The Southern Comfort Prequel Trilogy Box Set

by Lisa Clark O'Neill

  “All this time,” she said, her eyes sad. “And you never approached me, never let me know that you were alive.”

  Uncomfortable and slightly defensive, Alexei jerked his shoulders. “I could not. I was not certain that Vitaly knew who you were, though my suspicion was strong enough to bring me here, into…” he searched his mind for the right phrase.

  “The lion’s den?” Jillian suggested.

  “Yes, this. I worked hard to get away from Vitaly, to convince him that I was dead. Putting myself in his territory again was uncomfortable.”

  She studied him. “But you were worried about me.”

  He nodded. “It did not seem a… coincidence,” he said. “That out of all of the places in the world Vitaly could have fled, could have reestablished his business, that he would choose the same city in which my sister resides. So I knew. He suspected that I still lived. And that he could get me to reveal myself in one way, by bringing threat to my family.”

  “Family whom you’d never even met.”

  “But still family.” He reached out to squeeze her hand. “My only family. And that would be important to him.” His voice turned hard. “An eye for an eye.”

  “Alexei, please.” Jillian brought her other hand forward so that his was clasped between both of hers. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Alexei wished he didn’t have to tell her. Wished he could be the older brother she deserved. Wished he hadn’t made the choices that he did. But he had, so there was no other recourse but to deal with them.

  “I was bored,” he explained. Which sounded like such a flimsy excuse for what happened. “Bored with ballet. Not dance,” he tried to explain “but of feeling like a piece of property more than a man. I was tired of having my every move dictated, no time for myself, no decisions left to me to make. So I rebelled.” He shrugged. “You know this part.”

  “You told me that you went a little wild. And I read the articles written about your fall from grace, as one reporter called it.”

  He nodded. “I partied. I drank. I got in fights and I made love with equal abandon. I skipped practices. I also experimented with drugs.”

  “Ah,” Jillian said. “The LSD.”

  “Among others, but it was my favorite. Some people have bad experiences,” his smile was rueful. “As you know. But for me it opened my mind, allowed me to see things from different perspective. It took me out of the prison that my life had become. Nikolai was my dealer, and he became my friend. A very dangerous friend, as it turned out.”

  When Jillian said nothing, merely waited with an expectant air, Alexei continued. “Vitaly’s organization, it is like that vine that grows around here in summer…”

  “Kudzu?”

  “Yes, that is it. It starts out small, but it keeps growing, wrapping around you and eventually smothering everything it touches. When I realized that it held me,” he clenched his fists to show the strength of the grip “it was too late. I tried to distance myself as much as possible, and was able to use my career as an excuse. But one night… something happened. Something that made me realize that I could not allow myself to continue to associate with people like this. Something that scarred my soul. And made me immeasurably angry.”

  “I hope it’s not worse than what happened to that man, Losevsky.”

  “Miron,” Alexei nodded. “He was one of Vitaly’s… I guess the word would be mules. He transported and dealt drugs, yes? But he was careless in his relationship with one of the whores – sex slaves, really – and when she escaped, she was able to give his name. His error was dealt with in the manner you heard about in your local media.”

  Jillian’s face turned pale. “Sex slaves?”

  “I apologize. I thought perhaps your FBI agent would have told you.”

  She shook her head. “He tells me only what I beg out of him, or things he thinks I need to know. He doesn’t want to risk compromising the investigation.”

  “He is man of integrity.” Alexei nodded his approval. “I determined this after watching him and researching his background.”

  Jillian smiled, just a little. “I’m glad you think so. And that man of integrity is going to be furious if I don’t contact him soon.”

  “Is that your polite way of telling me to hurry along my story?”

  “Well, I’m southern and half Russian, so hurrying a story is basically sacrilegious. But in this case… yes.”

  He grinned, enjoying her, but it quickly faded. “That night, the night that changed things, I was at party at Nikolai’s house. Alcohol, drugs, prostitutes – every vice you can think of was provided. But there was one girl there – very young girl, still a teen. She went into Nikolai’s bedroom with him, and I could hear her crying. Concerned, I listened at the door. They argued. The girl claimed to be pregnant. He laughed at her, said he didn’t care. The bastard could be anyone’s. She said the child could only be his. This made sense, as Nikolai did not like to share his women. He preferred virgins. Anyway, they fought some more, and then the argument turned very ugly. The girl was screaming at him, and I started to open the door, to intervene. But there was a shot. Nikolai killed her. A single bullet that exploded her brain.”

  “How horrible it must have been for you.”

  “More horrible for her, I would say. But yes… I thought of our mother. Of what I’d learned, from the journal you shared, about how a powerful man had impregnated her and then callously discarded her. I recalled the heartbreak in her words when she recalled the pain of having to give… to give me up. I got very angry. Nikolai exited the room, saw me and stopped. And then he smiled. Said something like problem solved, and then urged me to return to the party. He would have his men clean up the mess. The mess, as if this young girl’s life were equivalent to a dog piddling on the carpet. It was then that I knew that I had to do something.”

