The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2)

by Nancy Haviland

  She could give him that. “I am kind of hungry.” She was sure she wouldn’t be able to choke down a grain of rice, but she went for the door anyway. “I’ll see—”

  Her cell ringing was a reminder that she’d left it on the nightstand.

  She went over and grabbed it.

  “Hello?”

  Vincente came around the bed. Her breath caught at the way he was watching her, with an almost predatory intensity.

  “Hello, Niki.”

  Nika’s stomach clenched so tightly at the familiar voice, she was surprised she didn’t start bleeding. “K-Kevin?”

  “Why haven’t you come back to that apartment, Niki? Where are you? With him?”

  Her heart stopped, her breath along with it. She fell into a sit on the side of the bed, and Vincente dropped to his knees in front of her.

  “Find out where he is,” he mouthed slowly.

  She shook her head violently and hit the Speaker button as Kevin kept talking, his voice going from angry to needy to remorseful to disturbing and sickly, as if someone were changing the stations on a radio. “Who is he, Niki? Is he fucking you, you whore? Do you like it? I miss you. Love you so fucking much. I’m coming for you, you bitch. You wait. I’ll take care of you again, the way I did before, but I’ll be nice this time. I swear. Right before I cut you open and watch you bleed out, you unfaithful cunt!”

  Having heard most of it before, she ground her teeth around the ice crawling down her spine and was just about to hit “End” when Vincente took the phone from her.

  He brought it to his curled mouth, his features set and alarmingly sinister. Every bit of humanity seemed to have leeched from him, turning him into something that, if not for the fact that she knew he’d never hurt her, would have truly frightened the shit out of her.

  “You have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy killing you, Nollan.” His voice was a quiet, anticipatory growl. “You stay in your hole, hide as well as you can, as deep as you can, but I’m gonna sniff you out. When I do, nothing will save you.”

  “You fucking bastard!” Kevin screamed. “She’s my wi—”

  Vincente ended the call and dropped her phone next to her on the bed. Their eyes met, and she swallowed the nausea roiling in her belly. She felt grounded the moment his hands found her hips. “You said last night that you’re close, right?”

  “We’re close,” he assured her, his fingers squeezing where he held her.

  “Okay. Will you please let me see him after it’s done? I need to know he’s gone.”

  His mouth tightened into a firm line that indicated he wasn’t pleased with her request, but he said, “If you insist on it, yes. I’ll let you see what’s left of him.”

  “Thank you, Vincente.” She touched his cheek and got up in a daze. He stood with her.

  “Red?”

  “Hmm?” She looked down at her screen saver. A picture of her and Caleb that she’d taken the other day in Union Square.

  “Why are you not bothered by the things he says to you? How can you just accept them like this?”

  She looked up at him. “I don’t accept them, Vincente,” she told him truthfully. “I don’t hear them anymore. Kevin can say whatever he wants to me—it really doesn’t register.”

  With a sad shake of his head, he gathered her into his arms, one hand across her back, the other on the back of her head. “I wish I could make you unhear that shit anyway,” he said quietly. “You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. Nobody does.”

  Nika wrapped her arms around his back and accepted the comfort she craved. She was so damn grateful it was Vincente who was giving it, despite still wondering at his now-I-like-you-now-I-don’t attitude, but she wouldn’t push it. She knew just as well as anyone how easy it was to second-guess herself when making a decision. She was doing the same thing with him, for God’s sake. One minute she wanted to be with him; the next she knew it was the absolute wrong thing to do. Yet she still so badly wanted what she shouldn’t have. But wasn’t that the way with things? Just ask any addict.

  She laid her head on his shoulder and inhaled his scent, her eyes drawn to the window. A large bird soared in a sweeping circle in the cloudless sky. It dove down, disappearing for a moment behind a copse of trees. Probably getting sustenance in the form of a field mouse. She blinked in the warmth surrounding her when it came into view again, circling as it went higher. Round and round it went, almost as if it had caught wind and was now only coasting, enjoying itself too much to stop and do what it knew it must. Survive.

