by Roxie Rivera
"Lorenzo didn't hire that hit man. He didn't send a killer to my city. That was Julio's fault—and yours." He made sure that Romero wouldn't escape any blame in this situation. "You knew that Julio was cracking up after his kid was killed. You knew that Mando had slammed into that little boy and ripped him to pieces with his bike. You covered it up and helped him run so Julio did the only thing he could to get justice for his son."
Nikolai stretched out his legs and sighed. "Now Besian is in the hospital, and Lorenzo is watching his power base crumble." He shook his head. "And you and Hector aren't ready yet. The plan you told me about before I left for London isn't even close to completion. You need more time. If this is going to work, you must be patient."
Romero didn’t say anything. He clutched the wheel even tighter with his tattooed fingers and drove in silence. He waited so long to say anything that Nikolai doubted he would receive a reply at all. "My last stretch was ten long years of waiting. I can be patient for a few more months."
Nikolai figured that was the best he was going to get from Romero.
"It's strange, huh?" Romero asked a long while later as they barreled down a dusty road. "You and me? Working together?"
"Strange isn't quite strong enough." Nikolai frowned at the man seated next to him. "You did try to kill me once."
"And you tried to kill my daughter."
"That was an accident! You were going to take me out on a hit contract."
"I saved your life a few months ago. I let you marry my daughter."
"Let?" Nikolai guffawed. "The day Vivian needs you to let her do anything is the day pigs fly."
Romero cracked a smile at that. "She's strong. I wasn't sure when I went inside that last time what sort of woman she would become."
"She's perfect."
Romero cast a sidelong glance his way. "It's good that you think that. She needs someone who believes in her completely." He cleared his throat. "How was the show?"
"It was a success." Nikolai wasn't sure that did her justice. "The write-ups in the art media were very good. She sold every single piece and has quite a few commissions to tackle."
Romero hesitated. "And the baby?"
"Everything seems fine. She's due for another checkup next week."
"Good. That's…good."
They lapsed into silence as they continued their drive to the compound where Romero headquartered his outfit. The Calaveras motorcycle club had continued to grow while Romero had been on the inside. As vice president of the original chapter, Spider had beaten the recruitment drum hard and often. They had chapters across Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California and Louisiana now. A sizeable number of their nomad members were in Mexico living at the compound Romero had overtaken.
Since their inception, they had run protection and drugs for the cartel, but now that Romero was on the outside, they were branching out and funneling weapons into the country for Maksim. Nikolai managed not to show his shock at the size of Romero's operation. He had known that Vivian's father had been busy, but Jesus Christ!
Nikolai was glad to see a familiar face as he exited the truck. Artyom leaned against a silver Tahoe and sipped from a water bottle. Haggard and tense, he still flashed a smile as Nikolai drew near. They shook hands and whacked each other on the back.
"The tan looks good on you, boss."
Nikolai needed a good laugh so he let one escape. "Thanks."
"It's good to have you back, but I wish the circumstances were different."
"So do I."
"And Vivian? Is she well?"
Nikolai understood what Artyom was asking. He nodded. "She's wonderful."
Artyom smiled, relieved. "Good. I'm glad."
Sensing Romero's stare, he sighed. He wanted nothing more than to get into that Tahoe and race back to Houston, but this had to be handled first. "Let's this over with so we can get the hell out of here."
* * *
Nikolai rubbed his tired eyes. Nearly thirty-seven hours of traveling by plane and car had taken their toll. Only the knowledge that Vivian and the baby were under guard and waiting for him in Houston kept him going.
He glanced at Artyom who mashed gum between his teeth and concentrated on the dark stretch of highway in front of them. Two members of his street crew manned the SUV in front of them. Six of Romero's most trusted Calaveras MC brothers had ridden escort from south of the border.
"When we hit the city limits, we're going to lose the bikes." Nikolai stared at the reflection of the motorcycle headlights in the mirror. "They're too damned noisy and attract too much attention."
"Sure, but they're crazy fucking bastards who aren't afraid to fight." Artyom seemed to be warming toward the rough, leathered up bikers flanking the Tahoe. "If the shit with the cartel goes bad, I wouldn't mind having them on our side."
"There is no if, Artyom." Nikolai had been thinking long and hard about the cartel situation on the transatlantic flight. "Julio's stunt just revealed all of Lorenzo's weaknesses. Now we all know that he's lost control. He's weak and vulnerable."
"Who will strike first?"
"Not us," Nikolai replied firmly. "The first one through the door gets it in the neck. We'll let someone else have that honor."
Artyom didn't ask who that someone else might be. He was probably assuming it would be Romero, but Nikolai had his money on Hector Salas and the tight band of enforcers and street soldiers he had been quietly gathering to support him. Lorenzo tucking tail and running back to Mexico with egg on his face had given Hector and his little army one hell of an opening. Would they use it wisely? Only time would tell.
When they reached the city, the bikers blew by them and disappeared from the highway. Nikolai and his men drove to an arranged meeting spot where Kostya waited with the man everyone called Devil. Besian's scar-faced street captain nodded in respect and slid into the backseat of the Tahoe along with Kostya. Soon, they were on their way to the Houston hospital where Besian remained in the ICU.
