by SR Jones
With Kyrylo dead, two things become a problem.
One, will Allyov believe I had nothing to do with this? I was with him, but he might think I’ve sent some of my men to do the deed.
Two, will he still need me? And if he doesn’t, is Violet still safe?
What should be a moment of savage relief at the death of the motherfucker, is instead a moment of profound worry.
“I didn’t kill him. It goes against everything I’m working for right now.”
“You wanted him dead, though, right? You told me he was one of the people on your list, and now he’s dead.”
“How?” I demand.
“Shot, by sniper rifle. No one saw who did it, and none of his protection could do any damn thing about it.”
Fuck, I’ve got to call Allyov. I pull my phone out and dial.
“Who are you calling?” Liam tenses his jaw as he stares me down. “I got this from a high up friend in Vice in London. You can’t go telling people this yet; they’re trying to keep this thing fucking contained.”
I show him the finger and turn my back.
Allyov picks up on the third ring.
“We were just talking about you. Donna won’t stop going on about this wedding.”
“Call me back on the burners.”
I jog up the stairs, more than aware of Liam, and also now Violet too, at my heels.
The phone rings from the desk in my study, and I pick up and speak with no preamble.
“You need to be extra careful, or even take a fucking holiday, Sergei.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Kyrylo’s been hit. Sniper. Only just found out, and no, it wasn’t me.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath. “Shit.”
“Yep.”
“Give me the fucking truth, Andrius. Did you have anything to do with this? Ask any of the men you use to do a job for you to get rid of the bastard?”
“No fucking way. You had my word, and I didn’t break it.”
“Must be hard, though, walking away from what he did to your family.”
“Yes, but it’s for a greater good. Us, the business, Violet. I was still planning to take him out,” I say truthfully, “at a time in the future when it wouldn’t affect you, me, or the business. I would have talked to you first, though. Partners, right?”
I hold my breath. The last fucking thing I need is Allyov turning his back on me now and leaving me out in the cold, twisting in the wind as the full weight of Kyrylo’s gang of thugs comes after me.
Kyrylo’s second is a nasty piece of work called Boris ‘Popeye’ Popov. Popeye because of the size of his arms and his surname. Big, lots of muscle, layered with fat these days. With wispy red hair and the palest blue eyes against scarred and pock-marked skin, he looks like something out of a horror story.
“We are still partners, aren’t we, Allyov.” I frame it as a statement with some threat in there because if he thinks he can fuck me over now, I’ll take him down before anything happens to me or mine.
“Yes, of course. I need you still, Andrius. We have a business to run, to transform. This matters to me. I need it to be legit. My son, he can’t run things the way they have been. He’s a mess. And this way, you can run it if anything happens to me, and his share can be in trust to ensure he has a good life, and my daughter too.”
I think for a moment, getting my head into gear, doing what I do best. Protection protocols and making sure Allyov will live to breathe another day.
“Okay, listen, this is what you’re going to do. Put word out, right now that this isn’t on you. Don’t worry about me. I’ll do the same. Then pack. You and Donna go somewhere safe. Get out of the country, go to the homeland. Be with your wider family; they’ll find it harder to get to you there. Take Misha or Alexei, and when you get there contact Nik. He will coordinate security for you out there. Whoever you leave here, Misha or Alexei, will need to work with me on securing the businesses in case of any reprisal attacks. I’m thinking mostly of the restaurant and the club. It’s not going to be worth it to someone to go to the hassle of firebombing one of the casinos or gambling shops. Take the burner, call me on it and only on it. Don’t fucking email, don’t text.”
“I want you with me,” he says.
“I’m going to sort things out here,” I tell him.
“How?”
“By meeting with Boris.”
It might be a fucking death sentence, but something tells me Boris will want to talk. Why would he want a war he doesn’t have to have? Particularly with us stripping out the shady side of things. It means he can run his operation from London with no competition from us. We can work together on the arms side of the business possibly.
“He might shoot you as soon as you walk into the room.”
He might, but it will mean Violet and Justina will be safe because if I’m dead, Boris has no reason to go after them. I trust Liam to do as he’s promised and get them a new start.
It will mean Allyov and Donna are safe too.
“I’ll take the risk. It’s my place to. One thing, though. You swear now, you leave Violet alone if anything happens to me. I’ll have laid my life on the line to keep you and yours safe, and you’ll owe me. Enough to completely forgive anything she’s done. You swear it now. And you fucking break this promise, I will send someone for you.”
I’m taking a big risk. He won’t take kindly being spoken to in this way, but I’m about to walk into the dragon’s fucking den for him.
“I swear, I won’t come after your girl, whatever happens. She’s safe.”
“Good. Call me when you’re back in the fields.”
It’s code for the area he’ll be heading to in Russia. Rural, on acres of land, protected by dogs, fences, and land mines around the periphery. His dogs are so well trained they don’t wander into the mined area. I always thought him an overly paranoid fucker, but it pays to be prepared. If it weren’t for the fact it would get me locked up for life over here, I’d be tempted to do the same to my little bit of land.
I turn to the doorway to see a menagerie of people all waiting and listening to me. Great.