  With a small sigh, she tightened her hold for a second to savor the feel of Vincente’s body against hers and then drew back. “Thank you. I really needed that,” she said sincerely. She knew she shouldn’t get used to receiving it from him. She pulled her arms away, her fingers lingering on the supple skin of his ribs before she turned away and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To find Eva.”

  Her words barely carried as she walked out.

  “You need to get dressed, Red.”

  She kept going, padding down the hall in nothing but his oversize T-shirt.

  He let her go and she found Eva and Charlie in Eva’s bedroom. They didn’t talk much, just sat with each other. Nika did tell her about Kevin’s phone call but moved on quickly to gush over her new puppy again. Their visit ended when Gabriel came in. Nika had already heard Vincente pass by in the hallway so she knew it was safe to return to his room. Before she left her friend, Eva told her the best thing she could do was stay in the moment and try to let things work themselves out as they always seemed to do.

  That was good advice, especially coming from someone who was living it. Eva’s life had fallen into place beautifully, Nika thought as she entered the living room a little while later. She’d gone back to Vincente’s room to shower and dress in a pair of black shorts, a gray V-neck tee, and sandals. She played with the metal feather hanging from the long chain around her neck, feeling nervous when four heads turned to where she’d stalled in the entrance. Charlie, as was becoming the norm, hopped around her ankles as she avoided looking anywhere near the darkest form in the group.

  A round of hellos preceded Maksim coming forward with a grin aimed at her pet. “Hey, kid.” He squatted and put his hand out before looking up at her. “What are we calling him?”

  “Charlie.”

  The pup went down on his belly and shimmied forward until Maksim’s fingers were running down his back. His touch was gentle, his tone soft, as he spoke to the dog in what Nika presumed was Russian.

  God, she so wanted to look up and to the left. Wanted to—

  “I was just going to take him outside,” she blurted to Maksim. She had to get out of there before she, again, allowed her feelings for Vincente to be witnessed by everyone. “Are you busy? Maybe you can come with? I’d like a photo of him playing in the grass. Screen saver.” She waved the phone that she had clutched in her hand and hoped she didn’t sound as high-strung as she suddenly felt.

  Maksim reached out and plucked her iPhone from her fingers with a distasteful look. “These things are dangerous. Carry way too much information. I’ll tighten it up for you. Make it more secure. Don’t argue with me, sweetness,” he added firmly when she opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t have to do that. The steady look he aimed up at her swiftly sealed her lips once more, and she wasn’t even sure why. He lifted Charlie with a hand under his belly and rose to his full towering height, his eyes holding hers. He nodded as if satisfied. “Very nice,” he murmured with a sidelong look at the others. “You should be taking notes. It’s all in the tone, and eye contact is very important.”

  Her brows snapped down. What the hell did that mean? And who had he said it to?

  “Would it have much of a ripple effect if I killed him?”

  Her jaw dropped, and her gaze flew
to the asker of the casual question.

  Vincente’s casually asked question.

  Nika realized immediately that she should. Not. Have. Looked.

  He was wearing his usual biker boots, worn jeans, and weathered brown belt. But over his black T-shirt was a casual polar-white shirt. The top two buttons were undone, and that wolf’s tooth he always wore hung from his neck. The sleeves were rolled to the elbow to show off his inked forearms, his chunky watch encircled his left wrist, and his hair—for the first time ever—was pulled back into a ponytail, showcasing his face in such a way she wasn’t sure she could stand it. He looked as if he’d attempted to clean up, and the effect was devastating, the complete and total destruction of any resolve Nika might have had to stay away from him.

  Gabriel’s deep voice had her blinking and sucking in some air when she realized she wasn’t breathing anymore.

  “His Russian fan club would come down hard on our asses. Vasily would be pissed. Hurt, even. But that might only be because we didn’t include him in the festivities.”

  “He’d get over it, though, right?” Vincente asked, his focus on the tab of the Red Bull can he was twisting off.

  “I suppose.” Gabriel appeared thoughtful for a moment. “But then we’d have to break in a new IT guy. Can you even imagine that bullshit?”

  “The twins are pretty talented.”

  Gabriel snorted. “Yeah. But not that talented.”

