CROW (Boston Underworld Book 1)

by A. Zavarelli

  Someone’s probably in there, no doubt. And I have to walk right past it to get downstairs. How the hell I went from being trapped inside the Irish mafia to the Russian, I haven’t a clue. I have to wonder if there are more men here that I don’t know about. Surely, Lachlan must trust them to protect me. But he has to know I would do this. That I would try to get to him. What were his orders in such circumstances?

  There’s only one way to find out.

  I wait for a full two minutes and hear nothing. But instead of creeping past, my curiosity gets the better of me. I push open the door, and stand in the frame. Alexei is passed out on his desk, bottle of Cognac still in hand. But it isn’t the sight of him that has me in a state of shock. It’s the room filled with an entire wall of monitors that surrounds him.

  My eyes rove over the screens, and it takes me a minute to realize what they’re for. There are live poker tournaments, chess games, horse racing, and pretty much anything that can be considered gambling on display.

  It looks like there’s some kind of programmed bot set up. At the bottom of the screen, there are a bunch of codes running. I don’t have a clue what they mean, but I’ve got a pretty good guess. The Irish are working with the Russians. Is this what they’re dealing in? Illegal gambling rings?

  Before I have a chance to come to a decision on my own, Alexei’s eyes snap open and find mine. He drags himself into an upright position and scrubs a hand over his face. He doesn’t look surprised in the slightest that I stumbled into this room, but I still have to wonder.

  “Is this what the Irish are doing?” I blurt.

  He gives me a cursory glance before pouring himself another glass of Cognac.

  “What did you expect?” he arches a brow at me. “Backyard poker games?”

  “Pretty much,” I admit.

  “Those are the old ways.” He waves his hand around the room and shrugs. “This is the future.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I ask suspiciously.

  “I’m not telling you anything you cannot see for yourself.”

  “I have to go,” I tell him firmly.

  He sighs. It’s clear he’s been expecting this.

  “You want to go to Lachlan, yes?”

  “Yes. And I need a car,” I suggest boldly.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that.”

  He’s not making a move towards me. He doesn’t even look like he intends to. But there’s something ominous about his words that make me hesitate instead of bolting out the door.

  “And why not?”

  He grabs a remote and points it towards the monitors, pressing a few buttons. And then my worst fears come to life.

  There, on the screen in front of me, is Scarlett. She’s being held inside a hotel room by none other than Rory.

  “What the fuck?” I scream. “He promised! He promised he wouldn’t hurt her!”

  “She’s not being harmed,” Alexei says and then points. “Look.”

  I do. I walk to the screen and take a closer look. Scarlett is curled up on the hotel bed watching tv. She doesn’t look uncomfortable, or like she’s been hurt in any way. But Rory isn’t talking to her. He isn’t even looking at her. He’s just sitting by the door, gun in hand, thumbing through a magazine.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat and look at the man across from me. The one I don’t know, but who Lachlan trusts. I want to rip his throat out.

  “You said you were going to help me,” I snap. “That’s what you told Lachlan.”

  “This is me helping you,” he says. “And that is Lachlan’s insurance policy that you will do what I say. He knew you would cause trouble.”

  My eyes water when the realization of my circumstances hits me. Lachlan is using Scarlett as leverage to keep me here.

  “It’s entirely up to you whether or not your friend is harmed,” Alexei adds.

  “How do I know you’re not just saying this for show?”

  “Do you really want to find out?” he asks.

  When I look at him, I know he’s mafia through and through. Dark and deadly. And I don’t doubt that he’d follow through on his unspoken threat, but I still can’t believe Lachlan would do this to me. He made me a promise. A promise that he broke. And he expects me to just let him forfeit his life while I’m trapped in this fucking house.

  “There’s something else,” Alexei says.

  I glance at him, still torn between what to do. I have to get to Lachlan. But I can’t let Scarlett get hurt. What the fuck am I going to do? I barely even hear his next words. Until he says the name that almost always rips my heart in two.

