Escape: A Mob Stepbrother Romance

by Snow, Lucy

  He had found me.

  “Open up,” he said from outside the door, staring at me, a big smile on his face. “Is delivery man.”

  I didn’t have anywhere to run. There was no other way out the cottage. I ran back to the kitchen. And got the biggest knife that I could find, holding it in front of me as I step back towards the door. “Stay away from me!” I cried, “I have a knife!”

  He looked at my knife like a jeweler appraises a stone in front of him, and then focused on me. “Is nice knife.” The blonde man tapped against the window of the door. Tapped with his own knife. “My knife bigger. Open door. Or, I open door.”

  Shit. That wasn’t a question. I didn’t know what to do, and the phone was on the other side of the room. I realized I’d broken out into a cold sweat, my adrenaline racing and making it feel like time was moving very slowly.

  I started backing away from the door, eager to get to the phone as soon as possible and call for help. Ronan had left his number on a piece of paper next to it, so I could get in touch with him.

  “Stop.” The man on the other side of the didn’t speak loudly, but there was a command in his voice, a command that said if I didn’t listen to him, there would be trouble. And it said all of that without saying more than one word.

  I froze, stopped by just that one word. I realized at that moment that my eyes had not moved from his, and I was unable to look away. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Go nowhere. No phone.” He brought up his knife and tapped against the window, three times this time. Then he smiled. “Go ahead, make call. We see which faster, help or knife.”

  He had me over a barrel; I didn’t know what to do. I could run and hide somewhere in the house, but he could easily find me. Could I dive out a window without him knowing what I was doing or where I would emerge? No, the sound would be too loud, he’d know instantly.

  Plus, I wouldn’t want to give him any reason to fly off the handle; I’d seen what he’d done when he got mad at even the slightest thing - Greg had paid for it with his life, and I wasn’t about to do the same, if I could avoid it.

  All these thoughts raced through my head in an instant while I stood like a statue in fear. I felt the sweat starting to drench my clothes, and I wished I was anywhere else in that moment.

  “Open door,” he said from the other side, shaking me out of my fear-based paralysis long enough for me to lurch forward automatically and reach for the door. I closed my hand around the knob and took a deep breath before turning it slowly, and pushing the door open.

  He had stepped back and let the door open in front of him, but all the while his eyes followed mine and I saw him playing with the knife, holding it in one hand and testing the edge with the other, running his thumb lightly across the blade. I shuddered each time he did it, almost wincing from the imagined pain, but he didn’t seem to feel it at all.

  I backed up as soon as the door opened, backed up till my back collided with the tiled counter and I had nowhere else to go. He came in the house slowly,Giving quick glances around the room, as if he wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any surprises, before settling back to focus on me, the grin on his face never wavering even for a second.

  “Nice place. Feels like home.”

  I managed to find my voice just in time to say, “I’m glad you like it,” with as much sarcasm as I could muster given the circumstances. My guest, if I could call him that, didn’t seem to take any notice, and steps toward me, as if you are an old friend.

  An old friend with a giant knife in his hand.

  As he came closer I inched my way around the counter, trying to put as much space between us as I could. He knew what I was doing, and his smile got bigger as he got closer, but he didn’t try and come around the counter, letting me have a little bit of separation between us. I guess they were small things to be thankful for, even when you had a murderer in your house.

  We stood like that, not saying a word, with the counter the only barrier between us. I didn’t know what to do, And I didn’t know what he would do next. That scared me more than anything else. I knew what this man was capable of, I had seen it with my own eyes, and now to have him here in this house, was nowhere for me to go, and Ronan so far away, I felt the fear well up and paralyze me all over again.

  The man smiled even wider, as if he could smell the fear on me, and since my growing sense of abject horror. “Relax. Plenty of time. No rush.”

  He looked around, noticing the table and chairs and quickly moved toward them, sitting himself down in such a way that he could see all the exits to the room, including the front door, and me as well. He put the knife on the table, and I watched the light of the room shine off of it. “Keep tools clean good. Never know when time to use.”

  This guy knew exactly what to say to make me more scared than I’d ever been. That was quite a skill. “What are you doing here?”

  “Came to ask you same question. What you doing here?”

  I didn’t even know how he’d found me, but somehow he had, and I knew right then and there that even if I survived his visit I couldn’t stay here much longer. Whatever safety I thought I had here was gone and given how easily he found me, it had been an illusion from the start.

  I couldn’t really hide anything from him, and I wasn’t about to spin some elaborate web of excuses. “I’m hiding here from you.”

  “Not doing good job. Not too difficult to find.”

  “I’m seeing that now.”

  He looked around, out the window and then at the clock next to the microwave. “Is early. Make breakfast.” At first I couldn’t tell if that was a question or statement, but from his look it became clear that it was a statement.

  He wanted me to make him breakfast. I realized at that moment that I was starving myself, that him showing up like this unannounced and totally unexpected made me so scared that I was hungry all over again.