“Violet, come with me.”
I walk out the door and take her hand.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m teaching you how to shoot, now,” I tell her.
“How will I buy one, though? Guns are illegal,” she says, and for the first time in ages I crack a smile.
“Baby, we’re beyond little things like legalities now.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Liam says.
“Yes, do.” I shoot him a filthy look, but I can’t deny I’m glad he and Ethan are here.
“Do me a favor,” I say to Ethan. “Set some target practice up in the field beyond the back garden.”
“What guns do you have?” Ethan looks like a kid who has discovered his friend has a huge box of Legos.
“A few.” I have a fuck ton. What you want to use to put a bullet in the back of someone’s head, up close and personal, isn’t the same as you want to use for self-defense.
My twenty-two is pretty handy for taking someone out with a back of the head shot, not for stopping an irate home intruder in his tracks with a one-two to the chest.
For now, I want Violet to learn how to use a concealed carry, and I want it to be powerful enough to stop someone big, but not so heavy she’ll struggle with it.
I get the Smith and Wesson .380 I’d bought for Justina, before realizing she liked something bigger, and head outside to the field beyond the garden, where Ethan is busy setting up some targets we can practice on. I’m going to start her with this. Easy rack, slide and load, and then move her onto something bigger. A forty maybe. She needs something powerful enough to stop a big man in his tracks.
This should suit Violet for the first time. Smaller grip, lighter.
“I’m not sure about this.” Violet turns to me, and I stop and notice the freckles on her nose. It’s as if everyth
ing slows for a moment. The late afternoon sun, the way the breeze ruffles the ends of her hair, and those damn freckles.
Oh, God, I want to wrap her in cotton wool and protect her from this life, but I can’t. Her life isn’t normal. Can’t be because of who I am, but also who she is.
She’d have possibly lived a quiet, ordinary life if she hadn’t had her moment of crazy when she decided to track Allyov down, but now, for better or worse, she’s part of this, and people know who she is.
“Set some targets up for you,” Ethan says.
“Great. Come here.” I pull Violet in to me, between my legs and hold her arms straight out. She stiffens, so I reassure her. “You’re not going to shoot it right now, zaika. Feel it in your hands, that’s all. Get used to the weight of it.”
I place the gun in her hands and let her get used to holding it.
Then I tell her about it. I explain why I picked this gun. That it’s easy to load, easy to rack, light recoil.
Then I tell her to watch me use it. Watch how it reacts when I fire it.
“It’s not so loud, but wear some ear protection so you won’t be frightened, okay?”
I hand her the ear muffs, and she puts them on and steps to the side. Ethan pulls her farther to the side.
“Watch where the cartridges go,” he tells her. “How the gun moves and reacts. There’s nothing to be scared of, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure you won’t have to ever use it, but if you do, it can save your life in the world you’re in now.”
She nods, her skin pale, but she watches as I load the gun and rack it.
It feels so small and light in my arms compared to my Colt 1911 .45 caliber, which is my favorite gun of all. It will stop anyone in their tracks.
When it comes to rifles, of course, I prefer Russian.
She’s watched me go through a magazine, and I show her how to take the gun apart. It’s so simple on this model it shouldn’t put her off. And the ease of use means my arthritic aunt can fire this baby.
“I can’t believe I’m learning to fire an illegal firearm,” Violet mutters as I show her for the second time how to take apart and put back together the .380.
“I can’t believe I’m a party to it,” Ethan adds. “But Andrius is right. If Isla were in the position you are, I’d want her to know. No two ways about it. He’s doing the best thing for you.”
“Where’s Liam?” I ask him.
“Dunno, probably with Justina.”
“Does she know how to use a gun?” he asks.
“Yeah. Wanted to learn, she’s been through a lot of shit.”
His phone goes, and he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles.
Holding the screen in front of him, he answers it. “Hey.”
A woman’s voice floats out of the phone onto the breeze, and I realize he’s got it on Facetime, hence the looking at the screen.
“Isla, say hello to Violet.” He turns the screen, and Violet gives a shy smile and a wave.
“Hi. Ethan told me some about you, says we could be sisters. I said we ought to have a coffee one day soon if you’re up for it?”
“That would be lovely,” Violet says, and she beams at the phone as if Isla has offered her the world.
Once more my heart does the odd tugging thing it does so much around her.
“You really do look like me in a lot of ways. Our eyes are different, but we’re alike in so many other ways it is uncanny.”
“Yeah, and you’re both bookworms.” Ethan butts in.
I’m starting to not hate him. I can tell his interest in Violet is purely platonic. He’s too head over heels with Isla to see Violet any other way. But because she reminds him of his wife, he wants to protect her. And that works in my favor. I’ll nurture the feeling in him and Isla as much as I have to. Anything to help keep Violet safe in the coming storm.
“What the fuck?”
I groan. The raw, throaty voice means only one person. Mr. GQ himself. Luka.
“Have we gone back in time to the Wild West.” He indicates the temporary shooting range Ethan has fashioned, as he walks over and raises one brow.
“Gotta go, Isla. I’m leaving now, so be seeing you soon.”