  “Talia?”

  “What?” I ask.

  He points at the screen, and I swivel around again. And then I nearly collapse from the sight before me.

  “This is her, yes?”

  I stare at the photo on the screen, touching it as though it’s just an illusion. Something that he’s concocted to trick me. But it isn’t. She’s there, and she looks so thin and gaunt, and she’s wearing mere scraps of clothing. It’s just a shot of her body as she stands with her back against a blank wall. Almost like a mug shot, and I barely recognize the lifeless eyes staring back at me. This doesn’t make sense.

  “Where is she?” I demand. “How did you get this?”

  He doesn’t answer, and that’s when I remember he can’t hear. I swivel around and stare at him while I repeat my questions.

  “I said I would help you find her,” he answers.

  He stares past me and at the screen, looking at her face. I hate this guy for what he’s doing to me right now, but the way he’s looking at her… as though he’s really seeing her, it’s what I’ve wanted all along. What I begged of every detective I ever shoved this photo in front of. I just wanted them to see her. And for the first time, I finally feel like Alexei is.

  “You know where she is?” I whisper.

  He studies me before pouring himself another glass of Cognac.

  “I’m tracking her,” he says. “But I know she is overseas. And I will continue to help you as long as you do what I ask.”

  I ignore the threat in his tone and focus on the small bit of information I’m trying like hell to grasp. “What do you mean overseas?”

  His eyes snap up to mine, and after a year of searching, I finally get my answer.

  “She has been sold.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Mackenzie

  I’m still grappling with what Alexei told me when a barrage of shouting echoes up from downstairs. I glance at Alexei, wondering if he can hear it too.

  He’s already got his hand on the remote, flipping through the monitors. My attention darts back to the screen to find Ronan storming through the halls of the house with Franco hot on his heels. Alexei stalks out of the room and I follow, and eventually we all converge at the base of the stairs.

  Ronan doesn’t even spare me a glance, and he’s even more stiff than usual. Something is off. He clips out a stream of perfect Russian, or at least what sounds like perfect Russian. I can’t understand any of it, but soon him and Alexei are arguing.

  “English, please?” I ask.

  Ronan flashes his eyes at me, only for a second, but they are shining with hatred.

  “Is he okay?” I demand. “Is Lach okay?”

  “He sent me to take you to another safe house,” Ronan says. “This one’s been compromised.”

  I glance at Alexei, who doesn’t look convinced. To be honest, I’m not really either. But Ronan couldn’t have known I was here unless Lachlan told him, right? And he’s always trusted Ronan to be my handler. Still, something about this feels fishy. But if there’s a chance for me to get back to Lachlan somehow, I’m going to take it.

  “I will deliver the girl personally,” Alexei says. “If what you say is true, you should have no problem with this.”

  Ronan gives a stiff nod.

  The next two minutes is a blur of Alexei
barking out demands in Russian to Franco and Ronan watching me carefully. They usher me out the door and into a silver car while Ronan climbs into the Beamer and takes his place in front of us.

  As we drive through the forest, I try to formulate an escape plan. Now I have three men to shake off, and it isn’t going to be so easy. Especially considering I gave Ronan the slip once, I highly doubt he’s going to let that happen again.

  But it doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes, I tell myself. I have to. Because I can’t let Lachlan sacrifice himself for me and the mistakes I’ve made. I can’t let him die because of my actions. I love him. I love him so fucking much it’s crazy. I thought I was incapable of such things. I know I’m incapable of loving anyone else this way.

  I don’t know how he did that. How he got past my armor. But he did. He tore it all to bits.

  Ronan’s brake lights flash ahead of us.

  Franco snaps out something in Russian, and both him and Alexei pull out their guns.

  “What’s going on?” I shove my head between the seats, trying to see what’s happening.