  “Oh Alexei.” She squeezed the hand she still held. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It was my bed to lie in. It took me a while to figure out the best way. I wanted justice for that dead girl and the baby she carried. But I knew that some of the police were in… Vitaly’s pants?”

  Jillian laughed, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I feel terrible for laughing right now. But I think the phrase you’re looking for is in his pocket.”

  Alexei smiled. “Ah. And I guess the other sounds more like… I can understand why you found it amusing.”

  “A little unintentional comic relief,” she said. “And I guess it’s the same in most countries – some of the police are interested in serving and protecting the public, and some are there for their own power and material gain. I guess you found some that you felt you could trust.”

  “I did. And I helped them set a trap for Nikolai. But unfortunately, one of the cops who was not so trustworthy must have gotten word to him, because he was expecting them. There was a fight, lots of gunfire. Nikolai was killed.”

  “Making you enemy number one with his father.”

  “Precisely. One of the police officers that I trusted, he helped me to fake my death. An unclaimed body was placed in my car, the records from my teeth,” he tapped them “were exchanged, because the body was burned beyond recognition when the car exploded. Part of the plan.”

  “But Vitaly didn’t believe it?”

  “He may have at first. But he was devastated, enraged at the loss of his son. He went after the police officers involved in the raid, those who had survived. The one I trusted was killed. Tortured. I am sure he must have told Vitaly everything before he died.”

  Jillian closed her eyes. “It’s all starting to make a terrible kind of sense. Now he really does want you dead. And he’s using this campaign against me to… what, lure you out?”

  Alexei felt nauseated. Sick at her misconception. “No, he wants to kill you. He only wants to make certain that I am around to see it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  SHAKEN, Jillian stood in her darkened kitchen, arms wrapped around
her waist as if to keep herself from flying apart.

  “The house is empty,” Alexei said. They’d checked it from top to bottom before he was willing to leave her alone.

  “You got in,” she reminded him. “As did this Vitaly or whoever he sent to mess with the matryoshka. And whoever took Jesse’s shirt.”

  “That was before you changed the alarm system,” her brother reminded her. “And I have checked the windows upstairs, and none of them are unlocked.” He frowned. “I suspect that detective may have had something to do with it.”

  “The detective? You mean Detective Gannon?”

  “The one who is dead, yes.”

  “You saw him here?”

  “The same night he and the other detective were here to question you, the dead one – Gannon – he came back later, alone. I saw him outside when I was returning from…”

  When he trailed off, Jillian’s brows drew together. “Returning from what?”

  His gaze shifted to the side. “I had a… discussion with the two idiots who broke the windows in your car.”

  “You –” Jillian stopped and shook her head. “I don’t think I want to know, because I have a feeling that discussion in reality means something entirely less benign, and I’m going to tell Jesse everything we’ve discussed. I’d prefer not to implicate you any more than I absolutely have to.”

  Happy to change the subject, Alexei went back to his original point. “Perhaps the detective did something to the alarm, or found a way around it. Maybe he was one of those in Vitaly’s pocket.”

  “I don’t even know how he died,” Jillian said. “Jesse wouldn’t say, and the newspaper report was evasive. But the cops came here and took away a bunch of our Christmas decorations, of all things. I’m assuming they had something to do with his death.”

  Alexei frowned. “Christmas decorations.”

  “The lights in particular.”

  Alexei made a noise of disgust. “Vitaly. It is message to me, I am sure of it. The party I was at, the one where Nikolai killed the girl. It was a holiday party,” Alexei explained.

  “Oh.”

  After hesitating for a brief moment, Alexei leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “Call your FBI agent. Tell him everything. I will wait until he is on his way so that you are not alone.”

  “I wish you would wait and talk to him yourself.”

  She knew it was a futile hope even before he shook his head. “I cannot be taken into custody. You know this.”

  “He’ll want to know where we went.”

  “And you will tell him. They will likely search the apartment, but they will find nothing. I have made plans to move to another location. I hope they will not waste time looking for me, when I have given them enough information to understand that it is Vitaly whom they should be seeking.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t see you again,” Jillian admitted.

  He hesitated. “You will. Now call your agent.”

  Alexei waited while Jillian dialed Jesse’s cell number from the house phone, smiled sympathetically when Jillian winced at his tone.

  “He’s on his way,” Jillian said. “And he ordered you to stay put until he gets here.”

  Alexei smiled, revealing those charming dimples. “It is unfortunate for him that I do not take orders very well any longer.” He caught Jillian in a brief but fierce embrace. “Take care of yourself, mladshaya sestra”

  Jillian watched as he slid out the back door, graceful and elusive as a feral cat. When he’d gone, she quickly set the alarm. And then eyed the pistol Alexei had insisted on leaving with her. She’d taken a firearms course when she’d moved back to her hometown, but her ex-husband hadn’t been a fan of guns so she hadn’t acquired one. But at least she knew how to shoot it if someone broke in before the cavalry got here.

  Which turned out to be a remarkably short time.

  The pounding on the backdoor within minutes after Alexei’s departure caused her to palm the pistol. It wasn’t until Jesse demanded that she open the door that Jillian laid it aside.