Ethan hangs up. “See you guys tomorrow. Liam’s pulling a double shift and staying tonight. He’ll need a room as he’ll sleep over, but it means he’s here if shit goes down.”
“Thanks, Ethan,” Violet says.
“No worries. See you tomorrow fuckface,” he says to Luka who gives him the finger.
I start to clear up the empty cartridges, and I turn to tell Violet she can have her turn tomorrow when I catch her watching Luka squinting into the lowering sun, and a burst of jealousy burns acrid in my gut.
She turns to me with a smile, but it turns to a frown. “What?”
“Nothing,” I mumble. No way am I going to be that jealous asshole.
She looks at Luka and then at me, and a small smile plays over her full lips.
“Come on.” She takes my hand in hers, and we head toward the house, Luka still looking out over the fields.
“You’re more beautiful than him, you know?”
I snort because I’m not beautiful. I’m rotten. Inside where it counts.
“No.” She stops walking so I have to look at her. “You are, Andrius. Luka is a good-looking man, and I was thinking how nice a picture of him looking at the sunset would be for his wife, that’s all. Nothing more. I don’t see him in any sort of sexual way.”
“Oh?”
“No, you’ve obliterated anyone else in that sense, Andrius. You might as well have totally wiped every other man from the face of the earth for all the interest I have in them. I only see you.”
Then she gives me a sad smile, and I don’t understand the forlornness of it. But before I can ask her, she goes ahead of me and disappears into the house.
Chapter Eight
Violet
Andrius is busy for the next few days, and Justina is on a mad shopping stint. Putting her heartbreak off by maxing out Andrius’ credit cards, I presume. It means she’s either asking one of the guys to tail her somewhere, or holed up in the living area watching shopping channels and ordering crap left, right, and center.
I take advantage of it all to ask Ethan for a huge favor. He’s offered to help me in any way he can, and so I take advantage. I ask him to teach me proper self-defense, not the shit I learned at the community hall, but stuff I can use if I am ever in serious danger. Trouble is, Ethan says I have to learn to be prepared to really maim or even kill someone. The guys I might be facing aren’t going to be your average attacker. So he’s been teaching me some pretty nasty stuff.
We’ve spent over an hour each day on it, and I’m already learning it’s got nothing much to do with size and weight. In fact, you can use an attacker’s weight against them, if you know what you’re doing.
Ethan says the things I’m learning aren’t based on any one discipline but a mish-mash of different things including some Krav Maga and Judo. He also told me, eyes all squinty and serious, Andrius would know just as lethal shit, and then asked again if I was okay.
I am. I believe Andrius is remorseful for what he did, but I won’t ever allow myself to be in a position to be so weak again.
With the training with Ethan, and the training I’m doing with Andrius using guns, I’m beginning to feel as if I can defend myself. Although Andrius and I are having a bit of a disagreement about the gun issue. He’s moved on from the one he started me with and wants me to use this bigger thing. No way. I’m not comfortable.
He and Luka ended up in a heated debate, and now I’m learning with a Ruger 9mm because both men agree it is light enough for me to handle, but it will put someone down more effectively.
I hated the idea of using a gun at first, but now … now, the new bad-ass me is determined to keep myself safe going forward.
Andrius is patient as anything when he teaches me. He never gets pissed off when I get confused with how to assemble t
he gun all over again. Instead, he simply shows me once more. I’m missing him, truth be told. I barely get to see him, except for at night when he comes to what he now calls our room and takes me in a myriad of different ways.
Last night, though. Last night he did something he’s not done before, and maybe I’m imagining it. Hoping for it. But I swear last night he made love to me.
We were kissing and then he was inside me, and it was slow, sensual, gentle even. We simply moved against one another, breathing into one another as he kissed me. When I came, it was soft, a spring breeze compared to the usual storms he creates in me, but I felt torn down by it. By the way he held me as he found his release at the same time, the way he looked at me, his eyes darker than usual in the dim light of the room.
When it ended, he stayed inside me, holding me, before slipping free, turning me onto my side, and pulling me into him, spooning me.
I’d fallen asleep that way, but when I woke this morning, I was cold, and his side of the bed was empty.
After taking a shower, I head down the stairs and see Ethan and Luka in the hallway. The guys change it up so I’m never sure which one or two of them are going to be around.
There’s usually only one if Andrius is here, so with a sinking heart, I wonder if he’s gone again for the day.
But Ethan grins at me.
“There you are. Luka is going to stay here with Andrius and Justina, and we’re going out.”
“We are?”
“Yeah, coffee shop a couple miles from here, in a garden center. Isla is going to meet us there. She wants to have that chat.”
“Correction.” I turn at Andrius’ deep voice and swallow hard.
He’s wearing workout gear. Soft sweatpants that highlight his big thighs, and a muscle tank showing off his sweaty, ripped arms. I want to climb all over him but I restrain myself. He must see the want on my face, though, because his eyes darken, and his lips twitch into a tiny hint of a smile.
“We are going, as you said the other day, Ethan. I’m coming too. Luka can stay here with Justina, and Ethan and I will take you to meet Isla.”
