Russian Enforcers Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)

by Nic Saint

  He resented the fact that Boris didn’t give him the credit that was his due. As an enforcer for the Gornakov family, he’d never thought his job would be that of a babysitter, and yet here he was, escorting Laura Armstrong to her audition. Not that he minded the Laura part. He liked the girl. Liked her a lot, in fact. But it wasn’t what he’d signed up for. Like most of the girls, she would be in and out of here in months. As soon as she got her degree, she would be gone, leaving him to deal with the next batch of young hopefuls. And Darlene.

  He thought about Laura’s wavy red hair. The way it cascaded around a pale face that had the power to lift his spirits with a single glance. Her mouth was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. The way it curled up into a smile, or pouted when she was upset. And then there were her eyes. A sparkling blue, they turned smoky when she wanted something from him, clear and innocent when she thought no one was looking.

  Her lithe frame and pert breasts had lit up many a fevered daydream, as had her eye-catching moves on the stage. She didn’t know it, but her youthful innocence and soulful gazes set his world ablaze each time they met. She called him her personal protector, and the only friend she had in this place. He could say the same thing about her, though his interest was a lot more carnal than mere friendship allowed.

  The way she’d looked just now, all wide-eyed and nervous, it was all he could do not to slam her up against the door, and plunder that mouth. He could almost taste her, feel that glossy lipstick under his lips, feel the softness of that supple body writhing beneath him. He would ravish her until her cheeks glowed and her eyes grew smoky and hot, and then he would have her, pound her into oblivion until she came like a hurricane, wet, trembling and screaming out her release.

  He shook the thoughts from his mind, as he had before. Laura was a pure soul, so far removed from the world he called his own it was ridiculous even to contemplate having his way with her. If she knew how he really felt about her, she would be very upset indeed.

  He surveyed the single light bulb that cast its dim light from the ceiling, then studied the cracked tile floor and the faded wallpaper and thought the club could definitely use a makeover. Ever since Yury and Vladimir Gornakov had retired from business, things had been in a turmoil, and though he was only a small cog in a very large machine, he heard things. Things like Yulian Gornakov stepping in and taking over from his father and uncle. Or Roman Loginovsky taking charge of the American end of the business.

  The transition would bring about some serious changes, according to his siblings, all of them employed in some capacity across the vast and sprawling Gornakov empire.

  As the youngest and newest recruit, he was lowest on the totem pole. He knew he had to pay his dues, and pay them he would, but he hoped this trial period would be over soon, so he could move on to something more lucrative.

  For one thing, he’d vowed to buy Darlene a serious rock, but on the salary he was currently scraping together, that wasn’t happening.

  And though he could always borrow the money from one of his siblings, he so wasn’t going there. It was hard enough being the youngest of the Petrov bunch, he wasn’t going to humiliate himself by begging for a loan so he could buy his girlfriend a ring. Hell, no. They’d never let him live it down.

  As he stood contemplating a fate that had left him doorman to the likes of Boris Sarnovsky, a piece of lowlife scum if there ever was one, he suddenly thought he heard the sounds of a scuffle beyond the door. Though the room was soundproof, there was obvious yelling on the other side.

  He frowned, putting his ear to the padded door.

  Then he heard it, clear as a bell: Laura’s voice, ringing out in a cry of anguish.

  What the hell!

  Quick as a flash, he opened the door and stormed in.

  The sight that met his eyes had him momentarily reeling.

  Bent over on the edge of the stage lay Laura, a fat man straddling her, his pants pooled around his legs, while she fought him, slapping her fists helplessly against his chest, her body wriggling with fear and revulsion.

  In two steps, he was upon them, and was dragging the man away from her. With a grunt, he flung the bastard to the floor, then stood towering over him while Laura hugged her arms around her shivering frame, crying convulsively.

  The figure on the floor suddenly turned to face him.

  Startled, he saw that it was Boris Sarnovsky himself!

