by Renee Rose
Tommy’s lips drew back and he pressed his pistol in the center of Yuri’s forehead. “Back off, Russian. She’s just a piece of ass.”
He didn’t back down. It wasn’t the first time one of these assholes held a gun to his head. Threatening a life was a daily occurence with them. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t in real danger, either. He glowered. “Not. Sharing. Get your own whore.”
Tommy looked past him at Freddo. “Didn’t know he got so possessive about pussy, did you?”
Freddo shrugged, uninterested in the exchange. “He’s fucknuts crazy. Whadya expect?”
Yuri released Tommy and straightened his associate’s collar, like he was sorry he’d lost his cool.
It seemed like an ideal cue to go back to Lucy, so he did.
“What? You gonna bang her again now?” Tommy yelled.
“I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want with her,” he snarled back and slammed the adjoining door behind him.
He didn’t even have the balls to look at Lucy when he came in. Instead he just sank into the armchair and dropped his head into his hands.
Lucy said nothing, but her breath scraped in and out like she was scared. The silence stretched between them, thick and sticky. Whatever closeness he thought they’d shared had just shattered. Which was just as well.
***
It was an act. It’s all an act, Lucy chanted silently, trying to calm her frantic pulse.
If Yuri had meant any of what he’d just said, he’d be over at the bed, forcing himself on her.
And he wasn’t.
“First time I saw you, I lost my breath.” He sliced through the silence with a broken voice.
She waited but he didn’t go on. “Yeah?” she finally prompted, curiosity winning out over giving him the silent treatment.
“So fucking beautiful, so happy. I couldn’t understand it.”
“Understand what?”
“What made a girl so happy to play music in a nightclub? I thought it had to be drugs or alcohol. But no. I watched. You stayed sober. So you became puzzle for me to solve. How does beautiful girl keep her joy in this world of darkness?” He shrugged. “I didn’t know, but watching—” He lifted his blue-eyed gaze, piercing her with the intensity of it.
“I wanted to watch you every night. For the rest of my life. I knew, Lucya, I could never have you. I am darkness. Six years in Russian mafiya. Nine with...these assholes.” He spread his hands. “I don’t sleep at night, Lucya. You know why?”
She shook her head, throat closing as if a band tightened there.
“Because I know I’m a monster. The monster made by the streets of Kazan. I knew I could never have you. But it didn’t take away the wanting.”
Her nose burned, pressure swelled into her face. Crazy, intense Russian. Did he really feel so strongly for her? She shouldn’t like it, but she did.
“Watching you changed me. There’s someone who threw away all the rules. Became something unique, I thought. Something special. Me, I have to keep this role. I don’t even know who I’d be without it.”
“That’s not true.” Her words came out sounding hoarse. She didn’t know why she had to comfort him, but she did. “You can find a way out of this lifestyle. I believe you can.”
He stared at her like she’d offered a lifeline. “I only believe it when I’m with you.”
“Believe it. And let’s get the fuck out of here.” She couldn’t help but make her plea for his mercy. If he cared about her that much, he should prove it but letting her go.
He got up and stalked over to her and for one foolish moment, she thought he would cut her bonds. Instead he crawled up over her. “I will get you out of this. I promise.”
She wanted to believe him. She really did. But why should she trust him?
“You have a plan?” A girl can hope.
His lips closed into a tight line and he tilted his head to the side and back upright. “I have best plan I can think up in this moment. Not a good one. But you have my promise.”
His intensity scored her. She found herself nodding. Believing him. How could she not when he looked like he would burn himself alive if she asked him to?
Chapter Five
The sound of Lucy’s phone ringing jerked her out of a light sleep.
Ow. She tried to move, but pinpricks of pain shot through both her arms. Yuri had taped her wrists to the headboard above her. She probably wouldn’t have slept at all, except he’d sat beside her, stroking her hair and murmuring in Russian until he’d lulled her into a stupor.
“This is Yuri.” The Russian’s deep growl answered her phone. The volume on the television in the suite dropped.
“Who is it?” she asked, blinking in the semi-darkness.
Yuri stood in the doorway between the bedroom and the suite. He must have put her phone on speaker, because her brother’s thin, terrified voice croaked, “Where’s Lucy?”
“Jake?” she shouted.
“Lucy, oh God, I’m so sorry.”
“Here,” Yuri thrust the phone into Freddo’s hand. “I’ll shut her up.”
Even though rationally she knew Yuri would jump to deal with her before the others did, his words sent a dagger of ice through the center of her, freezing away the tenuous bond they’d developed.
He looked every bit the ferocious mobster as he stalked swiftly to her side and clapped a hand over her mouth. But then he slid an arm under her back and shifted her into a sitting position, taking the terrible pressure off her arms.
She whimpered at the sting of the blood rushing back into them and he absently helped her rub them, but they both strained to listen to the conversation in the other room.
“The boss isn’t gonna like that, Jakey-boy. We gave you a deadline to produce the cash. It’s tomorrow night.”
“I just need a little more time. I’ll have to take a loan out from the bank against the business. It might take a few days.” She’d never heard Jake so panicked. “Let Lucy go. She has nothing to do with this.”