  With a shaking hand, she punched in the code to turn off the alarm she’d just set, and then opened the door to a furious and fuming FBI agent. Who had his own weapon drawn.

  Jillian sucked in a breath.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s gone.”

  Jesse brushed past her, seeming not to believe what she’d said.

  “Jesse…” Jillian shut the door and then followed after him as he began searching. “Alexei isn’t here.”

  “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t quite believe you.” He disappeared down the basement stairs. After he’d returned, Jillian once again locked the deadbolt on that door before following him past the open powder room and toward the den. Deciding that the Christmas tree wasn’t hiding any errant Russian ballet dancers in its branches, he moved on to the parlor. Finally, he rounded the corner to head upstairs.

  Jillian stifled a sigh and followed him. “Look, I know you must be upset with me for leaving but –”

  “Upset?” Jesse said, coming to a stop in the upstairs hall. “Why would I be upset that you waltzed out of the hospital with your supposedly dead brother – at least the man you claim to be your brother.”

  Jillian gaped. “He is my brother.”

  “Fine, let’s say he is. He’s also a man who was a known confident of one of the foulest criminals Russia has ever produced. A criminal who has apparently graced our southern shores, bringing his stench with him. A criminal who has brutally murdered or attempted to murder three, maybe four people within the past month – that I know of. And you left the hospital with the one man we know is connected to him. Voluntarily. Leaving your cell phone – the one means I might have of tracking you or communicating with you – behind. Of course that’s not upsetting.”

  “Just let me explain.”

  “Oh, you’ll explain alright.” He opened the door to Katie’s bedroom, checked under the bed, the en suite bath and the walk-in closet.

  Jillian decided to simply wait in the hall while he repeated the process with the office and her bedroom. When he was satisfied that she was indeed telling the truth, he holstered his gun and pulled out his cell phone.

  “He’s not here,” he said to someone, probably Brian, while Jillian muttered “Told you.”

  He sent her a glare and then engaged in a bunch of cop speak, no doubt organizing the search Alexei had hoped they wouldn’t waste their time with. Jillian interrupted him to give him the information about Alexei’s apartment, because she didn’t want to appear to be withholding anything. Jesse stared at her while he passed along the address.

  “What was he driving?”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “How did you get here from the hospital?”

  “We walked for a block or two and then caught a cab. You can probably call the company to verify that.” She gave him the name.

  He issued some more orders over the phone, never taking his eyes off of her. Jillian started to feel unnerved. There was no warmth in his gaze, in his tone. He looked and sounded like a stranger.

  Like a cop.

  When he ended the call, he shoved his phone into his pocket. And then he backed her against the wall.

  “Jesse, you’re frightening me.”

  “Then we’re even,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, placing his palms on either side of her and caging her between his arms. “Do you have any idea how fucking terrified I was when I found your phone, but couldn’t find you? Or how sick I felt when I saw the video of you leaving the hospital with Alexei?”

  “I’m sorry. I understand that you’re upset. There wasn’t time –”

  “There wasn’t time,” he interrupted with a nod, as if that were a perfectly reasonable explanation.

  “Jesse –”

  “No. Not yet. I don’t want to hear it yet.”

  She could feel the tension vibrating in his arms as he leaned into them, leaned into her. His mouth, when it took h
ers, demanded rather than coaxed. She could all but taste his fury.

  Jillian raised her hands to his chest, started to push him away, but her fingers curled in, clutching at his shirt instead. When his tongue parted her lips, it was a moan rather than a protest that escaped them.

  The sound snapped whatever thin leash might have been holding him back, and Jesse yanked her pants down her legs, growling when they got hung up on her boots. He brought her left leg up, unzipped that boot and tossed it aside, not taking the time to deal with the other. Her pants were dangling from one leg while he undid his fly. Her underwear he simply ripped aside. Within moments, he was inside her.

  Jillian cried out with the shock of his sudden possession. She grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling them shake from the adrenaline coursing through his body. Knowing that he was in the grip of an emotional storm, she held on tightly and didn’t resist. Couldn’t resist. All of the fear and frustration and anger and uncertainty of the past several weeks coalesced into pure, animalistic lust. They mated there in the hall outside her bedroom door, permeating the air with the smell of musk.

  When the tension finally broke, it was with every bit as much intensity as a summer thunderstorm.

  With his forehead resting on the wall a mere inch from Jillian’s ear, she could hear, feel every labored breath Jesse exhaled. And then finally, the raspy words.

  “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  “I won’t. Not by choice.”

  Slowly, he let go of her legs until she was standing, albeit shakily. He adjusted himself, and then bent down to help her put her leg back into her pants.

  When she was clothed again, he stood and met her gaze. His was resolute. “Take a few minutes to get cleaned up, and then we’ll talk. And you’re going to tell me. Everything.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  JESSE braced his forearm on the window frame, peering through the glass at the birds in the courtyard next door. A robin – at least he thought it was a robin – splashed in a fancy pedestal bath while a pair of smaller birds, maybe sparrows, shared the bounty from one of the many feeders. He imagined that in the warmer months, the pots scattered around held blooming things that would attract hummingbirds. Red. He seemed to recall reading that hummingbirds were attracted to red.