“Excuse me?”
“Your eyes, lover. They’re magnificent.” One thing she’d learn about him—if he thought something, he usually just said it.
Those magnificent eyes narrowed, and she pulled herself away from his hold once more to cross the room. First her hair, now her face. Maks felt his good humor drain away and his mouth tighten. He didn’t like when someone took his toys away.
“I’m quite sure my eyes are no more magnificent,” she said, sounding distinctly sarcastic, “than what you see when you look in the mirror.” Meaning she also thought his eyes were magnificent?
The rap of knuckles against the door made Maks straighten, his good humor restored as Gheorghe went over to allow the crew in. Vincente, Caleb, Alek, Gabriel, and Quan shrank the spacious room to the size of a shoe box.
With one eye on Sydney, who was coolly surveying her new guests, Maks said to Gabriel, “I thought you were going home.”
G knocked him on the shoulder in greeting, then said in a low voice, “I called the twins to house-sit after Alek texted saying V’s about to snap. Believe me—there isn’t much else that could have dragged me back out tonight.”
Vincente glowered over at them, expensive leather settling around his ankles as he came to a halt next to Gheorghe—they all hated secrets. But this one, at this time, was necessary. Maks got that. If V was as close to the edge as he appeared, the news about an innocent, fragile little baby coming into the midst of their sometimes-violent world might tip him over and cause a tantrum. When his cousin Mario had shared the news of his upcoming fatherhood, V had been incredulous. “You and Cindy are bringing a child into this world?” he’d blustered, instead of the “Congratulations, man,” his cousin should have received.
Guy was scarred, Maks thought, giving him a wink before moving in front of Gabriel, offering the Reaper his back. They were far enough away that their conversation would remain private. “I heard.” He felt no shame in admitting to Gabriel that he’d been eavesdropping. The boys knew he did so only to make sure everyone stayed safe. He grabbed the boss by the back of the neck and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. “Congrats, brother. I’m liking this news even better than you getting hitched.”
Gabriel didn’t bother asking how he knew. He just nodded. “Thanks, man. I’m having a hell of a time wrapping my head around it. My poor fucking wife. I’m gonna drive her nuts.”
“As you should, Papa. As you should.” Protecting what they considered theirs was the only way they knew. A woman he loved carrying his child? Fuck. Maks didn’t think he could handle that shit. Which was why he’d decided never to attempt it. “I’m assuming you haven’t told V.”
Gabriel sighed and ran a hand down the front of his steel-blue button-up, which was undone at the neck. Should’ve paired it with a gray tie, Maks thought, like the clotheshorse he was.
“I’ll tell him tomorrow. He doesn’t need the added pressure tonight. Because, you know, despite it being incredibly good news, with the way he’s been lately, he’s going to put a negative slant on it in his head. He’ll take it personally. The safety of my child will become his responsibility, no matter how much I try to convince him that it’s mine.”
Maks slapped him on the shoulder. “We’re on the same page. Keep it on the DL until the sun is shining and everyone’s happy.”
He turned and focused on his tiny sprite again to see she’d just finished a conversation with Vincente. As her dainty hand went behind the chrome backrest of the sofa, respect for her was born. Maks felt it settle in as a quiet hum sounded before a four-by-eight panel slid open to reveal a dozen screens with images of every corner of the club, front and rear entrances included, all being recorded onto an electronic hard drive set up on a bottom shelf.
He looked at the creator of the sweet setup and felt that jolt of energy hit him again when his gaze clashed with hers. Amethyst. Sydney Martin’s eyes were the color of amethyst. And right now, they were centered on him with a look so indifferent, so uninterested, Maksim couldn’t help but grin.
Challenge accepted, Australia.
The itch in Vincente’s skin just kept getting worse and worse as he watched one of the many screens set into the wall.