“You see, that’s where we disagree. She has plenty to do with this, because it’s her life on the line, Jakey-boy. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll ask the boss if maybe he’ll give you that loan against the business instead. He’s been interested in getting into the nightclub scene for a while now.”
“O-okay. That would work,” Jake said in a voice that plainly said it wouldn’t.
This was what she’d feared. If he accepted that loan, he’d be owned by Don Diego for the rest of his life. Once you get involved with the mob, the only way you get out is with a pair of cement shoes for a swim in the ocean.
Fuck.
“Where are you, Jake?” Freddo demanded. “I’m gonna need you to bring yourself in.”
“If I come in, will you let Lucy go?”
“Yeah.”
She looked at Yuri, but he wouldn’t look back, his mouth set in a tight line. Right. They probably weren’t going to let her go. She tried to wrestle her head away from Yuri to yell at Jake not to come, but he immediately clapped a hand to the back of her head and held it like a vise.
Anger suddenly spiked. Whatever twisted game he’d been playing, pretending to keep her safe, was bullshit. He may have been interested in fucking her, but she couldn’t rely on him for anything. She’d be nuts if she thought she could.
She fought uselessly against his hold, tears of anger popping into her eyes when it became apparent how helpless she really was.
“No, you stay there. We’ll come and get you. And Jakey… if you’re not there when we come… your sister’s dead. Got it?” Freddo finished the call in the other room.
Yuri released her head and mouth, staring at the tears dripping down her cheeks with a haunted look.
“Get away from me,” she whispered.
He scrubbed a hand across his face and stood up. “I’ll get away from you,” he muttered, as if to himself. His strong shoulders were bunched up as he stalked out of the bedroom to the suite.
She immedi
ately wished he’d stayed. Somehow, being tied to a hotel bed was much worse alone. She yanked her hands, but they didn’t budge. Bending and twisting her head, she tried her teeth on the tape.
Another phone conversation ensued between Freddo and someone else—probably the don.
“I’ll stay with the girl,” she heard Yuri growl when Freddo got off.
“No, Tommy stays with the girl. You come with me. Boss says to bring him to the Blue Turtle.”
She strained her ears but heard no reply from Yuri. A low roar started in her ears, accompanied by a gripping and twisting in the center of her gut.
He wouldn’t leave her here alone with Tommy, would he? He’d promised to keep her safe.
She gnawed frantically at the duct tape around her wrists, but her teeth couldn’t seem to cut through it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The hallway door to the suite opened and shut.
Please, no. The roaring grew louder, blocking out all other sound.
Yuri left? No! The bastard.
She couldn’t figure out how to exhale.
She hadn’t realized just how much she had trusted the Russian until now. She’d believed he’d get her out of this. Believed he’d keep the other two men off her. But now he’d gone.
And a bad scene was about to get much, much worse.
***
Yuri’s soul receded. His chest was filled with stone as he walked down to the car with Freddo, leaving the only light in his life in a hotel room with Tommy.
Chances were good she’d be killed. Well, fifty-fifty really. But those weren’t odds he was willing to take. Not with his solnishko. And he didn’t trust Tommy not to rape her, either. Not after the shining example Yuri had given him. He knew what he’d done with Lucy had been consensual, but it sure as hell hadn’t looked that way.
Tommy probably couldn’t wait to get his cock into her.
“Was that your phone?” he asked, patting his pockets like he was looking for his.
“What?” Freddo said, car door open.
“I heard a text.”
Freddo patted his pocket but, as Yuri already knew, the capo’s phone wasn’t there because Yuri had slipped it out and dropped it on the floor before they left.
“Fuck,” Freddo swore.
“What?”
“I must’ve left it in the room.”
“I’ll go up.” He hoped he hadn’t offered too quickly.
Freddo hesitated. “Yeah, I guess we need it.”
“Be right back.” He jogged away before Freddo could decide to accompany him. Into the hotel, up to the third floor, using the staircase rather than the elevator. In the stairwell, he put the silencer on his gun and stowed it in his jacket pocket.
He had the clear-headedness of a stone cold killer as he entered the room. Emotion had receded, reflexes had quickened. His body had gone loose like it did before a fight. He entered through the bedroom, not the suite. Tommy stood over Lucy with his pants down, cock in his fist, a terrible leer smeared across his ugly face.
Three bullets and Tommy was dead, his shocked mug another face Yuri would have to see in his nightmares.
“Quiet. Stay quiet,” he hissed, although Lucy had already closed her mouth around her scream. He stowed the gun and stalked around the bed where Lucy hyperventilated, eyes wide as saucers.
He found her panties on the floor and yanked them up her legs, then pulled down her skirt. No way he was letting someone find her bare-beaver like that.
“What are you doing?”
“Just wait here,” he clipped. “You’ll be all right.”
“What? Don’t leave me! Please!”
He cursed, but stalked away. Even a few extra seconds could ruin this whole plan. “I have to, baby. But believe my promise. You will be safe,” he said from the door to the living room suite, steeling himself against her terrified face.
From his phone, he sent a text, then erased it. He grabbed Freddo’s phone, praying the bastard hadn’t decided to follow him up, and switched on the voice activated recorder as he jogged down.