  Vincente’s mouth twisted, and then he gave an oh-all-right nod, seemingly convinced that taking his friend’s life would be more trouble than it was worth.

  Nika tore her eyes away and looked at Maksim to see how he was handling the very odd discussion of his possible demise and wasn’t really surprised to be met with a grin. “See?” He winked. “This is what indispensable looks like.”

  She laughed and wondered if Vincente would be uncomfortable with her approaching him in front of his friends. She could see him in her periphery. He was looking anywhere but at her. Maybe she shouldn’t approach him. At all. Especially since she still didn’t know why his attitude toward her had cooled.

  Gabriel snagged Eva’s hand and brought her to the couch, but before he could pull her down, she was shaking her dark head. “Uh-uh. We have work to do,” she said firmly. “If Vincente is traveling into Manhattan to go to his office, the least we can do is walk down the hallway to ours.”

  That explained the change to his appearance, which Nika was pretty sure had been Eva’s intent. The darling.

  “I’ve created a monster,” Gabriel grumbled. “Is it too much to ask to enjoy an hour of downtime with my wife?”

  “We can enjoy some hours after. It’s almost time for my forced nap anyway,” Eva said wryly.

  She’d told Nika earlier that Gabriel had been insisting on a rest in the early afternoons. She’d been going along with it to make him happy, and because she said she was a little more tired than usual and felt in actual need of the short sleep. Then she’d blushed like a girl, and Nika was convinced not much sleep was had during those naps.

  Gabriel motioned his wife out of the room, but Eva turned to Nika. “Why don’t you come with and we can prep for your interview?”

  It was all Nika could do not to visibly wilt, but knowing it was for the best, she nodded. “Okay. Charlie just needs to pee, and I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll keep you company,” Maksim said, holding out his free hand. “Let’s go take care of the kid.”

  Wishing it was Vincente’s, but forcing herself not to even look at him, she took the tattooed appendage and was led out the French doors and around the pool to the large emerald stretch of grass. Far, far away from temptation.

  But not far enough.

  CHAPTER 20

  Vincente was fucking wired. Strung the fuck out.

  He plowed through the kitchen, changing his mind on food the minute he spotted the tray of sandwiches Samnang always left for them. He rattled the whole house banging his way out the French doors leading to the calm waters of the lit-up pool. Cracked his neck a couple of times. Sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Nothing helped.

  He’d spent a few hours at ROM Construct after leaving earlier and had found everything running as smoothly as he could hope for, thanks to his cousin Mario and Mario’s very pregnant wife, Cindy. Vincente had stayed as long as he could, until Fan Boy’s happily created collage of his redhead with a beautifully swollen belly made him snappy. He’d mumbled an apology to his staff and fucked off. Had to remember to send them a muffin basket or some shit.

  He’d then hit up Caleb and the two of them had combed through Crown Heights, checking out the warehouse and Darren’s apartment, before adding Vex and a half-dozen others—ODMC and Moretti crew combined—to the search party. Even with the increase in numbers, they’d come up empty. Again.

  Now Vincente was freaking out, morals nowhere to be found. His skin felt as if it were two sizes too small for his body. His head as if it were about to pop off his shoulders. And there was something happening in his chest that was becoming harder and harder to breathe around.

  “Wound a little tight there, my brother?”

  Even though it was goddamned Maksim’s voice, he still spun around ready to kick in some teeth. He didn’t. Even though he was so fucking tempted.

  He was pissed about the “taking care of the kid” bullshit, despite knowing Maks would never stab him in the back by coming on to a woman Vincente was interested in. Especially Nika.

  Feeling as if he were burning in his skin, Vincente took another meaningless suck of air. He relaxed his stance as he blew the useless shit out between him and his friend. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”

  “Enjoying the quiet. Was a busy night. Vasily finally moved on the Columbians shoveling their shit into Brighton.”

  He nodded, curious to hear about it. But not now.

  “What are you doing, V? Still putting off the inevitable.”

  Asshole. “Blow me, Maks. I’m not in the mood.” He looked out over the pool and heard the guy haul himself up from the lounger. “We went through Crown Heights tonight. Astoria, too. Didn’t find shit.”

