by Ann Jensen
He ripped the hood from her head as he pushed her away from him, turning to face the enemy. He saw recognition on Viktor’s face as he charged.
“Grigory?”
Max’s shoulder knocked Viktor straight into the doorframe in a blow that staggered them both. Max regretted immediately not going for his gun. Rage was the enemy of any fighter and he had let his blind him.
He wasn’t prepared for the five men who poured out of the doorway surrounding him. All his training was for nothing as they piled on him. Within seconds, Max’s head was spinning from a blow from behind.
He kicked out, hoping against hope that his reckless charge would give Cat time to escape. Kicks and punches struck him from every direction, and he knew his time was almost up. Another blow to his head had him dropping to his knees.
He looked through the legs of his attackers, hoping to see if Cat had escaped. If she hadn’t, at least they would die together.
He was losing the fight to remain conscious. Through blood and bleary eyes, he saw Akula holding a dark-haired woman at knifepoint. Shock was like lightning to his system. That woman wasn’t his Wildcat.
Chapter 29
Women are like teabags; we don’t know our own strength until we are in hot water.
* * *
Avery sat in the little diner, staring into her cup of coffee. The place was practically empty, which wasn’t a surprise since it was almost one in the morning. Why had she come here? Going anywhere near where Viktor lived was an unnecessary risk. Her original intent had been to drive around the mountain and clear her thoughts.
Instead, she found herself driving back towards the city, towards Viktor’s neighborhood. There hadn’t been a plan, just instinct. Knowing he was going to get away with everything he had done was a bitter pill. Maybe she had needed to know she could have killed the man before she could come to peace with the decision not to.
Life wasn’t fair. Far from it. If she gave into her desire for revenge, there was no way she could guarantee the blowback wouldn’t fall on the Dark Sons and their families. The idea of all those people in danger because of something she did wasn’t an outcome she could live with.
So for an hour, she had sat, drunk terrible coffee and tried to decide what it was she needed to do. What actions she could live with.
Thank God for the money and gun that she had found in the glove box of the truck. The gun gave her a small sense of security, and the money had given her options other than sitting alone in the car.
It took almost every moment of that time for her temper to cool. For her to be clear-headed enough to look at her actions and words and realize how unfair she had been to Max. Telling him he couldn’t go on the run with her was a selfish attempt to protect herself from guilt. Pure ego to think she had the right to make life-altering decisions for him.
It was his life. He had the right to choose what to do with it. Avery had to admit she loved, that for once in her life, someone was choosing her over what was easy. Max was telling her with both words and actions that she was the most important thing to him.
So what did that mean for her? There was no going back to her old life. If he was willing to travel that road with her, then she should accept it. Accept him. Now was the time to build a new life. Together they would find the best way forward. In her heart, she believed Max would help make their new life worth living. Someday she would see Nate’s murder avenged, but that didn’t have to be today.
It was time to go back and talk to Max. She dropped some money on the table and made the several block trek back to where the truck was parked. When Avery opened the door and the light flickered on. She cursed when she saw her phone sitting in the middle of the console. Her mind had been so caught up in everything that she had forgotten she’d stuck the phone in the cup holder. She settled herself in the driver’s seat and picked up the phone.
Forty-two missed calls.
Dread skittered across her skin. Every one of the calls was from Max’s number. He would be pissed at her. It had been over two hours. She hoped nothing was wrong, and he had simply gotten tired of waiting for her to return.
It was a thirty-minute drive back to the cabin. Did she want to call him back now? Or wait, so they could talk in person. It was tempting to put off his lecture. But that many missed calls seemed excessive if he was worried. Her stomach dropped. Something must have happened.
She hit the button to dial him back with a sinking feeling in her heart. After three rings, someone picked up.
“Your man is an idiot.” Akula’s voice caused her throat to tighten in shock.
“Akula?” The name was a strangled squeak and Avery cleared her throat.
“Yes, my new friend. It’s me.”
Why the hell would the crazy Russian woman have Max’s phone? “Where’s Max?”
“I’m afraid I have to tell you, your man is currently being tortured to find out your location.”
Chills spiked across her spine. Had someone found the cabin and taken him? Who took him? How did Akula get his phone? Avery punched the steering wheel, and the pain in her hand allowed her to focus. This assassin talking so casually about Max being tortured didn’t seem to understand how her words might affect her.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m guessing you ran away from him.” Shame flushed Avery’s cheeks at the woman’s accurate guess. “He must have thought you were going after Viktor. So, like a fool on a white horse, he charged in to save you. Unfortunately for him, his timing was crap. He mistook Maria Gomez for you and rushed in blindly.”
The more Akula talked, the more confused Avery grew. “So he rescued Maria Gomez?”
“No. Though he made a valiant attempt at it.”
“So you and Viktor have him.”
“Viktor has him. I’m just the muscle his boss sent in to oversee things.”
It was hard to understand this woman. Whose side was she on? “So what? I turn myself in and you let him go. Is that the deal?”