  Without another word I started gathering ingredients from the kitchen, trying to keep my eyes on him as much as I could while I cooked. He was on the other side of the room, after all, so I was reasonably sure that he wouldn’t hurt me. At least until breakfast was over. I also kept looking at the phone, wondering if I could get there and dial fast enough before he got to me.

  It wouldn’t matter, though. No matter who I called, they wouldn’t arrive in time to save me from. The visions of Greg crumpling under the weight of this man’s bullets echoed in my head, and kept me from doing anything that might set him off, and thus anything that might help save me.

  I turned on the stove, and made us both some eggs and toast. The man leaned back in his chair and watched me, still running his fingers over the blade of his life every minute or so. I felt my cheeks burn as he watched me, and I tried to figure out what he was thinking, but I was too scared to actually come out and ask him. He gave me no help, watching silently.

  When the toast and eggs were done I brought them to the table, along with two plates. After I sent the eggs down, I started to serve him, but he raised a hand and stopped me. “Let me.” He moved the knife over to his left, to a place I couldn’t easily reach it without diving across the table, but still within his reach, and then he stood up and served us both eggs on top of our toast.

  I sat down to the weirdest meal of my life. Never had I ever dreamed that I would be eating with the man that I had seen kill my ex-boyfriend, and who would been searching for me all this time since. I didn’t think they made a Hallmark card for that.

  The man took a few bites without hesitation, and then smiled at me. “Use good. Cooking scared not so bad, yes?” He threw his head back and laughed before picking up his toast and taking another bite.

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just kept eating. I could barely taste the food in my mouth, I was so on edge. Just being in the same room as this guy made my skin crawl, and if there had been any way that I could see for me to escape, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.

  Unfortunately, I just couldn’t see an
y, And I hadn’t had the foresight to poison the food. Not that I, you know, would ever do that, or know how to do that.

  Then I noticed that he was staring at me. “My name Arkady. You’ve heard of me?”

  I shook my head. “Never heard of you. What do you want with me?” I probably already knew the answer, but I did want to hear him say it, even in his broken English.

  “Want talk.” He looked down at his food. “And eat.”

  “You came all this way for breakfast? Wouldn’t it have been easier to find a diner, or a McDonald’s?”

  He waved his hand away, dismissing my ideas. “Not so far. And home-cooked always better.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” There was no warmth in my voice at all. It was like a dagger made of ice.

  “Cook scared, food tastes better for me.” He paused. “Probably not as good for you.”

  “You’re very perceptive.”

  He leaned forward, and I leaned back is a response. “You see just as much.” He licked his lips. “You at warehouse. You see everything.” His eyes gleamed, and he looked more scary in that moment than when he’d had the knife in his hand. “But I see you.”

  I wanted to run, I wanted to jump out of a window or dive through the door, and run until I couldn’t run anymore. I didn’t even have to run toward Ronan, I just wanted to be somewhere else.

  Arkady must’ve known that’s what I was thinking, my eyes shifting back and forth, while I weighed my chances and opportunities, because he took that moment to press his hand coldly against my wrist, holding it against the table. “Don’t run. Conversation could so far. Run and get complicated.”

  I was stuck. “I didn’t see anything.” I had to convince them that I hadn’t seen what I’d seen. But I didn’t know what he had done to Greg.

  “At least say you there.” Shit. I had just about admitted that I was in the warehouse that night. I nodded, deflating a little bit. “That’s good. Progress. What you do now?”

  “I want to get away from here. Out of the city. I want to get away from you.”

  Arkady setback in his chair, done with his food. “Is good idea. This city no good for you.” The way he said it made it sound like a command. He was telling me the city was no longer safe for me.

  “Your friend broke our agreement. What happened necessary. Is not personal. Is business. Understand?”

  No, of course I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand any business in which people got shot at and killed, no matter what the terms of the deal were, and no matter what level of shadow they had to operate in. None of this made any sense to me, but I had seen enough. I just wanted to get away.

  I nodded. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. I don’t want to have anything to do with that. That was between the two of you, I just want to leave. I want to forget all about this city.”

  “Is good to forget. You forget. I remember. And I remember how fun killing your friend was. You do well remember I remember that.”

  I nodded again. His point was abundantly clear, despite his tenuous grasp on English grammar.

  Arkady looked around again, as if she was appreciating the cottage. “Would not have guessed Ronan lived this way. Ending him more fun knowing this.”

  He let go of my arm, and I stood up from the table immediately, picking up both our plates and taking them to the sink as Arkady watched, moving the knife closer to him again.

  When I was done, I stayed on the other side of the counter, trying to keep as much distance between us as I could. Arkady stood up and came towards me, coming around the counter and pressing himself up against me. I was backed up against the wall, and I looked around and down, trying to pick up anything that I could to defend myself, but there was nothing in sight or reach.

  Arkady look down at me from just a few inches away, and I could smell his musk. “Don’t stay in city too long. Ronan and you done playing house.”

  Just as abruptly as he had pressed himself against me, Arkady stepped away and headed towards the door. I slumped against cabinets behind me, still tense, but already relaxing as he moved away from me.

