by Katie Reus
* * *
Declan stalked toward his room. He felt like a caged, wild animal. Nika wouldn’t talk to him? Fine. He’d simply invade her dreams. He didn’t care if she liked it. He was going to make her talk to him. As he reached the end of the hallway, Odell’s voice stopped him.
“Boss, you got a sec?”
He turned to find him hovering by the top of the stairs. “What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to you about something. It’s personal.”
“So talk.” He was not in the mood for this.
Odell shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t even know how to say this, but, uh…I have a problem. A gambling problem…addiction. I wanted to wait until after this job, but it’s eating me alive inside, especially after the shit that went down with Clay. I owe a lot of money to some people in—”
“Jersey. I know.”
He rubbed a hand over his trim hair. “Shit. Why didn’t you say something?”
Declan shrugged. “I was going to wait until after this job.”
“I just wanted to be up front about it with you and let you know that I’m going to start attending Gambler’s Anonymous.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m going to cover the debt. You’ve put in a lot of overtime and been with my company from the beginning. I just wish you’d come to me sooner.” Declan understood why he hadn’t though.
“I know…it’s embarrassing.”
He tried to smooth past that, not wanting Odell to be ashamed. People had all sorts of vices and reasons for them. He was just glad Odell was taking responsibility. “My brother knows the lady who runs a Gamblers Anonymous group at Church of God. Want me to put you in touch with her?”
He nodded, relief filling his expression. “Yeah. I’d appreciate it.”
“You’re a valuable employee but this is a one-time thing. I expect you to attend meetings regularly and if you don’t, you’re done.” Because Declan wouldn’t enable anyone. That never worked out well for either party.
“I know. And thank you for…” He rubbed a hand over his face and his voice was tight as he continued. “Thank you for covering it. I didn’t expect that by coming to you. I just couldn’t take the guilt anymore.”
Declan nodded and continued to his room. He’d already called Vernon with the information on Yasha. Now there was nothing any of them could do but wait for the FBI to arrest him. If he really was running women for the purpose of slavery in addition to drug running, he’d be thrown in a deep, dark hole somewhere.
Without bothering to change, Declan took off his shoes and lay on his bed. He was going to get into Nika’s head whether she liked it or not.
He ordered himself to focus. Slowing his breathing, he shut his eyes and pushed all other thoughts from his mind except the ones that revolved around her. Wild curly dark hair, smooth caramel skin, bewitching green eyes, small, perfect breasts…
Suddenly he spotted her. She sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, glaring at him. “Can’t you let me get some sleep?” she snapped.
“Why didn’t you answer your door?”
She played with the hem of her shirt. “I don’t want to see you.”
Annoyance flared inside him, hot and bright. “What was I supposed to do, let your sister kill him?”
She didn’t respond.
“Is that really why you’re angry at me?” He took a few steps toward her, but she erected a mental wall, forcing him to a halt.
Apparently it surprised her too because her eyes widened when he stopped. “Did I do that?”
He didn’t want to admit it, but he had no choice. “Yeah.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Can I keep you out of my dreams?”
He didn’t answer. Only a select number of people could mentally keep dream walkers out of their heads. They could also kill dream walkers if they wanted. If he was killed in his dream state, he’d die in the real world. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to know that. “Why are you angry with me?”
She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m not angry. I’m…tired of all this. Everything you and I had was based on lies. You knew who I was before we even met, didn’t you?”
“I had an idea you and your sister didn’t meet Andre by chance. I didn’t know what your end game was but once I got your sister’s fingerprints, I pieced a few things together.”
“Is that why you took the job for Andre—to spy on us?”
He nodded.
“See? You’re a liar and I’m a liar. I don’t want to start something based on that.”
That God awful tightening in his chest started again. He refused to let her walk away from him. “I didn’t lie about my attraction to you, a mhuirnín.” And he hadn’t. She obviously didn’t understand how much she meant to him.
“It doesn’t matter.” Her beautiful eyes brimmed with pain. They seemed brighter in the dream tonight. “I’m done with all of this. Just leave me alone.”
“Nika, will you just talk to me? I’m sorry about your parents and everything you two have gone through. I just want to be there for you. I want to get to know you—the real you.”
“If…” She pulled in a ragged sigh. “Even if we tried to make this thing work Yasha will always want my sister and me dead. You wouldn’t be safe if we’re together. It’s easier if we end this now.”
Fuck that. “Wait—” His surroundings faded only to be replaced with a new scene. He was still in her head, but he was seeing her memories.
For the first time ever. She must be letting him inside her head.
A pretty dark-haired girl who couldn’t be more than five slid a green and gold wrapped box back under a giant Christmas tree. Sitting cross-legged, she stared at the pile of presents under the sparkling lights and silver tinsel.
“Sasha!” someone shouted.
She turned at the sound. “What is it, Angel?”
“Mom told you to get into your pajamas ten minutes ago. The babysitter will be here soon.”
“So? You’re not mommy.”
The other girl, Angel, rolled her eyes. “Whatever. If you don’t change, I’ll tell Santa you’ve been bad.”
“You said he wasn’t even real.” She glared at her sister.
