasily found her a few years later. He wanted me to take care of it. But I didn’t realize she had a kid. The second I saw that, I backed the fuck out. I couldn’t do it. Regardless, it didn’t matter. He had it done anyway.”

  I shake my head, trying to process what he’s telling me. There’s no way he could be talking about Kat’s mother, but it’s too similar to discount. The words are rushing from my lips before my mind can even catch up.

  “Ciara March?”

  Maxim’s eyebrows shoot up. “How the hell did you know that?”