“I’m trying. I feel guilty,” he admitted, hoping the people around him would understand.
It appeared they did.
“This is not on you. It’s on Raye,” Ethan stated. “Head home, try to hold on, and I’ll make sure you get the intel you need. I know who to use.”
He was curious.
That was quick. It was more proof that Ethan Blackhawk needed to stay at the FBI. The man had everything in control—and that was a damn good thing.
“You’ll hear from me.”
That worked for him. Greyson had been a director. He knew that the deputy director and the big man had ways of handling just about every situation.
“I think I’ll take that advice. I miss my wife, and I should get home to her.”
He stood.
“Come on, Heath.”
The man was covered in cookie crumbs.
“These were good,” he stated, handing Elizabeth back the empty tin.
“Really?” Greyson stated. “You didn’t save me one damn cookie? I’m this far away from the carb police, and you couldn’t save one for me?”
The man smiled his big, toothy grin that he gave right before he was going to bust some major ass.
“Well, to be honest, boss, Emma gave me a hundred bucks not to let you eat any carbs while we were away,” he admitted.
Yeah, that sounded about right.
Elizabeth laughed her ass off. She was always amused that the man who headed a mob family was brought to his knees by a woman—over carbs.
That was some funny shit.
Greyson wasn’t shocked that his wife was playing dirty. He knew her well. Since his cookie luck had run out, he opted to say his goodbyes. One-by-one, he shook all of their hands.
“Again, thank you.”
“Friends are always welcome here,” Ethan stated. “While you fear what people say, Grey, I don’t. I have a bed full of people, and one of them has a way of ending up in the media coverage.”
They both pointed at Elizabeth.
“HAR-HAR.”
Greyson got it.
Ethan wasn’t concerned. That was where he was in life at that point. Croft figured that was the way to be at this stage in his chaos-filled life.
Who was going to question a Blackhawk?
Ethan was the freaking Deputy Director of the FBI. Who was going to say shit about him?
They’d be insane.
Elizabeth gave Heath a hug.
“We miss you, big guy. Be safe out there. Come see me again,” she stated.
“Awww, you are totally a mom,” he said, squeezing her tight.
Then, he set her free and saluted Ethan.
“You know, sir, in case I don’t get to see you if you become vice president.”
Ethan smiled at the ex-soldier. Once a Marine, always a Marine.
“At ease, soldier.”
Then, he was gone.
Together, Greyson and Heath headed out. In the limo, Greyson closed his eyes and for the first time in weeks, he felt calmer than he’d been.
The last three months had been hell, and now, he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He was putting all of his faith in Ethan Blackhawk.
“Feel better, boss?” Heath asked when he saw that Greyson, finally, looked less stressed. He’d been worried about him and the family. He loved being part of them, and he felt horrible that he couldn’t fix this mess.
“A little. Now let’s get home and see if the Blackhawks can come up with something. I need to find Poppy Wayne and bring her home if it’s the last thing I do.”
Heath got that.
Dimitri was one hot mess, and he was seconds from dropping the ball. In their lives, that meant someone’s life.
He tapped on the privacy glass.
“Get us to the airport. Mr. C wants to get home to the missus. Step on it.”
They were off.
The limo headed back down the long drive and toward the heart of DC. While he’d had a good outcome from this visit, there was still a little fear living inside him.
How could it not?
Things didn’t generally go his way, and Greyson was dreading what was to come. There were so many ways this could go bad, and he was expecting it to go to shit.
That tended to be the outcome in Vegas.
When he got home, Greyson only hoped the Blackhawks would come through.
It wasn’t only for him.
No.
Everyone’s well-being was riding on it.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Somewhere In
The USA
Poppy Wayne wasn’t doing well, despite believing that leaving Las Vegas was the best thing for her. Instead of feeling like she could handle it, the opposite was true.
Everything scared her, and with each bump outside her rented cabin, she thought he was coming for her.
With each sound, the big, bad boogeyman was waiting to hurt her.
It was like being a child, afraid of what lurked under her bed, but not having a parent there to tell her it was all right.
The fear was consuming her.
Yes, she was a hot mess.
Poppy had never been this frightened before in her life, and that was saying a lot. Her past had been horrible, and yet, this was her breaking point. Yes, she’d been a scared kid who came home to find her dead mother and sister, but even that didn’t compare to this.
Why?
She felt hunted.
She was prey.
A part of her knew she was going to die in that cabin without anyone knowing where she was. A part of her knew she’d been stupid to run from Dimitri and the Crofts.
Only, at the time, she needed space.
She was damaged goods, and Dimitri had witnessed her rape firsthand.
What kind of person would want her now?
While she ran because of Jeffrey Raye, she also ran because she couldn't bear seeing the look on Dimitri’s face when he had to walk away.