Angel smirked and left the room humming Jingle Bells.
The little girl with short, unruly curls glanced at the giant green tree one more time then ran from the room and up the stairs. After changing into her pink pajamas, she rushed into another room and dove onto a king-sized bed. The fluffy comforter let out a big whoosh.
“Did you brush your teeth?” A woman in her thirties—must be her mother—looked at her through the mirror as she put in a sparkly earring.
“Um… Where are you going tonight?”
“A party.” The woman turned around with a huge smile on her face. Her dark hair was piled high on her head and she wore a floor-length black dress. “How do I look?”
“Like a goddess.” An ebony skinned man with a slight British accent answered—her father—as he strode out of a bathroom and kissed her.
“Eww.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “Why can’t me and Angel come with you?”
Her mom pressed on her dad’s chest and looked at her. “Angel and I.”
Sasha flopped against the pillow and sighed. “Why can’t Angel and I come?”
“It’s a party for grownups.” Her mother sat on the edge of the bed as the doorbell rang.
“Got it,” her dad murmured before disappearing out into the hallway.
“You’ll have more fun with Angel and Nancy. You like Nancy right?”
“I guess so. She told me that Santa was bringing me presents this year.” She bit her bottom lip and frowned.
“Come on sweetie, let me see that smile—”
“Anya! The girls!” The man’s shouts were terrified.
He sounded like a hurt animal.
“Mommy?” Sasha’s voice shook.
But her mom wasn’t listening. She headed
to the nightstand and pulled a small pistol from the drawer. “Go to your sister’s room. Listen to everything she says.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Without another word, Sasha raced through the adjoining bathroom and ran right into her sister.
“Angel, what’s going on?”
Shouts and loud bangs from downstairs seemed to shake the whole house. Her mother’s screams echoed loudly. Tears stung the little girl’s eyes. “Is mommy hurt?”
Angel grabbed her hand. “Come on.” She yanked Sasha inside the closet then tugged the white doors shut. Sasha watched as her sister pulled back a part of the wall. “What is that?”
“Get in and be quiet,” Angel whispered, fear evident in her voice.
She climbed into the little carpeted cubbyhole and waited for her sister to follow. Glass breaking and loud men yelling sounded outside, but her sister shushed her and pulled the wall back into place.
“Why do you have a secret room? What’s wrong with mommy?” She clutched her stomach.
“Shh.”
Angel grabbed her sister’s hand. When their mother’s cries grew louder and closer, Angel dropped Sasha’s hand. Sasha covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut tight. Small arms pulled her into a hug, but it didn’t block the outside noises.
The little girl jumped when three loud bangs reverberated around them, but her sister grasped her tighter and placed a hand over her mouth. Her mother was crying and saying her father’s name. A man shouted vile words in Russian and then he laughed.
Then her mother cried even louder. It was so loud Declan wanted to get the hell out of Nika’s head, but he made himself stay put. She was showing this to him because it was important to her. He needed to see it through.
The little girl tried to move but her older sister gripped her tighter.
“I’m going to cover your ears,” her sister whispered.
Angel held her hands over Sasha’s ears, covering Sasha’s own small hands, but it didn’t drown out the angry shouts and crying.
When silence descended, Angel removed her hands and wrapped her arms around Sasha. They remained frozen in place, shaking.
He jerked upright in bed. He was covered in sweat and shaking. Nausea rolled through his gut as he lay back down. Closing his eyes, he focused on Nika once again, but it was useless. He couldn’t get into her dreams no matter how hard he tried. After seeing that he felt sick. Though that seemed an inept description.
He’d lost his mother too, but not to a violent gang of thugs. He rubbed a hand over the middle of his chest. Alena had been older, she’d likely been the one to contact whoever had helped get them out of the house. And she’d been the one who’d seen what happened to her parents. He wondered how long they stayed in that closet, how long until someone came to help them.
Sighing, he stared at the ceiling. Looked like Nika had figured out how to kick him out of her dreams. That didn’t mean she got to kick him out of her life. Because that wasn’t happening. Tomorrow he’d find a way to convince her she needed to stay in Miami. Permanently.
Chapter 29
Out of the corner of his eye, Yasha watched Dima stiffen with surprise as they steered up to his son’s warehouse.
“I thought we were going to be closer to the pier,” Dima said.
“No, that’s simply what I told you.” Without waiting for a response, he drew his pistol and shot Dima in the head. The small caliber weapon did the job, but it didn’t make a big mess.
His driver jerked the wheel slightly, but didn’t say anything. As they pulled to a stop, Yasha wiped the blood spots from his face and the right arm of his leather jacket. He leaned forward and spoke to the two men in the front seat. “This is what happens when you try to cross me. Get rid of the body and dispose of this vehicle.”
“Yes, sir,” they both murmured in unison.
Dima had been ratting on him to the FBI and if he hadn’t slipped up, Yasha never would have known. He still didn’t know how long he’d been going behind his back, but it didn’t matter anymore. As Yasha exited the car, Oleg and five others were waiting to head inside.
Oleg glanced past him and his eyes widened when he saw Dima’s body. He quickly averted his gaze. “We’ve already secured the perimeter.”