  He put his hand on the door knob, but turned back to me before he opened it. “Don’t tell Ronan about visit. If do,” he smiled, “I come back. With bigger knife.”

  And then he was gone, just as quickly as he had arrived. I felt the tears brimming, and I didn’t make any attempt to stop them, running toward the door and locking it behind him, though at the same time, now I knew just how futile that was.

  How had I gotten myself into this kind of mess? And how was I supposed to get myself out of it? I had tried to escape more than once, by myself, and it hadn’t worked. I felt like the walls of even the small cottage for closing around me, and they know where I can go.

  Then the thought hit me. I needed to rely on Ronan. I didn’t want to, I didn’t like the idea of depending on someone else like that, but I didn’t see any other way to get out of this alive and relatively safe without his help. I knew that he helps me a ton already, just give me a place to stay, but that wasn’t enough anymore.

  Arkady had called it “playing house,” and he was right, that’s exactly what we’ve been doing. But that wasn’t in a cut it anymore. Not now that Arkady knew that I was here, and knew that Ronan was sheltering me.

  I had to get out of town. And I needed Ronan’s help to do that. The question was, would he even helped me? He had his own life to live, and like it or not, he had to deal with Arkady. Was saving me worth jeopardizing whatever relationship his family and Arkady’s family had?

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to that question, but I was backed into a corner, and I needed to ask.

  Chapter 17 - Ronan

  I was in my office when the call came. I had them added to my desk phone’s memory, so the caller ID showed who it was. After the first ring, I glanced at the readout, and side, saving and closing the document I was working on.

  As the phone continued to ring, I sat back in my chair and cleared my thoughts, trying to achieve a moment of peace before I picked up the phone. It kept ringing, and I knew it would keep ringing until I picked up.

  Finally I took a deep breath, and pick up the phone, bringing the receiver to my ear. “Detective Breckenridge, so good to hear from you again.”

  The gruff voice on the other end of the phone caught itself before speaking, like Breckenridge was surprised that I knew who was when I picked up. “Always on point with you, Ronan. Don’t you ever take a break?”

  “Not if I can help it, Detective. And coming from one of the city’s finest, that’s quite a compliment. What can I do for you this fine afternoon?”

  “I’m coming over. I just wanted to give you a heads up, in case you wanted to clean up before I got there.”

  I grinned, enough that it was clear in my voice over the phone. “Why, detective, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ll see you soon.” I heard Breckenridge chuckle before I hung up the phone.

  I thumbed the intercom. “Sam?” Within a few seconds, Sam had acknowledged. “Breckenridge is coming by a few minutes.” Senate knowledge again in the conversation was over. I glanced out the window down to the main floor, and saw, to my complete lack of surprise, nothing change as Sam relayed the news the staff.

  The police might not believe this, but Pulse was actually a well run and completely above board operation. Sure, the family was deeply involved in some shady shit here and there, but I had made sure when I was put in charge that at least the flagship of our nightlife operation was going to be entirely squeaky clean and on the up and up. In an organization like this, it really helps to have clean businesses, ones that invited scrutiny and investigation by the authorities.

  It made it much easier to hide all the other stuff in the darkness when the lights of the clean stuff were so bright and so visible.

  And now the police were on their way. Detective Breckenridge was in their major crimes division. We had seen more and more of him in the last few month
s. His group investigated bigger and more serious and more violent crimes, as well as kept tabs on the major gangs and criminal organizations in the city. I didn’t much care to have the family lumped in with street-level gangs, but to the police we were all the same, even if we were suits and operated legitimate businesses.

  Perhaps, that was why the police had so much trouble dealing with us. Maybe if they took the time to treat us with the proper respect, we could come to a mutual arrangement that would satisfy both parties.

  To be fair, though, I had a healthy respect for the police and what they did, even if what I did was frequently at odds with their best interests. Whereas I did what I did to make money, to be successful, and to wield power over others, the police operated seemingly on just a sense of justice, and doing the right thing.

  It was noble, I thought, but a little misguided. There simply wasn’t enough upside for me to seriously consider living a life like that. I didn’t see any reason to put myself in the danger that the police did for such a small reward as people’s respect, and these days even that respect was in short supply.

  The intercom went off, and Sam’s voice came over when I tap the button. “Breckenridge is here, boss,” Sam said.

  “I’ll come down.” I looked at my computer screen again to make sure that everything was closed and I stood up, buttoning my jacket and going downstairs to greet the detective.

  Down on the main floor, I saw that Breckenridge had brought a friend with him. Clearly another detective, and a complement to Breckenridge himself.

  The detective I’d worked with before was tall and stocky, and I remember him telling me that he had played linebacker in college at some small school. In contrast, his partner looked almost sickly, thin and wiry, his eyes shifting back and forth as he took In Pulse for what looked like the first time. I didn’t take him for a regular customer.

  I walked up to Detective Breckenridge and put out my hand, taking his offered. “Detective Breckenridge, what a nice surprise. Just passing by?”

  Breckenridge laughed, playing alone. “You know, Ronan, I never get to see this place at night, so I have to make do and see it during the day.”