  Red-faced and naked from the waist down, the club owner roared, “How dare you lay a hand on me!” Crawling to his feet, he bent to draw up his pants.

  The moment he’d recovered from the shock, Alex said in a low voice, “You stay away from her.” He didn’t care one bit that this was his employer. He had no business molesting Laura. He’d been hired to protect the young woman, and protect her he would.

  “You fool! You’re finished! Finished! You’ll never work again!”

  “I don’t care. If you ever come near her again, I’ll—”

  “You’ll do what?” challenged the man with a leering smirk.

  “This is not right, Boris,” he riposted vehemently, eyeing the man darkly. “You don’t do this. Not now. Not ever. Especially not Laura.”

  The club owner turned his eyes on him, bloodshot in a bloated, blotchy face. “Don’t I know it,” he grumbled. “She’s about as fucking frigid as they come.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” he warned, a dangerous light flickering in his eyes.

  Boris scoffed. “What’s she to you, then, huh?”

  “A friend.” He watched Laura huddle on the far side of the stage, gathering her stuff, her face turned away. She was still crying, her shoulders jerking.

  Boris waved his hand in a gesture of disgust. “I hope she’s worth losing your job over.”

  “She is.”

  Boris shrugged, his interest waning fast now that he couldn’t get what he wanted. “Get the fuck out of here, and take the bitch with you.”

  At these words, Alex gritted his teeth. “First you apologize.”

  The man emitted a hacking laugh. “Are you fricking nuts? I ain’t apologizing to that two-bit tramp.”

  Alex pointed to a frightened Laura, who’d now slunk to the door and stood on shaky legs, watching the scene unfold. “Apologize. Now!” he thundered.

  Suddenly, Boris was in his face. “Fuck you!” he spat, spittle flying. “How’s that for an apology? Now get the fuck out! You and that stupid cow!”

  Fury roared like a tidal wave inside Alex’s head, and before he could apply a measure of control, his fist had struck out and hit the irate club owner on the chin. The man’s head snapped back, and he tumbled to the floor like a felled tree.

  What happened next, Alex would later replay in his head over and over again. As Boris tumbled to earth, his head hit the sharp edge of the stage. There was a sickening crack, and then the man lay motionless, his neck bent at an awkward angle. Before Alex’s horrified gaze, a small trickle of scarlet seeped from a head wound, and then he was kneeling down and checking the man’s pulse.

  Not finding any, his blood ran cold. And if that hadn’t done it, Laura’s screams assaulting his eardrums sure did.

  He stared down at the dead club owner, his mind working fast, then spoke curtly. “You were never here, Laura.”

  “What?” she cried, clutching her head.

  He pointed to the exit. “Go now, and if anyone asks, you were never here!”

  She stared from him to the dead man, then stumbled back to the door, and left on a run, her eyes panicky and wild. He heard her heels clacking along the corridor, and then he heard a door slam and he knew she would be safe.

  He sank next to the body of Boris and stared into the man’s lifeless eyes.

  This, he felt, was one of those defining moments school teachers like to go on and on about. Only, he’d never thought he would remain so icy calm when it happened to him. When he took the phone out of his pocket, he wondered how he was going to get out of this one. He had the distinct imp
ression he wasn’t.

  CHAPTER 4

  Laura sank to the floor of the dressing room, emotions roiling in her gut like a vortex, tears flooding her face.

  First, the assault, then Alex bursting onto the scene and seeing her like that. Then the dead man on the floor…

  This wasn’t really happening.

  And yet it was.

  When finally something stood out amongst the welter of thought, it was the notion that Alex had saved her life. Then the clear realization she should return to that room and help him clear his name.

  It was an accident, and when the police came, she would tell them.

  She would tell them what happened and all would be fine.

  She would tell them Alex had saved her from the disgrace of abuse at the hands of that horrible, horrible man.