Poppy was pretty sure that Dimitri would be disgusted to even be near her.
How could he not?
She was disgusted to be near herself.
After being violated, Poppy knew nothing could be the same again. There would never be that gentle calm that she found in his arms. There would never be happiness for her. A part of her was ripped from her soul, and she didn’t think she’d be whole again.
Poppy was broken beyond anything.
She had nightmares.
She was afraid.
She couldn’t focus.
There was no way she could be a girlfriend, lover, or employee. There was no way she could go back to what she’d once been.
She was destroyed.
Jeffrey Raye had wanted her ruined, and he’d managed to destroy her. Poppy had lost her career, and worse, she’d lost Dimitri Gideon.
A part of her wanted blood.
She wanted to hate the world, destroy love and happiness, and kill Jeffrey Raye.
God!
She needed his blood on her hands, his head on a silver platter, and justice done. That would be the only way she’d be able to find peace.
Only, she knew better.
There would be no justice—not for her, and not for the life she’d just lost.
Why had she been so naïve to think that she’d have that fairytale ending when her existence was anything but?
The handsome man.
The life in the ivory tower of Sky Villa?
Why did she think she was worthy of that when she’d come from nothing?
No.
She wasn’t.
This rape had ended any chance of that dream happening. She was sullied, ruined, and destroyed.
She was beyond vile.
Why would a man like Dimitri even want to be near her? He had everything in life that he could want, and surely, he wouldn’t want some defiled woman on his arm.
He was rich.
Powerful.
Strong.
&nb
sp; Poppy knew that before it was a stretch, but she’d at least been his. She’d at least had her body to give to him as a way to connect them, but now…
He’d seen her rape.
Dimitri had walked in while some man was violating her, and he knew that she could no longer offer him that.
Period.
Her hopes and dreams were dead.
She was sickening.
She was weak.
She was a coward.
What she wanted to do was keep running until she couldn’t run anymore.
Only, she had limited funds.
Limited being a stretch.
Pathetic was a better word—like her life.
This small cabin had been her only option. She had about two months’ worth of savings left, and then she’d be destitute and homeless.
Oh, the irony. She’d worked so damn hard her whole life to make something of herself, and she was back at square one.
Poor.
Broken.
Destroyed.
She couldn’t go back to Vegas.
No, she wouldn’t go back as long as Jeffrey Raye was around, that wasn’t a possibility.
What also wasn’t a possibility?
Her choice in careers.
She couldn’t find a job as a cop. Someone might check her references, and she knew well enough that would mean being found. Deep down, she knew that the second Jeffrey Raye found her, she was dead.
She had seen it in his eyes as he snuck into her hospital room. She’d thought it was Dimitri coming back, and when she opened her eyes with him standing above her…that panic came.
The words he’d whispered had terrified her.
She had no choice but to run.
Then she was faced with fear.
Now she was faced with terror.
How was she going to survive without a job? How was she going to put a roof over her head and food in her belly? When she ran, these things hadn’t been an issue.
Now?
As the clock ticked, she was acutely aware of them. Time was NOT on her side.
Gone was the comfortable life.
Here to stay was the fear.
Poppy had so much worry on her shoulders, that the rape was the least of it.
She needed to figure this out.
She needed to focus.
Only, it was so damn hard.
As she lay on the couch in the small cabin, she did the only thing she could do.
She cried.
There was no hope for her. After everything that happened, she knew only one thing.
Her rapist should have ended her.
Poppy Wayne, once strong and unbreakable, wished she was dead, and in sixty days when she ran out of money, she might not have a choice.
Her future was bleak.
No.
It was non-existent.
Chapter One
Two Days Later
Monday Morning
Sky Villa
Las Vegas, Nevada
O ne of the best things about Mondays was that the week was brand-new, and everything was starting fresh again. In their lives, that fresh start mattered most. As people who thrived on second chances, that dawning of a new week brought one thing.
Hope.
Only, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. One of the worst things about Monday was that you were coming off of a weekend and starting it with working out as a team in the gym.
It was self-inflicted torture.
Frankly, it was hell, and no one looked forward to it.
Well, almost no one.
The boss was the only one who ever enjoyed running them into the ground, and the last three months had been even worse. He’d taken a sadistic pleasure in making them bleed.
Literally.
They had become his literal punching bags.
Oh, it beyond sucked.
Dimitri was working them so damn hard that there was no pleasure in it at all.
In fact, he was brutal.
Kat had been knocked over more times than not when he’d been focused on her, and Chris had taken a fist to the face that made his nose bleed.
It was done under the guise of training, but they were all the wiser that it was because he was losing control.
Dimitri was teetering, and they could tell it was going to be a bad week.
With each time he ordered them up, Dimitri didn’t look like he was going to be giving up any time soon. While they were taking the blows, he was fine dishing them out.