Sydney had pulled up the footage from the night before with no trouble, which had allowed them to see Nollan follow Nika into the club, not a dozen steps behind Vito and Alesio. Nika went to the bar, the boys remained a few feet away, and Nollan went off to the side to stand half-hidden behind a cage that housed a dancer. The two who’d bought Nika the drink came in ten minutes later, spoke briefly with Nollan—sonsofbitches!—and then perched down the bar from Nika to watch her for a while before finally approaching her. One of them had just slipped the note into her purse when Vincente came into the frame. He didn’t have to watch to know what happened next, but he did pay close attention to his image on the outside cameras showing him putting Nika into the Kombat at the curb. A white minivan hung a few car lengths back and pulled out directly after he did to follow him down the street.
“So he’s been on her,” Caleb said from behind him. “How long has he known where she is?”
Vincente didn’t answer because he couldn’t speak yet, faced with the knowledge that Nollan could have gotten Nika last night. Had he somehow made it past Alesio and Vito, Nika could be dead right now.
He stared straight ahead and let that sink in. If he thought his world was dark now, what would it be like if Nika were no longer in it?
Vincente turned and stalked away from the cluster of male bodies that somehow knew to get the fuck out of his way before he blew apart. He walked over and stood next to the closed door and just stared at the beige paint on the wall. A low discussion started up behind him about Nollan having picked up Nika’s scent before she’d even left the clubhouse.
Unsure how much time had passed, his eyes closed when he heard Gabriel’s voice at his back.
“Vincente?”
“I was distracted, G,” he said right away, needing to get the weight of responsibility off his chest so he could breathe again. “He was right in front of me, and I was too distracted by her to even see it.” He ran a rough hand over his jaw and turned to look at Gabriel in true confusion. “I don’t get it. How the fuck am I allowing this to happen?”
“Can I be honest with you? Without having to take one on the chin?”
He was just desperate enough at this point to say, “Yeah. Give it to me straight.”
“Does Nika want you?”
Thrown by the question—not what he’d expected to hear—Vincente pictured her as she’d been that morning, coming apart for him, pleading with him to allow her to give him the same pleasure. “Fuck me, but, yeah, seems that way.”
“Don’t sound so surprised, brother.” Gabriel laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “And here comes the control-yourself bit, but I think you should let her have you. Enjoy each other. Who knows? Maybe she needs that just as badly as you do. God knows neither of you have had it good lately. Could be that if you untangled your head from the sheets, you’d get a handle on everything else.”
Vincente wondered if he looked as poleaxed as he felt. What. The. Fuck. “Are you seriously telling me to have sex with your wife’s victimized friend?”
Gabriel’s face hardened at that. “No, you asshat. I’m telling you to give yourself and a woman who’s been through the shitter a good time. If she’s willing to give in to the attraction you both feel, why aren’t you?”
“Excuse me, Vincente?”
They both looked back to see Sydney attempting to get around Maksim. The idiot wasn’t moving.
“Cut the shit, Kirov. Now’s not the time,” Vincente barked, but Sydney just shook her head, as if dealing with five-year-olds was a common occurrence for her.
“Would you come back over here?” she said. “I know one of your guys.”
“Which one?” H
e and Gabriel went back to look at the screen.
Sydney pointed a long white-tipped fingernail at one of the drink buyers, a tattoo of a baby elephant on her wrist flashing. “This guy’s name is Darren Nollan. They call him Flash. He’s a—”
“Two-bit porn producer wannabe,” Maks finished. “Sorry, lover,” he said when Sydney looked up at him. “But I’ll take it from here. You’ve stolen enough of my thunder.” He turned to Vincente. “I was waiting to tell you. I got a hit on Nollan’s family. Found the cousin.”
Vincente’s memory pinged as the name registered. “Darren and Paul. The other insect is Paul.” The introductions from last night brushed through his mind.
“I got an addy,” Maks said, waving his phone in the air. “You want to move on it now?”
Fucking irreverent jackoff. “Actually, I thought maybe we could take a drive up to Atlantic City, maybe take in a show, play the wheel for a bit, a few hands of BJ.” Vincente’s voice was tight with strain as he thundered, “Of course we go now! What the fuck do you think?”