Three years, and he hadn’t been able to nail Don Diego because he never received any direct orders himself. If he wanted to nail the don tonight, it would have to be on Freddo’s phone. He took the elevator this time, to give him a chance to slow his heart rate and school his features. Cracking his neck as he walked out, he made his face slack and bored.
Freddo pulled the car around with a screech of the tires. Yuri jumped into the passenger side. “Here you go.” He held the phone out.
“You ain’t worried Tommy’s gonna bang your girl?” Freddo demanded.
It took all his concentration not to fist his hands. “She’s not my girl, she’s just hot piece of ass I wanted to fuck. But no. I told Tommy I’d fucking stuff his balls up his ass if he did.”
Freddo chuckled, amused, as always, by the talk of casual violence. “She’s not your girl, but you’re not sharin’, ah?”
“That’s right.” He didn’t listen to the words, didn’t allow them to register, or he’d be sick. Better to be an empty hull, able to think clearly and act swiftly. Lucy would be safe. Now he just had to save her brother. If he managed to get evidence on the don before he was made, that would be golden, too. Leo was going to have Yuri’s ass as it was, it would be better if he could at least come out of this with something.
He sat back in his seat and drummed his fingers on the armrest. The morning sun had broken over the tops of the trees, streaking the light gray sky with beams of orange and pink.
Freddo drove to Parkhurst, a Los Angeles suburb, and pulled up at an address. They both got out of the car as a destroyed Jake tottered out of the door. His clothes were rumpled, as if he’d been wearing them for several days. His unshaven face sagged and deep hollows scored his eyes.
Yuri patted him down for a weapon and shoved him in the backseat of the Mercedes, getting in beside him.
Jake’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Where’s Lucy?” He lunged for the door on his side of the car. Yuri slammed his arm back against Jake’s throat, pinning him to the backseat.
“Not here,” he answered in his gruff accent.
Freddo took off.
“If any harm comes to her—”
“A little harm came to her,” Yuri answered honestly, still praying she might someday overlook the fact that he’d taken a belt to her ass. But why was he even hoping? Did he actually believe he had a chance with her when this was all through? The idea was scoffable.
Jake didn’t fight Yuri. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead and his breath came in jerky pants. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“She’ll be okay if you take care of your debts.” He kept to his usual act. Jake may be Lucy’s brother, but Yuri didn’t owe the guy anything, especially considering he was the asshole who’d put his sister in danger and then didn’t contact her for eight hours.
Freddo drove them to the Blue Turtle and they got out. The morning sun lit up the parking lot, now strewn with evidence of the previous night’s party; paper tickets, cigarette wrappers, and empty liquor bottles from the cheapskates drinking out of their cars instead of buying from the bar.
Jake blinked in confusion. “What are we doing here?”
“Boss wanted to meet here.” Yuri shoved him forward. “Unlock the doors.”
Jake fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking. He unlocked the padlocked chain on the gate to the patio, then the inner doors, deactivating an alarm system. “I’ll just get the lights,” Jake mumbled, heading toward the back of the club. The place was windowless, so the moment the door closed, they were plunged into near blackness, other than a few nightlights.
Yuri trailed at a distance. He wasn’t too worried about Jake going anywhere or trying anything with his sister’s life at stake, but desperate men sometimes did desperate things. He himself was a perfect example.
Jake flicked various lights on at the box in the back of the club, including the harsh, overhead fluorescents.
He didn’t look at Yuri as he trudged back to the main room.
The door swung open and Junior, Don Diego’s consiglieri and attorney, came in.
Damn. Yuri had hoped Don Diego would come himself. That Yuri might, for once, get something recorded from the boss. This whole assignment was going down in flames fast.
Junior set his briefcase on a table and snapped it open, pulling out a sheaf of papers. “I took care of selling your club for you.”
Yuri didn’t think it was possible for Jake to go even paler, but he did. Sweat trickled down his temple. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Just sign here.” Junior tapped the papers, which had sticky note arrows affixed to the signature lines.
Jake skimmed the papers. “I’m selling you the club for forty grand? The liquor license alone is worth that.”
Junior stared at him. “You need forty grand. I found you a buyer. Or do you want to tell the don you don’t have his money?”
“No, no.” Jake shook his head rapidly. “I’m not saying that. But this isn’t a fair deal. Why can’t I sign over a portion of the club for forty large?”
“Your choice.” Junior picked up the papers and chucked them in his briefcase.
“Wait—wait! Okay, I’ll sign, I’ll sign. But you gotta let my sister go first.”
“You don’t make demand,” Yuri growled. “Your sister will be free when the don has his money.” He cracked his knuckles for emphasis.
Jake fumbled with the pen and Junior slid the papers in front of him. Jake blinked hard at them, like he hoped the words would rearrange themselves into a better proposition. He swallowed a couple times. His hand shook so badly his signature probably looked nothing like it should, but Yuri had no doubt Junior had smoothed even more dubious transactions through the legal system. Jake signed his name at least a dozen times, until Junior took the sheaf of papers and stacked them with a satisfied rap.
Junior nodded at Freddo.