  The next thing I know, there are two loud pops and a hiss of air as the front tires of the car deflate. Alexei and Franco are speaking in Russian, glancing behind us, and I’m getting the gist that someone’s just fired those shots from the trees somewhere.

  So why the hell is Ronan stopped?

  Glass shatters as they take out the tail lights next.

  “Jesus!” I duck and take cover. “Who the fuck is shooting at us now?”

  The men jump out of the front and crouch behind the doors as they fire back. There seems to be some confusion about which direction the bullets are coming from. Like there might be two shooters. And I know instinctively, one of them is Ronan. Either way, I’m not going to stick around to find out. I grab for the door handle and fling it open. I know we’re a whole hell of a long way off the beaten path here, but I’ve got to get away from these crazy motherfuckers.

  Ronan’s got to be absolutely frigging nuts, shooting at the Russians like this.

  He has to know this is going to start a war. I can’t understand what’s happening, but honestly, I don’t care. I don’t have time for whatever the hell they’re doing, or whatever plan they’ve concocted for me. I just need to get to Lachlan.

  I army crawl across the forest floor, my chest heaving with relief as the sound of gunfire grows more and more distant. Pine needles and cold gravel dig into my skin, but none of that matters. As soon as I’m far enough away, I’ll start running. I’ll steal a car if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes.

  All these thoughts are going through my head and they’re the only thing I can focus on. So when someone grabs me from behind and covers my mouth with a foul smelling cloth, it catches me off guard. Much too late, I realize I’ve just been chloroformed.

  ***

  When I wake up again, I’m hog-tied on the back seat of Ronan’s car. I’ve got a wicked bad headache and the way my body feels I’m guessing they weren’t all too gentle when they went about the business of tying me up.

  I wrangle myself into an upright position and glance out the window. We’re on the freeway, headed back towards Boston. Relief swells inside of me like a balloon, but it’s short lived.

  Conor is riding shotgun, and he’s pale as a sheet. Ronan’s grip is like a vice on the steering wheel, and nothing about this situation is making any sense at all.

  “What happened to Alexei?” I demand.

  Ronan’s gaze meets mine in the rear-view mirror, and it’s never looked colder.

  “Are ye sympathizing with the Russians now?” he asks. “Lachlan told me ye hated them. Not surprised that was a lie too.”

  I ignore his jab and focus on what’s important. “There’s no way Lach would have authorized you starting a war with the Russians. I want to know what’s going on.”

  Ronan laughs. A cold, dark laugh that reaches deep inside of me to unlock an entire vault full of dread. What if he was right in front of me all along? What if he’s the rat? It never even occurred to me before, but now…

  “Where are you taking me?” I press. “I want to see Lachlan.”

  “Oh ye’re going to see Lachlan alright,” he says. “Didn’t I tell ye what’d happen if you fucked him over?”

  Conor glances back at me, and he looks like he’s going to be sick. And that’s when I realize Ronan isn’t the rat at all. He’s gone rogue. To protect Lachlan.

  “You’re taking me to Niall,” I say quietly. “Aren’t you?”

  Ronan doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. His hatred towards me is rolling off him in waves. His loyalty to Lachlan runs much deeper than I ever could have expected. And there’s a good chance he’ll be paying a heavy price for this as well.

  “What about Scarlett?” I ask quietly. “She didn’t have anything to do with this… please…”

  Ronan keeps his eyes fixed on the road, but his voice is calm and steady. “No harm will come to her.”

  I believe him. I don’t know if it’s just because I have to, that I can’t accept any other option, but I do believe him when he says this. I sit back against the seat and the car falls silent as we drive on. Though I know they aren’t going to be very receptive to anything I have to say, I talk anyway.

  “I never wanted to hurt him. I was just trying to find out what happened to my friend.”

  As I expect, neither of them responds.

  For the rest of the ride, I try to formulate the words that will clear Lachlan. That will absolve him of any guilt in this situation. But they don’t come to me. I don’t know what I’m going to say when I face Niall. I only hope I can make it count.