  “Maybe it’s a sign. She’s been pacing all fucking night. Every camera I looked through, there she was, wound as tight as you are. You should go up to her.”

  On that happy note, Maks left him alone with his tangled thoughts.

  He looked up at the stars, stomach rolling as if he were on a sinking boat, and knew what he was about to do. How could he be so selfish?

  He still had no answer to that question when he stood outside his bedroom door, knees weak, pulse pounding, gut spinning, breath coming in short bursts. He reached out and turned the knob, then slipped in and closed the door quietly behind him.

  Which wasn’t necessary because Nika wasn’t asleep.

  She unfolded her long body from her perch on the seat in front of the big bay window and was all feline grace even though hesitancy was clear in her walk to the bed. She turned her back on him to pull the chain on the lamp—

  Fuuuck.

  The room tilted at an odd angle when the swath of light showed her wearing nothing but a white tank with the words Hug Me—he would, in a minute—emblazoned across the chest and tiny black underwear. Her hair was tousled and wild, her eyes droopy and tired.

  Vincente stepped farther into the room, his temperature rocketing up a few thousand degrees when her scent slammed into him.

  “What do you want from me?” His voice was like gravel, and he hoped it didn’t frighten her.

  Her eyes flared ever so slightly but with a banked heat that was so sexy he was sure he imagined it. “What do you mean?”

  “What. Do. You. Want.”

  Her thumbs and forefingers were suddenly fluttering against each other like a hummingbird’s wings. Her eyes darted past him to the door. “Um, I’m not sure
I should tell you.” She cringed, and he knew he was going to have to put himself out there first. If she shot him down, so be it.

  “I lied.” There was a beat of surprised silence. “About wanting you,” he specified so there would be no misunderstandings.

  Everything about her froze for a split second, she even stopped breathing, and then she was bustling about, grabbing that silky blue robe of hers and yanking it on—he’d had Vito bring her things over that morning. She jerkily walked back and straightened the side of the bed she’d disturbed, running her hand over the sheet and then the comforter until not a wrinkle remained. All the while, she jabbered.

  “I don’t think now is the time to discuss something like this. You’re tired from doing whatever it was you did all night. I’m tired from worrying the night away with Eva and Quan. He was great company. So calm and steady. We played cards. I think he let us win.”

  “I lied,” he said again, gently. “Will you let me tell you how I see you, Red? How I really see you?”

  She looked so much like she wanted to say no, her eyes zipping to the door again, but she nodded her head once, almost imperceptibly.

  “You’re like the most brilliant sunshine on an autumn day. Like a warm breeze on a deserted beach in the fall. You’re a small slice of heaven . . . I shouldn’t soil you with the blood on my hands. But I can’t fight this anymore,” he finished hoarsely, letting her read the truth in his eyes.

  She took her time, and when she spoke, her voice was low and careful. “So, you hurt me by telling me I wasn’t enough for you . . . for nothing? Why?”

  How much was he going to tell her? All of it? A portion? Maybe he should tell her the whole shit story and have her kick him out on his ass.

  He ran a hand over the back of his neck in an effort to loosen the muscles there. “I’m so fucking sorry, Red. Last night, you asked me what I do exactly and I shut you down. Well, when Gabriel left the family five years ago, I struggled with my role in it. I didn’t know where I fit and needed something more, so I purchased a falling-down-drunk construction company. I built it back up while I hung out with Stefano. It’s now turning a good profit thanks in part to my cousin and his wife. That’s where I went this afternoon. It keeps Mario out of trouble, and out of this other world, which I know he wouldn’t have handled well. Too much easy access to every excess there is; money, drugs, women.” He took an inconspicuous breath. “ROM Construct also affords me a legitimate excuse for my . . . wealth.” He felt like a fucking poseur talking about shit like this. “The majority of which I don’t add to any numbered line on my IRS forms. You get what I’m saying? Me and the boys make a shit ton of money, but it’s not respectable gains. It’s from gambling, laundering, forgeries; we have a healthy arms shop.” He shrugged. “Maybe because of your brother that stuff doesn’t faze you, but it should.”