She squinted at him and gave him a sideways glance as though she was so bored with his game.
He chuckled. “I can see it clearly, as well. Just be careful. A woman as young and beautiful as you doesn’t need to get involved with the wrong type of man who might bring you down.”
She took a sip from her drink. “The wrong type of man, huh? Well, no problem there, Paulie. I don’t date.”
“I know you don’t, which I find so interesting. You don’t sleep around, either.”
She widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows at him.
“No offense. I have a keen eye for things. You’re not that type. You’re a good woman. It’s surprising you work here, but your position is important. Viktor and his partners need reliable, trustworthy people, and the managers he has here are top-notch.”
She thought about that a moment as she took another sip from her glass. Mirella was a bit of a bitch. She’d rubbed Nina the wrong way since day one, over six months ago. Mirella had been there the longest and had known the family the longest. Well, she’d slept with one of the men, who obviously had some pull to get her the job here. She acted as if that fact made her more important, but Nina knew better. There was something about her that got on Nina’s nerves, and finally she’d realized that it was the competitiveness Mirella wanted to be head manager.
At first, she’d thought Mirella looked familiar, but she wasn’t going to ask her where she’d grown up because Nina didn’t want the woman to know she’d grown up on the streets and in shelters. People looked down on the homeless, and she knew better than to let that secret out. She swallowed hard, thinking about what had happened to finally get her off the streets.
She glanced toward the side of the room, noticing Mirella watching her with daggers in her eyes. She would probably bitch that Nina was having a drink with a patron. She seemed to make it her mission to harass Nina and try to make her look bad. She wanted to be number one, but Nina didn’t care. Nina wasn’t worried about being number one. She was worried about securing income for a future. The last thing she needed was to get into a pissing contest that could cost her this job. She did what she was supposed to do, and that was it.
“I appreciate the compliment, Paulie. I should get back to work.”
He covered her hand and held her gaze. She felt a little uneasy. Like maybe he was hitting on her, and her original thought that Paulie was harmless was all wrong. “Good things will come your way. You just need to keep an open mind and be ready for them when they arrive.”
She didn’t know what the hell he was talking about but didn’t want to argue or ask and get drawn into another discussion. She smiled softly.
“Only good things, I hope. I’ve had my fill of the bad.”
She saw the change in Paulie’s expression and in his eyes. It was quick, but she noticed it, and it gave her an uneasy feeling. She shouldn’t have said that. No one knew of her past, of her tortured life before Viktor and Zinc found her at the Cuban-owned club where she worked. She was getting comfortable, letting her guard down, and that wasn’t smart, despite the desire to not have a care or worry. She had to remember that—always—and never forget the past, no matter how well she did financially or how secure her job seemed to be. There was always a chance for disaster, and at this point in her life, she didn’t know what she would do if she lost everything all over again.
* * * *
“Damn it. Get out of there, Jessup. Now!” Corona yelled into his wrist mic as the explosions erupted around them.
They were running for cover, shooting their weapons, trying to grab Brophy, the man they’d been sent in to rescue, out of the underground prison. They were running out of time, they were outnumbered, and each second that passed in the vicinity of this village in Fallujah meant a greater chance of not getting out alive.
“There!” Freeman yelled and pointed, then quickly shot his weapon, taking out two men trailing Jessup.
Corona saw his face, saw the blood from where he stood, and he knew it was bad. But the crazy Texan was still shooting and running toward them.
Corona shot at the enemy pulling up behind Jessup.
Atlanta pulled Brophy along with him to the waiting truck ahead, hidden behind the building in the dark.
“Go! Fucking go!” Jessup yelled to them.
“Not leaving you behind,” Corona yelled out, and simultaneously Jessup fell forward, taking a second bullet to the back of his shoulder. He landed on the ground, and Corona and Freeman shot at the other men, terrorists that had been holding Brophy as a prisoner to try and use him to create chemical bombs for terrorist attacks.
Corona lifted Jessup up off the ground.
“Leave me. Save yourselves.”
“Fuck that. We’re a team. I’d never leave you.” Corona grunted as he lifted the heavy Texan up and over his shoulder. Behind him, Freeman continued to fire at the last few guards. They got to the building and rounded the corner. Atlanta was there with a very battered and unconscious Brophy slumped in the backseat.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Atlanta said once they were in the truck.
The sound of a few more shots echoed around them. Corona and Freeman fired back, taking out one more guy. It was too fucking close. There weren’t supposed to be that many men guarding the place.
What the fuck went wrong? Corona wondered.
Freeman was applying pressure to Jessup’s wounds as Atlanta sped to safety.
“What are we doing, Commander? How fucking bad is he?” Atlanta asked from the front seat.
“Status, Freeman?” Corona yelled out.
“Change of plans. He’s got multiple gunshot wounds. I can’t tell how bad they are. His breathing is shallow, his vitals weak. I don’t fucking know, Commander,” Freeman said to Corona.
“Fuck,” Corona yelled out, then pulled out the satellite phone. He hit some buttons, and a deep voice came on after the first ring.
“Plan B. One of my men is down and needs immediate medical attention.”