  When we pull up to the back of Slainte, it’s after hours. The club is shut down, but the familiar cars of Lach’s crew fill up the lot. Ronan opens the backdoor and removes the binds before tugging me to my feet.

  And then he stares at me, with the briefest moment of hesitation.

  “Ye shouldn’t have done it,” he says quietly.

  And then he’s tugging me along, Conor dragging his feet beside me. When we get inside, the place is dead quiet. Ronan and Conor glance at each other, and then Ronan jerks his head towards the basement. They usher me along and down the stairs. Ronan unlocks a room I’ve never been in before and then gives me one last look of regret before he swings the door open.

  When I get a look inside, I know this is where I’m going to die.

  ***

  Lachlan

  Fucking Ronan.

  It makes no difference that the Russians are banging down our doors. The moment I spot him, I clatter him in the face. He lets me get two in before Rory yanks me away.

  “I did it for your own good,” he snarls. “I won’t allow ye to give yourself up for her.”

  Sentimental bastard. He doesn’t understand. Though I’d venture if it was Sasha’s arse on the line he’d be whistling a different tune.

  “That wasn’t your decision to make,” I tell him.

  “Both of youse shut the fuck up,” Niall yells. “We’ve got your mess to clean up now.”

  Ronan and I both follow Niall down the hall without another word. He nods at Conor, and the front door opens. Alexei, Franco, Viktor, and the rest of their outfit filter inside. They’re loaded down with armed weapons, as are we.

  Alexei meets my eyes briefly before he turns his head away. He’s aware this wasn’t my doing. It’s out of my control, as is whatever happens next.

  “I want a word with Niall,” Viktor says. “In private.”

  Sean and I both step forward, but Viktor holds up his hand.

  “Only him.” He points at Alexei.

  The lot of them walk down the hall towards my office to seal my fate. There’s no question what they’ll be discussing in that room. Everything I’ve ever wanted is being torn from my hands right in front of me. None of it matters. The burn of uncertainty is only made worse by the fact I still
haven’t a clue where Mack is.

  Ronan took her against my knowledge. I’m going to murder him the first chance I get.

  Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. When thirty have come and gone, the agitation is getting to me. Something about this isn’t right.

  A gunshot goes off, and a moment later, we’re all holding our weapons at each other. Franco tells his men to stand down in Russian as he eyes me off.

  “We’ll check it out together,” he says.

  Him and I both walk down the hall in silence. The office door is cracked, and all three men have their guns pointed at the door in confusion.

  “That wasn’t in here?”

  “No,” Niall curses.

  My eyes move to the floor beneath as Viktor speaks.

  “Ivan’s downstairs, yes?”

  Niall must’ve told Viktor we captured him. If they’ve got one of their men down there, this is not going to end well.

  “He’s a traitor.”

  “Lachlan,” Niall’s voice is thin with warning, but I can’t look at him. My eyes are locked onto Viktor, waiting for his next move.

  “He will be handled accordingly,” Viktor says.

  “Aye, he will,” I say. “By our lads.”

  “He isn’t the only one downstairs,” Conor says from the doorway.

  His eyes are wide, and he doesn’t need to say anything else. I’m legging it downstairs before I’ve even fully processed what’s happening. The lads are following me, but Ronan must be down there already.

  All of us come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. As I anticipated, Ivan is shot and laying in a pool of blood on the floor. But it isn’t by one of the Russians.

  Above him, Mandy and Donny both have a grip on Mack, each of them holding a gun to her head as they lead her towards the back door. My first instinct is to go to her, and my body obeys.

  “Don’t come any closer!” Mandy yells.

  The gun in her hand flies in my direction, and Mack starts pleading with her. Mandy’s eyes are crazed, her hair wild, and there’s blood smeared all over her shirt. I can’t wrap my head around what’s happening here.