Maks went over and opened the door, motioning him out with a grin he seemed to be doing his best to smother.
The pounding of footsteps coming down the metal stairs drew interested looks from half the fucking club. But for the first time in a while, Vincente didn’t give a shit what it might look like to have seven large, obviously armed guys steamrolling through a packed and very public place.
In fact, he was counting on his and his crew’s sometimes uncivilized reputation to finish this for his redhead.
CHAPTER 17
Twenty-five minutes later they made barely a sound as they hauled ass up the back stairwell of a nondescript apartment building in Crown Heights, the same type found all over New York City. Gabriel grim and silent, SIG at his thigh. Quan calm and ready for whatever came at him. Alek, also steady and ready to play guard dog. Caleb, solid and looking pumped for some action—which he wasn’t going to get this round because the boss had partnered him with Alek as just a guard. Maksim was downstairs, grinning his idiot head off because he’d been given permission to engage. Micha hadn’t come along. He’d left them at the front of Pant, walking toward his Aston Martin, muttering something about crowds sucking the fun out of a kill.
And then there was Vincente, anticipation that they might actually be getting somewhere with this making him want to crawl the fuck out of his skin. He didn’t think for a minute they’d be lucky enough to find Nollan sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, but if they got their hands on the two flunkies, it wouldn’t take much for him and Maks to get them singing like canaries.
Gabriel opened the door at the top of the stairs and poked his head out, then motioned with two fingers for them to follow. They moved in a cluster to Unit 6A and surrounded the door, Alek covering the peephole with a finger before knocking. “FDNY. Fire down on floor two. Everyone out. Alarms are down.” His voice carried easily. Vincente just hoped it didn’t carry to the other units. All they needed was an audience.
There was a bang and then some cursing. “What the fuck? I don’t smell smoke,” a male voice grunted as the locks went.
Vincente hammered the door into the asshole as he cracked it open, knocking him back into the room so hard he went down and slid into the wall. Paul. Quan pounced on him like a deadly jungle cat, giving Vincente the opening to look for Darren.
Motherfuck! Out the fire escape the cocksucker went, just like Maks had predicted one of them would.
Vincente didn’t bother going after him but instead stood just inside the window and listened to the panicked shuffle as the idiot flew down the metal stairs. A high-pitched shriek a second later, followed by a text from Maks that was nothing but the name of his club, had Vincente smiling.
He turned and went over to the couch, where Quan had put their other captive.
“Recognize this guy, V?” Caleb asked with a small, spooky smile that was devoid of humor.
Vincente took a good look at the guy sitting there in his ratty hoodie. What the . . . ? This was the preppy bastard who’d nearly blown a hole in the back of Caleb’s head in the alley near the clubhouse. How the hell had he not recognized him last night? Well, both times he’d seen him had been high-stress situations. Dark alley, then a dark club. Strobe lights. And to be honest, he’d barely looked at what he’d thought were simple drink buyers last night because Nika had held most of his attention. Yet another of his most recent fuckups. Maybe G was right and he should throw in the towel. It was either take her once and for all, or get her killed with his carelessness.
“You wanna come with?” he said to Caleb as he reached out and jerked Paul to his feet.
“Where you headed?”
“Rapture’s basement.” He put his mouth near Paul’s ear and said quietly, “Rapture’s soundproof basement.”
“I dunno nuthin’,” Paul whimpered, blue eyes moist.
“No? Where’s Kevin Nollan holing up?”
“I dunno where he goes when he leaves here. Darren knows. He knows everything. I think it’s a hotel, but I dunno which one or where it is. And they been talkin’ about a building somewhere in the neighborhood lately, but not t’ me. I just overheard them. That’s all I know. Please lemme go, man. Please! I’m just in it for the cash.”
“What cash?”
“Kevin said he’d give me a hundred bucks to lure the redhead to the alley behind the club last night. We didn’t get the money, though, because you showed. So it’s even, right?”