  The moment Boris Sarnovsky had risen from his seat and slipped off his glasses, she’d seen his eyes for the first time. It had been a shock. They had been bloodshot and filled with the kind of sick lust she saw night after night from the stage.

  Though she’d often been told by the other girls to keep her gaze fixed to the back of the room, she couldn’t help letting her eyes roam the audience.

  They were all men she might know. Men who might know her.

  She attended Brooklyn College, and lived nearby, so there was always the risk someone might recognize her. A friend, a colleague, a loved one. It was one of her biggest nightmares. She really couldn’t bear the thought of anyone finding out what she really did to make tuition. Even her aunt and uncle still thought she worked at Denny’s.

  And now this. The man’s eyes were riveted on her, and when he approached, she knew his intent before he’d even spoken a single word.

  “I want you,” signaled those eyes. “Give me some sugar, honey,” were his actual words. She told him, in no uncertain terms, she wasn’t interested, but then he’d simply made a grab for her and knocked her down.

  She’d gone down hard, and by the time she recovered, he was all over her, his hands groping and his face a mask of horrid lasciviousness.

  She’d yelled out, punching his chest, trying to push him away. The bastard hadn’t yielded. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy the tussle. Judging from the sick smile across his doughy face, he seemed to draw pleasure from her struggle.

  And then Alex had come bursting into the room and had pulled the sick man away from her. She’d felt both relieved and terribly ashamed that the only man she liked in this place had had to see her like this. She’d quickly crawled away, only following the altercation from afar, her mind numb, her nerves frayed beyond endurance, her cheeks flaming red from shame and embarrassment.

  When the blood had been spilled, and the body of the dead man lay sprawled on the floor, clearly beyond help, she’d cried out in terror. She’d run away as instructed. Now, when she could finally think straight again, she was walking back to the scene of the crime. She owed Alex. She owed her savior.

  They would wait for the police together. They would tell them exactly what had happened and they would understand. She knew officers of the police department were there to help her. They would see that Alex had done the only thing possible. That he was a hero. Soon the nightmare would be over.

  “Alex!” she cried, surprised when she saw him roll the body into a carpet.

  “What do you want?” he snapped. “Didn’t I tell you to get out of here?”

  “What—what are you doing?” she demanded, watching wide-eyed as the fat man was neatly packaged into the carpet he’d lain bleeding on.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” he returned testily, then gave the carpet a final shove and pressed the package against the stage, putting his foot down so it wouldn’t unroll.

  “You—where’s the police? We have to call the police.”

  He shook his head. “Uh-uh. The police aren’t getting involved in this one.”

  “What? No! We have to call them. A crime was committed. They need to come and, and, and—”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “And what? Book me for murder? No way, honey. I’m not going to jail for the likes of Boris Sarnovsky.”

  She waved her hands ineffectually. “But—but I’ll testify for you. I’ll tell them what happened.”

  “What will you tell them? That I killed Boris by knocking him to the floor after he tried to rape you? Do you really think they’ll believe you?”

  “Of course they will! I’ll simply tell them the truth. They’ll believe me.”

  He displayed a grim smile. “You have a very naive outlook on life, Laura. I admire you for it, but the police will never know what happened here tonight. Not if I can help it.” He turned his remarkable eyes on her. “Unless you tell them otherwise, this whole thing never happened and you were never here.”

  She shook her head, her hands flying to her hair in a gesture of helplessness. “But it did happen! God! This isn’t really happening!”

  “Exactly my point,” he grunted, then searched around for something. His eyes fell on a piece of string and he started to tie it around the carpet with practiced ease. She had the uneasy feeling he’d done this sort of thing before. Kill people. Wrap them in carpets. Who was this guy!

  “You can’t do this, Alex. You didn’t do anything wrong. You—this was all an accident. Let’s call the police. They’ll be here soon, and everything will be all right. All will be—”

  “Fucked up,” he countered, admiring his handiwork. “There. That should do it.”

  “But—but—how are you going to explain Boris suddenly disappearing?”