Akula’s laughter was deep and warm, even over the phone. “Please tell me you’re not as much a fool as your man. If someone was to offer you that deal I hope you wouldn’t believe that they would hold up their end.”
Avery clenched the steering wheel in frustration. Her jaw hurt as she clenched her teeth in an attempt not to shout, “I don’t suppose I would.”
“Good. Your man seems to have some personal history with Viktor. Hawk should have told me this.”
Max was being tortured, and this woman wanted to talk about information sharing? Anger caused her body to tremble. She tried to placate the only person with the information she needed. “I don’t know if Hawk knew.”
“Perhaps. Either way, Viktor seems set on breaking your man personally. So he has him holed up in a warehouse outside of the city. Luckily for you, he is planning on taking his time.”
Luckily? Vivid images of Max tied up, beaten, and bloody filled her mind. Part of her training to become an undercover agent had been learning what might happen to you if you were ever uncovered. She knew what had happened to her at Mitchel’s compound was only child’s play compared to what might have happened. She’d seen pictures of torture and the thought of that happening to the man she loved enraged her.
“You’re telling me this… why?” The woman had to have some sort of angle other than gloating over Max’s predicament.
“Because I really am in town to do a job. That job is to clean up this mess. If that means I can kill Viktor, weaken and embarrass Andrey, and help Hawk all at the same time, even better.”
Did she dare trust this woman? More to the point, did she have a choice? She could call Max’s Brothers, but would they be in time? Probably not. It was going to be a leap of faith either way.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Good. You are as smart as I hoped. We shall meet and I will share with you my plan. If you follow my directions exactly, maybe, and I mean maybe, you and your white knight might come out of this alive.”
Roses are red skies are blue, out of my five fingers the middle one is for you.
* * *
The shock of cold water forced Max out of the dark grip of unconsciousness. His skull felt like sharp knives were attempting to Julienne his brain. The rest of his body throbbed with the deep ache of bruises that would take weeks to heal. What the hell had happened?
Max sorted through his memories, trying to parse through what had happened at Viktor’s house. Pain swirled, and he tried to focus. From what he could remember, he was pretty sure it was sheer luck he wasn’t dead. He opened his eyes and winced against the light.
The room he was in was a bare space that lacked furniture. High ceilings meant it was probably inside a warehouse. He sat forward and his shoulders strained. His hands were held in place by rope tying him to the thick metal chair. He moved his legs and felt the frustrating bite of rope holding him there as well.
Immobile and injured wasn’t the best condition to wake up in. Timur, one of Andrey’s soldiers, stood by the door like a guard dog. His presence meant that Andrey would soon be involved and if he wasn’t careful, his Brothers would pay for his reckless actions. The only other person in the room for the moment was Viktor. He loomed a few feet away, an all too familiar smile on his face.
“Good, you’re awake.” Viktor tossed aside the metal bucket he was holding with a laugh. “My old friend Grigory. Can you imagine how surprised I am to see you?” The sound of the man’s snide merriment brought back unpleasant memories of when Max would have to stand by and listen as the asshole beat and tortured helpless people for his amusement.
His time in Russia was some of the more common memories that still replayed, even now, in his nightmares. One might think that killing people would be what haunted him, but he didn’t regret his kills. He only regretted having to act as a silent witness and friend to this sadistic man. There was nothing he could ever do to make up for his sins.
Wallowing in the past wouldn’t help him now. He needed to figure out how to play this. Viktor had outwardly changed since Max had known him as a young man, but the core of him would be the same. The ego, need to be accepted, and the sadistic drive to harm others to make himself feel strong was at the core of his personality. If he was to have any hope of controlling the situation, Max would have to push Viktor’s buttons and see what triggers the man still held.
“Long time no see.” Max enjoyed Viktor’s annoyed scowl.
The man leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “Do you know I mourned for you?” He stood and spat to the side. “My friend and loyal men, killed by a car bomb set by my enemies. I got vengeance for you. The things I did to the men I thought responsible are still legend.”
“I was never your friend.” Max knew exactly what had happened after his fake death. He had spent months setting the whole thing up so that not only would it kill the strongest of Viktor’s soldiers, but start a war between the two families.
“Apparently not. What were you then? A spy?”
He was surprised Viktor guessed the truth so quickly. It was tempting to rub the smug man’s face in how thoroughly he had been fooled. Years had passed and the other spies he had worked with over in Russia were probably not still active, but Max couldn’t take that risk. Giving up his old identity for the sake of gloating would be childish. He needed to spin a tale that had a chance of being believed.
Max spoke in Russian, the old accent easy to remember. “No, I was a boy trying to make my way in a hard world. You were my meal ticket.” Max let all the disgust he felt show on his face. “No matter how hard I made my heart, eventually, even what you paid me wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stomach being around your sickness anymore. So I found my own freedom. Escaped right under your nose.”
Viktor strode up to him and hit him across the face with a back-handed blow that split his lip. The pain that lanced through Max’s cheek was much greater than the blow should have caused. The fight earlier must have fractured something in his head. The room spun, and his vision dimmed for a moment. A concussion meant he needed to be careful if he wanted to stay aware.