Vincente jammed his thumb under the front of the guy’s ribs and hooked on, pulling on at least three, he was that deep under. A tattooed hand, Caleb’s judging by the ODMC on the knuckles, covered the guy’s mouth when he screamed in pain.
“Even doesn’t exist for you anymore,” Vincente murmured as images of what they could have done to Nika in that alley crowded into his head. “You sure you don’t know where to find Kevin?”
The bulging eyes and violent shake of Paul’s blond head, face screwing up from the agony of his rib cage being pried from his body, let Vincente know he’d gotten whatever he was going to get. This one was no good to him. He leaned in until he could smell the fear coming off the guy.
“You got yourself mixed up in something so far out of your league it’s really fucking funny. Too bad you won’t have a chance to laugh it up.” He released his hold and stepped off, surprised when the guy stayed on his feet.
“You guys can take off,” he said to Gabriel, Quan, and Alek, who were waiting by the door. “Caleb and I will take this one—” Vincente paused when he felt something brush up against his ankle. He looked down and frowned when he saw a little pup.
“Hey, a puppy.” Caleb stepped over and bent to pet the mangy-looking thing. He got a pathetic little growl and a paltry nip on the hand for his troubles. “Easy there, buddy,” he murmured, trying again, only to get the same treatment.
Alek scoffed. “Just pick him up,” he said as he came forward. The pup shoved his nearly exposed ribs into Vincente’s ankle, as though asking for protection. He stepped back; the pup followed. Big fucking head on the skinny thing. Judging by the colors, he’d have to say rotti, or something close.
“Come here, little guy,” Alek said softly in Russian, extending his hand for the runt to sniff. He got a growl, no bite, but that was it.
Poor little thing looked scared shitless, tail buried between his legs, head bowed, eyes lowered. Reminded Vincente of Nika. Browbeaten. Overwhelmed. He bent and slipped his hand under the thing’s concave belly to lift him up. No growling, biting, scratching, just a dry lick to the chin. Vincente felt his heart shift. What the fuck was it with him and strays?
“Likes you,” Gabriel murmured from beside him as he lifted his hand to touch the pup’s ear. “What the fuck? Cigarette burn?” He turned to Paul, his features contorted.
“Wasn’t me! I don’t smoke! It was Darren!”
Gabriel’s ham-size fist snapped forward in a blur to shatter the cartilage in the guy’s nose. Blood instantly sprayed. “You let it happen, you asshole,” Gabriel spat. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to stand up for those who can’t stand for themselves?”
Caleb grabbed Paul and led him out with something jammed so deep into the guy’s spine he walked as if he were carrying twins.
The rest of them followed. Vincente tucked his new canine friend into the huge pocket of his coat. He felt a shuffle, a nudge to the thigh, and then . . . nothing. The little guy didn’t even squirm, which made him sick because that probably meant the pup was used to being stuck in dark, tight spaces with no way out. Fucking cruel assholes.
Well, from now on, the malnourished little thing was going to get all the attention he could handle. And Nika was going to get some company. He smiled to himself. She’d mentioned a love of animals. No doubt this would cheer her up.
“What are you going to do with the pup?” Caleb asked when it was just the two of them in the alley behind the building. The Escalade had just taken off, and Paul was sitting pretty in the backseat of the Kombat.
“Thought I’d give him to your sister.” Vincente had his hand in his pocket and was scratching between the little guy’s ears.
“Good idea. Listen, V.” Caleb shuffled around, and Vincente braced himself because he knew when the asking of a favor was coming. “You mind letting me do this with Kirov?”
Fuck. Pecking order again? He sighed roughly. “Can you handle it?” Torturing someone for information wasn’t for the faint of heart. Especially the way Maks did it.
“Fuck, yeah. I need to do something for her.” He swiped at his hair, nearly scalping himself. “I don’t know what’s doing with you two, and I’m not judging,” he reassured him, hands up, “but it seems like you comfort her better than anyone. So, if I can’t do that, at least give me this.”
The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2) Page 25