He looked at Freeman, who appeared grim and angry. He knew they were going to be pissed off about this and blame him for taking on this assignment. They were all getting tired of this.
He received the coordinates and was promised that a chopper would be waiting to pick them up immediately.
Corona closed up the phone, putting it inside his jacket.
He gave Atlanta instructions, and Atlanta stepped on the gas and sped through the villages. Corona hoped no other enemy soldiers got in their way.
“Corona. It’s too dangerous. They’ll shoot us down. Stick to plan A,” Jessup said and then coughed. He looked like hell.
Corona shook his head. “I’m not leaving you. We’re a team, we’re brothers, and we always have one another’s backs. We’ll get through this.”
“Fuck, I think we got local company,” Atlanta said from the front of the truck.
Corona and Freeman looked back and saw the set of headlights and the lights above the military jeep. Men with black masks and turban-covered heads aimed their assault weapons as they sped up, getting closer to them.
“Freeman.”
“I’m on it.” He moved toward the back of the truck and pulled out the missile launcher. He broke the window, aligned the launcher, and looked through the scope.
He pulled the trigger. The smoke came into the truck, but then the sound of the explosion and the sight of the military truck flipping into the air signified that Freeman had hit his target.
“To think that we almost didn’t bring that thing,” Atlanta said, then took a quick right and sped through the desert and what they knew was miles and miles of nothing.
“Corona.”
Corona looked down at Jessup.
“If I don’t make it…”
Corona shook his head.
“You’ll make it. I promise you, you’re not dying in this fucking country. You’re not dying, period.”
“There.” Atlanta pointed at the small light in the sky in t
he distance.
Fear gripped Corona once again. If the enemy soldiers or some Al-Qaeda terrorists who were loyal to them were out there and they saw that chopper, they could shoot it down. The fear and intensity of the situation was palpable as Atlanta stopped the truck and they watched the chopper get closer and closer.
They gathered their shit, and Freeman lifted Jessup up over his shoulder to carry him as Atlanta did the same with Brophy. Once the chopper landed and the rest of his team were inside, Corona threw grenades into the truck to destroy the vehicle. As he jumped into the chopper last and they lifted off, the truck exploded, and they headed farther away from danger and closer to safety. He looked at his men and then at Jessup. This had to end. They were all getting tired of this shit. Jessup was seriously injured, and if his brother-in-arms died, Corona wouldn’t be able to live with himself. The last few years had brought more pain, more fears, and each of them closer to death. Jessup and Freeman had been captured and held prisoner in Cuba, and it had taken some serious illegal action for Corona and Atlanta to get them out of there. Viktor and his connections had assisted them. Maybe they needed to re-evaluate their plans. Maybe it was time to retire.
Chapter 2
“What do you want from me?” Nina asked Dominion. “I mean, I’ve told you how many times to not bother me again, that I don’t need you in my life. You don’t owe us anything. Our father didn’t even stick around long enough to change our diapers or give a shit. Where were you when I was living on the streets? When Zinc was losing his mind after leaving the military?”
Dominion Morales had supposedly been good friends with her father, yet, when Nina and Zinc’s mother died, he’d never come to find her or to help her out. He wouldn’t say why or what he was doing, but she had a feeling that maybe he’d been in jail or on the run. She’d never met him, but he sounded as if he was well-off and very sincere in his desire for her to come live with him. She refused. The last several times he’d spoken with her, he’d insisted that she get out of the club business and owing her life to the Russian mob. She felt insulted but also conflicted. Dominion was basically the last connection she and Zinc had to their mother and father. She longed to be part of something as deep and long-lasting as a family, a bloodline, but she was still an outsider in every way. Plus, Zinc wanted nothing to do with Dominion, and he didn’t believe anything he said. But that was Zinc. He didn’t trust anyone. He was always on edge and ready for a fight. He had been acting so funny lately, and Nina saw him less and less. When she asked him what he was up to, he told her that he loved her and that he was working. That was all she needed to know.
It was so crazy how they both kept a little distance, a wall around their hearts. Even as siblings, the only family they each had, they kept the wall, still. She longed for some sort of connection, a bond, something that made her feel human, real, cared for. She wasn’t even concerned with love. She’d given up on love, on full trust from any human being, years ago. She would be fine with stability and consistency. How sad was that? Yet here she was, continuously talking to a man she’d never met but who claimed to be a friend of her father, a man who died living life dangerously in the criminal world.
“Please, Nina. I want to be part of your life and have you be part of mine. Let’s get together soon and talk. You’re always welcome to visit me in Texas. I own numerous businesses and know a lot of people. Finding you a great job won’t be difficult at all. If you would come visit me, you would see that.”
She sighed.
It was tempting, to leave the city of Chicago and head to the country, to Texas. Would she even like it? She wasn’t exactly feeling like a part of “the family,” like many of the others who worked here felt. Viktor tried. He really did, but everyone was in an uproar over Karlicov being shot and his daughter Nalia was nowhere to be found. She’d evaded capture by the same group of men that had tried to kill Karlicov, and it had been weeks ago that she disappeared. They didn’t know if she was dead or alive, but Karlicov had everyone looking for her. Nina didn’t have that kind of bond and connection to anyone or anything. The Russians, as crazy and violent as they could get, were loyal and committed to those they trusted and loved. She couldn’t even imagine what that must feel like—not when she’d been all alone, and surely not when she was living on the streets trying to survive.