Viktor’s breath hissed over his ear as he spoke. “You taught me how to do many of those things that you claim made you sick. Showed me the best way to hurt people, make people fear me. Don’t sit there like some sanctimonious priest and pretend you’re better than me.”
Max coughed to clear his throat, bothered by the fact he hadn’t even tracked the man coming so close to him. He clenched his fists and tried to get his eyes to focus. “I may have taught you how to do the things your father wanted. But you were the one who enjoyed them. Not me.” It was a risk, pissing this man off, but every anger inducing word was necessary if he was going to get Viktor to believe the new story and not to go digging into the past.
If by some miracle Max survived this encounter, he needed to give himself the best chance of not having his secrets uncovered. If he had only taken the time to think earlier, he wouldn’t even be here. It was an amateur mistake letting his emotions take over his actions. He needed to remember his training, who and what he was. Those skills were the only way he was going to survive.
Much to Max’s disappointment, Viktor stood and seemed to rein in his temper. “So you left the family, came in the US, and joined a bunch of bikers.”
“Yes.”
Viktor threw back his head and laughed as if Max had said something hilarious. “I’m not a fool to believe your lies again. Akula is right now finding out who you really are. Mad Max.” Viktor flicked the name patch on his cut. “You will tell me where that bitch who keeps escaping me is.”
Hope flared in Max’s chest. Viktor hadn’t caught Cat. Hopefully she would contact his Brothers, they would keep her safe for him, even if he didn’t escape. Options raced through his mind. Whose side was Akula on? She had helped Cat the other day, but was there any way she would help him now?
He didn’t see her around, but she might be outside this room. Max prayed she wasn’t actually reporting to the Bratva about his miraculous return from the dead. It was a faint hope. Hawk had told him that while she might help if she could get away with it, her first loyalty was to her family.
Max glared at his captor. “I’m not going to tell you anything.”
“I think you will. I think you will break like a spineless coward. Then I will take joy in killing her and ruining the lives of anyone you care about while you are broken and helpless. Only then when you are begging me to die will I end your suffering.”
It would be foolish to believe that he couldn’t be broken. Given enough time and a skilled torturer, everyone would eventually say whatever was needed to make it stop. His only comfort was that he didn’t have the information Viktor wanted. By the time he broke she would be long gone, and his Brothers would have taken steps to protect both her and themselves.
“Nothing to say? That’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to make this too easy. I’m going to enjoy hurting you. Resist. It makes the begging later that much sweeter.” The punch to his stomach made bile rise up into his throat as the already bruised muscles absorbed the blow. “Where is the girl?”
Max laughed, choking back the urge to vomit. “You were always stupid. I obviously don’t know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have tried to free whoever that woman was at your house. She took off yesterday morning and I haven’t seen her since.”
Surviving interrogation without helping the enemy was like a game. He needed to mix truth with lies from the beginning. The more confusion he could create now, the more likely it was that Viktor wouldn’t be able to separate truth from fiction. The key was giving away things that didn’t matter and spinning believable stories.
Viktor pulled out a knife and smiled as he tested the point. “I had wondered about that. It was cruel of you to give Maria hope she might live.”
Maria? Akula’s data had said she was the one who had killed Cat’s partner. It made a sick sort of sense that he had mistaken her for Cat since t
he woman had been chosen for the job because of her surface resemblance to his woman. He had made the same mistake the cops had and assumed the two women were the same person.
“So Maria’s dead?”
“Of course, she had fulfilled her purpose. She wasn’t family, only a hireling. With Avery out and free I couldn’t take the chance that she could be used to prove her innocence.”
Max wanted to roll his eyes, but kept his face blank. Viktor always loved to brag about his own genius. He’d never once taken into consideration how that made him look. It didn’t make him seem important or smart, just petty and cruel.
“Funny to hear you using that word, family. Does that mean they are pretending to accept you now? I seem to remember things differently. You were only another one of their pets. How did you get your father to acknowledge you?”
Rage flared in his eyes, letting Max know the man was still considered a bastard. Viktor lashed out, this time punching Max in the chest. The crack of a rib unmistakable in the quiet room. Max took several shallow breaths, trying to not let out a groan of pain.
“I have you to thank for my rise in the family. If you hadn’t taught me such a good American accent, I would never have been able to infiltrate the FBI. Andrey hand-picked me for this job so it doesn’t matter what my weakling of a father says.”
Big words that were obviously lies. This man was still a boy under his tough exterior, trying to get his father’s approval. The knowledge that the stupid game he had used to distract Viktor had gone so wrong was infuriating. Teaching him accents was supposed to be a way to pick up women at the bar. Pretend to be American to lure in easy pussy and keep Viktor from playing more deadly games.
Max had never thought it would lead to this. He had created a spy to be turned against his own country. In a way, that meant he had been responsible for everything going on.
“Does that bother you? Knowing that something you taught me is going to secure my place within the family? Two more years and I’ll be able to shake off this identity and take my rightful place.”