  “I’m not going to explain anything to anyone.” He moved his broad shoulders in an easy lift. “Nobody cares, honey. Just another mobster who got cold feet and fled to warmer climes. Mexico. Belize. Happens every day.”

  “Cold feet?” She suddenly noticed the dead man’s feet sticking out and let out a yelp of horror. When a soft knock sounded behind her, she yelped again, this time jerking her head around. A man who looked startlingly like Alex eyed her with interest.

  “Came as soon as I could,” the newcomer announced, then shifted his gaze to the carpet. “Wow, little brother. Tough day on the job, huh?”

  The man grinned, and Laura noticed his eyes had the exact same color as Alex’s, only his hair was a sandy brown, he had a more slender build, and his face lit up with an easier smile.

  “Shut up, Rob,” Alex growled. “Just give us a hand, will you? Dude weighs a ton.”

  Rob ignored his brother’s request and returned his gaze to Laura. “Who have we here?” Thrusting out his hand, he added, “Don’t think we’ve been introduced, honey. I’m Robert. This ugly guy’s big brother.”

  “Quit fooling around, Rob!” thundered Alex, and Laura flinched at the harshness of his tone.

  Rob’s smile widened. “Forgive my brother. At home we keep him in a cage.”

  With some effort, the two brothers hoisted the carpet onto their shoulders.

  Robert rolled his eyes. “You weren’t kidding, buddy. The dude is heavy.”

  “Told you.”

  As they passed her by, Alex gave Laura a curt nod. “Go home now, Laura. And remember, you were never here,” he repeated his earlier admonishment.

  She watched, jaw dropping, as Robert gave her a tiny wave. “Cheerio.”

  Then the men quickly moved through the door, and down the corridor.

  She watched them disappear, her face working in helpless astonishment. Alone in the room, she suddenly shivered, remembering a murder had just taken place. A murder to which she was now an accessory, if she remembered her TV crime shows well.

  “Hey! Wait for me!” she finally cried out, and then was racing down the corridor in pursuit of the Petrov men.

  CHAPTER 5

  As they were hauling the body along the corridor, Alex’s mind was on the next stage. Once outside, they had to carry it across the parking lot to Rob’s flatbed truck. If they were seen, heads would turn and questions asked. Questions Alex di
dn’t particularly feel like dealing with right now.

  They would just have to chance it. No other way.

  And then there was Laura. He figured she might be the biggest liability of all. She had an eagerness to blab to the cops that frankly worried him.

  Apparently, Rob had come to the same conclusion. “We’d better take care of the girl, Alex. The moment she talks to the fuzz, we’re dead meat.”

  He merely grunted. After what she’d gone through, he was inclined to go easy on her. Then he heard shoes clicking on tile, and when he looked over, saw her tripping after them. What the…

  “Alex,” she called out, a little breathless, “we really need to call the police. Let them know what’s going on.” She pointed to the carpet. “You can’t just, you know—I mean you shouldn’t—it’s simply not—”

  She blanched, what little color there was left to her cheeks rapidly evaporating. She brought her hands to her mouth and produced a blood-curdling scream.

  Following her gaze, he now saw that blood was seeping from the carpet and dripping onto the floor. A trail of red spatters stood out against the white tile.

  “Goddammit,” Rob cursed under his breath. “If anyone sees this…”

  “Laura,” spoke Alex in the calmest voice he could manage, “you need to do something for me. Something vitally important.”

  Her eyes were still riveted on the blood, her lips moving without producing a single sound.

  “Laura,” he called out. Her eyes rose and met his, and he gave her an encouraging smile. “I need you to find a mop and clean up this blood. And be real quick about it, before anyone else comes along.”

  She nodded automatically, her face pale and drawn. To her credit, she immediately scooted off in the direction of the cleaners’ room.

  They couldn’t risk being seen now. Carrying a carpet out of the club was bad enough, but leaving a trail of blood… They’d be as dead as the body they were carrying.