Nina shivered from the memories. It had been a bad time in her life, an embarrassing time she was ashamed of. No one here knew about her past. Viktor had paid for her college and given her this job, but he’d done it because of Zinc. As soldiers who served together, even their bond was strong. She wondered how that was even possible, and what types of dangers Viktor and Zinc had shared to secure that lifelong bond between them.
“I’ll think about it, Dominion. I can’t leave work now. There’s too much going on.”
“I know what’s going on, and I worry about your safety. Zinc is a trained soldier. You’re not.”
“But I’m street-smart, and that’s seemed to keep me out of trouble more times than I would like to remember. Don’t worry. I’m safe. I’m a club manager. Why would anyone want to hurt me?” She felt a bit of anxiety, as if she’d jinxed herself.
“The possibilities of something bad happening to you increase by the employment location and those you associate with. You could get caught up in something. I’ve heard some things, and I don’t think it’s safe working for that family. Zinc refuses to call me back. I’ve tried contacting him, too. It’s important that he calls me.”
“What things?” Now he had her attention.
“I just want you to be safe. I’m here for you. Remember that, always. No matter what, I am here, and you can come to me, no questions asked.”
“Thank you, Dominion.”
She felt thankful that at least Dominion was in her life and felt like family, even if she was creating that image out of need. That empty space would never be filled. No one was capable of filling it, yet she hoped pretending to actually have family might help, somehow. Her brother didn’t see Dominion as family. In fact, he didn’t seem too keen on having a relationship with Dominion at all. She figured that was just Zinc’s way. He barely trusted anyone and was a bit paranoid most of the time. A lot of the time, lately.
Nina looked up and saw Brutas enter the room, and he looked panicked. “I need to go.” She disconnected the call.
Brutas got to her quickly. She felt her gut clench, and she knew something was wrong.
“It’s Zinc, Nina. There was a shooting.”
“What happened? Where is he? Did he get hurt?” she asked.
“He’s dead, Nina. His body was found in his car. A bullet to his head,” Brutas said to her, grabbing her shoulders.
“No. No, you have to be mistaken. I just spoke with him thirty minutes ago,” Nina exclaimed.
Brutas Nolan, one of Viktor’s employees, stared down into her eyes. She had known him long enough to know he was serious. She wanted to throw up, scream, cry—something.
“He can’t be dead, Brutas. He can’t be.” The tears began to flow.
“I’m so sorry, Nina. So very sorry.”
Brutas hugged her, and she held on to him and cried. She’d feared something like this could happen one day. Now it was real, and she was left all alone. There was no one. No one left of her family. No one who truly cared like Zinc had. She thought of Dominion and felt sick. Why would she think of a man she had never met and wasn’t even blood? The validation that she was truly alone in this world kicked in, causing an instant pain to her stomach. What was she going to do now?
* * * *
Storm showed up in Chicago to try and decipher what the hell was going on. Karlicov had a daughter. She’d been abducted and then vanished. Cosivan and his team were trying to find her. There was some chatter of inside informants trying to sabotage the clubs, and Storm had men removing those problems.
He looked at Brutas Nolan. “What do you have so far?”
“I don’t have shit that’s con
crete, just talk on the streets.”
“What are they saying?” Storm asked him.
“I’ve heard that Zinc and Cobra were seen with some members of the Malfetto gang.”
“The Cubans? Were they doing something for the family?”
“Not that I know of. They do their business, and we do ours. Zinc and Cobra were in their territory.”
“Maybe whoever took them out thought they were up to something and didn’t realize who they were? Mistaken identity?” Storm asked, hoping it was that simple. But considering what was going on with Karlicov and his daughter, plus the attempts on other people’s lives in the family, it didn’t sit well with him. Something major was going on here.
“I don’t think so. It’s looking like Zinc was making a deal, maybe drugs or something, and that deal went sour.”
“This could have nothing to do with the family, then, but what about Cobra?”
“He was with Zinc. He had to be killed, too,” Brutas said to him.
“I don’t like it. Those two had been spending a lot of time together, and if Cobra was killed, too, then they were in it together.”
“Well, you’re not going to like the fact that a couple of the guys saw men following Nina. They were part of Ponopolous’s gang.’
“Polo’s gang? What the fuck?”
“Care to share any connections to that?” Brutas asked.
Storm looked at him.
“I don’t know what the connection is. I do know that when Viktor and Zinc found Nina, after looking for her all those years, she was working for one of Polo’s main guys at his club that Nicolai took over.”
“Maybe it’s revenge then? Perhaps they blame her and think she set them up to be taken over?”
“Then why wait this long to attack? No, there’s more to this. Zinc has always been on the up-and-up. Something isn’t right.” Storm rubbed his chin and thought about what to do next.
“Nina could be in danger,” Brutas said.
“I know. I’m going to call Viktor and the guys and give them an update. We’ll see what they want to do.”
The American Soldier Collection 14: Baby Love (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2