He was punishing them.
Even Heath, sweet, gentle Heath, was lying on his back with a split lip.
They were getting their asses handed to them by a pissed off Russian killer.
Why?
Poppy Wayne ran.
Now they would pay.
“Get up!” he ordered in Russian.
They’d heard it enough to know what it meant. While Kat spoke the language, Heath and Chris did not. Still, they knew what he wanted.
Blood.
Yeah, someone was pissy today.
“I’m done,” Chris said, getting up from the mat. “I’m finished for today. I think I’ve had about enough of your ass kicking to last me all week.”
That was a lie.
The last three months would last him a lifetime.
“We are not done,” Dimitri stated. “We’ve only begun,” he added. The accent was MIA—like his compassion—and he was ready for another round.
Chris wasn’t having it.
“Oh, WE are done. You’ve kicked the shit out of us to appease some sick need to hurt those of us who didn’t do jack shit to you.”
The room went silent.
No one dared question Dimitri before, but now? Yeah, that was asking for bad things.
Kat stared at Chris with big eyes, shaking her head.
Jesus!
She couldn’t believe he was going there. For the last three months, they’d walked on eggshells to keep the peace. Clearly, Chris was at his breaking point.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
Chris was sick and tired of having his ass handed to him three times a week in the name of ‘training’ so Dimitri could get out his frustrations.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t right.
Truth be told, they were all frustrated.
They were all angry.
They were all hurting over what had gone down, and if they could, they would have been faster to get to Poppy. Only, you couldn’t change the past. You could only learn from it.
Dimitri had stopped learning.
Beating on your loved ones and calling it ‘training’ was bullshit. The man could be as angry as he wanted. Chris wasn’t taking it.
He.
Was.
Done.
They all had a breaking point, and he was at his. Call him stupid, but for the last three months, they’d swallowed it for Dimitri. They’d iced their bruises, called it a day, and tried not to make him angrier.
Well, he was done.
Fuck that.
“I think you heard me. I’m done with this. You’re taking your aggression out on me. Worse, you’re taking your aggression out on Kat.”
Everyone held their breath.
Only, Chris was not done.
“Hell! You’re beating on Heath! The man hasn’t even done a damn thing to you. He’s not even our employee, and you’re booting his ass around this gym because you told him he’s getting soft. Enough, Dimitri. Enough. We are your partners—not your minions.”
“We train,” he said, nothing but ice in his voice.
They missed his accent. It had gone by the wayside. For Poppy, he’d let it out. Now, it was missing—like her.
“This isn’t training. This is abuse.”
Kat gasped.
Oh, this was bad.
A bloody battle was coming.
“I say we train…,” Dimitri began. “That’s the end of it.”
Oh, they were at the end, all ri
ght.
Chris helped Kat up.
“BULLSHIT! You hit your own sister so hard she couldn’t get up. You nearly broke my fucking arm. We are done, and we aren’t coming back to this gym until you lose the anger.”
Chris took a stand.
“This is my…”
He stopped him.
“No, Dimitri. It’s not your team. Kat and I each own a third of it. We are equal partners. I’m done with this. You can’t fire me, you can’t break me because you’re mad, and you can’t treat any of us like this. We didn’t make Poppy leave.”
Kat cringed.
Oh, Jesus.
Here it came.
Saying her name was the one surefire way to make Dimitri lose it. When he even saw the color, he lost it. Throwing this down was definitely the way to start a fight.
Dimitri moved fast.
She watched in horror as her brother grabbed the man by the front of his T-shirt and went to wail on him.
Only, he didn’t get the chance.
Someone came from the side and saved Chris by knocking Dimitri off of his feet.
Greyson.
“It ends here,” he stated. He’d watched them work out, and he’d seen enough. Chris was not the man’s whipping boy, and he was not letting Dimitri vent his anger on Kat, his daughter-in-law.
This wasn’t the man he’d once been.
Greyson, as his friend, knew that the old Dimitri would want him to stop this. The new man was out of control, and someone had to be that kill switch.
It was him.
“They are done, Dimitri.”
The room went silent.
Greyson stood over him.
“I’ve seen enough,” he said, knowing it was time to handle this. He’d let the man run roughshod the last three months. Greyson had to own this.
Dimitri was done.
“You’re released of your duty,” he said, knowing he had no choice. While he loved the man, he couldn’t let him hurt the other people he loved too.
Chris hadn’t done anything, and he was right. For three months, they’d been his physical punching bags, and it was abuse. As a man, Greyson had to make a choice.
Them or Dimitri.
He would do it.
Today, it ended.
Greyson had to save who he could at this point, and whether Dimitri liked it or not, that meant the family had to come first. He wasn’t acting like he loved them, and Greyson had no choice.
No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book Page 4