“Good. Mr. Carter will be arriving shortly.” He’d sent his men ahead of him but he hadn’t wanted to arrive too early. In case there was an ambush, he wasn’t getting taken down with his men. As it was, he still wasn’t sure if Dima was the only rat he had.
Sometime in the past few hours, a light fog had descended over Miami. His breath curled like smoke in front of him. The only sounds were the soft squeaking of their shoes across the concrete as they headed toward the side entrance door. After dealing with Dima, the only assurance he had they were safe was the fact that Andre wouldn’t betray him. His son might hate him, but blood was thicker than anything.
Huge crates with the product inside lined the walls, but there was enough open space to set up a table for the monetary exchange. Only cash for this deal. And Mr. Carter would no doubt end up much wealthier when he sold the women individually.
Dealing with auctions was too much trouble for Yasha. And too dangerous. A one-time deal like this was perfect.
“They’ve arrived,” Oleg said as he touched his earpiece.
“Search them for weapons and bring them to me.” Instead of sitting, Yasha stood next to the table as his man and three others strode out. Out of habit, he glanced around the warehouse, but nothing looked out of place. The rafters were dark and there was no movement. Just as it should be. He felt as if he was being watched, but lately he always felt that way. Like he was in the crosshairs of a sniper. After he was almost killed by that bitch it was no wonder he was on edge.
His heart rate sped up as four men walked through the side entrance, weapons drawn. Three wore black masks but one had his face exposed. Neither Oleg nor his other men were with them.
Yasha reached for his pistol but stopped when the dark-haired leader fired a warning shot at the ground. Thanks to the suppressor the shot itself barely made a whisper of sound, but concrete cracked under the assault.
“Next time I’ll shoot your knee. All of you, drop your weapons,” the dark-haired man ordered, his voice echoing through the cavernous space.
“This is no way to do business,” Yasha growled.
The man trained his pistol on Yasha’s head. “Tell your men to drop their weapons.”
“Sdelajte eto!” He’d been counting on this deal but he wouldn’t die for it.
Around him weapons clattered to the concrete floor.
“Now slide them over to me.”
Once his men did, one of the masked men gathered the firearms.
“What you want is in the crates. Take it and leave,” Yasha sneered in contempt.
“Oh, I’m going to take everything. And I’ll be letting all those women go. But not before I kill you. You don’t recognize me, do you?”
“I recognize your voice, Mr. Carter. I don’t imagine you’ll stay in business long if this is how you conduct yourself.”
He let out a harsh bark of laughter. “You know me as Richard Carter, but your son knows me at Rick Savitch.”
Realization punched into him, a vicious strike. He’d had that whore killed so long ago, it felt like another lifetime. “You were the one fucking his wife?”
Savitch’s face contorted with rage. “I loved her and you had her killed!”
Yasha had gone to great pains to cover up that fact. His own son didn’t know, would likely have killed Yasha if he had known. There was no use denying it now. “She was a whore and she was making a fool out of my son. I couldn’t allow it to continue.”
“Does Andre know you killed his wife?”
“Of course not!” he spat. “He would have stayed married to her until she’d left him. It was shameful.” His upper lip curled in disgust. “That is why you wish to kill me? Over a woman?” He couldn’t comp
rehend that.
“On your knees.” The man’s voice and hands were steady.
There was no way Yasha could fight his death. With another, he might have been able to bribe his way out, but he was smart enough to realize it wouldn’t work with this man. Still, he would never kneel before any man. And he would not beg. “I will not.”
“You will do exactly as I say,” Rick snarled, taking a step forward.
“FBI! Everyone drop your weapons!” A loud voice boomed.
Lights flooded the warehouse and men swarmed the place like locusts. Men rappelled down on ropes, dropping from the rafters as others rushed through the doors, armed to the teeth. Yasha stood frozen as the masked men dropped their weapons and hit the floor. Everyone complied except Savitch.
“Drop your weapon!” someone shouted.
Never in his life had Yasha thought to be thankful for the government’s protection. He smirked, realizing that he’d won after all. The FBI might have overheard everything, but if he could get out on bail, he’d flee the country. There were places in Europe or South America he could hide with relative ease. He might not be as rich as he’d hoped but at least he’d be alive. “You heard the man. Drop your weapon.” His mouth curved up tauntingly.
Savitch’s dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t you think it’s convenient that the FBI tracked you here? How do you think they did that?”
Yasha’s chest squeezed as the words sank in. Andre, his own blood, had betrayed him. Dima would have given them a different location. No one had known about this place until the last minute except…
“Drop the weapon!” A loud voice shouted again.
Savitch’s head cocked slightly to the side as he started to lower his weapon. Then his hand snapped back up and he pulled the trigger.
Yasha fell back against the concrete floor. A coppery, bitter taste filled his mouth. He watched as a Fed slammed Savitch to the ground. His hands were being fastened behind his back with handcuffs but he was smiling. Fucking smiling right at him like he’d just won the lottery.
Someone, another Fed pressed something over Yasha’s chest.
“My son?” he whispered.
“Your son gave you up, you piece of shit,” the man muttered before cutting his shirt open.