"How bad is it?" Nikolai twisted in his seat to see Kostya and the Albanian giant who rivaled Ten and Sergei in size and ferocity.
"He's a lucky fucking bastard." Kostya shook his head in awe. "The bullet missed his heart by this much." He held up two fingers separated by only a few millimeters of space. "One of his lungs collapsed, but he's a fighter. The surgeons told Ben that he'll be moved to a step-down unit this afternoon if he continues to improve."
"That's good." He and Besian hadn't always seen to eye-to-eye, but they had developed a friendship during their many years working in the same underworld space. He would never be as close to Besian as he was to Ivan or Yuri or Dimitri, but he didn't want to see the Albanian loan shark and boss killed.
"What happened to Zec?" Devil asked. "I thought he was coming with you."
Nikolai shook his head. "He decided to stay in Mexico."
Devil swore in Albanian and nervously tapped his hand on his knee. "I should get down there. He's going to need someone to rein his ass back in when he goes to far."
When, Nikolai noticed, not if. Devil obviously knew Zec's penchant for mayhem. "You're going to be needed here."
The side of Devil's badly scarred face twisted with a scowl. "You're not my boss."
"No, I'm not. Your boss is fighting for his life in a hospital bed downtown. If someone wants to get to him, they'll try right now. You and Ben and the other miks should be there at the hospital or out on the street holding your territory. You think Nicky Jackson is just going to sit around with his thumb up his ass while Besian recovers? No. He's going to make a play for that territory the skinheads are holding—and then he's going to try to cut into yours."
Devil glared out the window but gave a stern nod. Nikolai let the issue drop. He could give advice, but he couldn't make Besian's men take it. If they wanted to go running south to pick fights with the cartel, he couldn’t stop them. But if they tried to bring any of that bullshit back into the city, he would make them hurt.
This early in the morning, t
he hospital parking garages were nearly empty. They would have to wait another hour or so before visitation hours opened. Nikolai couldn't stand the idea of waiting in the Tahoe. "I need to get out and walk. I need coffee."
Artyom checked his watch. "There's a Starbucks on the first floor. It's open now."
Nikolai wasn't a fan, but Vivian absolutely adored their iced coffees and teas. Thinking of her, he decided it was safe to call her. He didn't like the idea of waking her up, but she would want to hear from him.
As their small group made their way into the hospital, Nikolai slowed his pace so he would have some privacy to make his call. The phone rang four times before she answered in a sleepy voice. "Hello?"
"Vee."
"Kolya! Are you okay? Where are you? When are you coming home?"
"Vee," he said with a laugh. "Calm down. I'm fine. I'm in Houston at the hospital. I'll be home as soon as I've seen Besian."
She sighed softly. "I miss you."
"I've missed you so much." He didn't care if the others overheard him sharing a tender moment with his wife. "I love you."
"I love you. Come home soon."
"I will."
He ended the call and tucked away his phone. The Starbucks was as busy as he had expected, even this early in the morning. The crush of physicians, nurses and medical technicians about to start their shifts made it impossible to reach the counter at first. Only his dire need for caffeine kept him in the long, bustling queue.
Hot coffee in hand and flanked by his men and Devil, Nikolai headed toward the elevators. It was the same story there. Too many bodies and not enough space. He sipped his coffee and scanned the faces in the crowd for any signs of malice. It would be so easy for someone who wanted to hurt Besian to infiltrate the hospital. No one paid much attention to anyone wearing scrubs. With the properly faked credentials, a person could gain access to any area in the hospital, even the ICU.
Upstairs in the ICU waiting area, they found Ben Beciraj slumped in a chair. He awakened immediately at the sound of footsteps and sprang from his chair. Nikolai put a calming hand on the street captain's shoulder. "Hey. Easy."
"Sorry." Ben blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been a long couple of days."
"I know." Nikolai clapped him on the back. "How is he?"
Ben gestured to an empty chair and Nikolai sat. "He's doing well. It's a good thing he's so damned stubborn. Anyone else would have died after a sniper's bullet blew a hole through their chest."
Nikolai couldn't argue with that. "Will he get out of here soon?"
"Today," Ben said. "They'll move him to a step-down unit for a day or two and then down to a regular room. He's got a long road of recovery ahead of him." The young mik lowered his voice and dipped his head. "Besian wants to speak with you as soon as possible. He told me to tell you that we stand with you."
"I've never doubted that." Nikolai clapped Ben's back again. "If you don't mind, I'll go in to see him first. You should go get some breakfast or go home and rest. Devil is here. I'm sure he would be happy to sit with Besian."
Ben's reluctance to leave his adopted uncle was clear, but eventually he yielded. "Yeah. Okay."
Nikolai rose from the uncomfortable waiting room chair and made his way to the room number Ben had given him. There were two nurses and a pair of doctors in the room so he waited in the hallway until they were done. He entered quietly and closed the door. Noisy machines beeped. There were wires and tubes everywhere.
Propped up in the bed, Besian looked fucking miserable. He had a sheet covering his legs. His hospital gown was open and had fallen to his waist to reveal a long strip of blood-stained gauze covering a gnarly incision straight down his sternum where his chest had been cracked. Eyes closed, he seemed to be making every effort not to move or breathe too deeply.
"It's not contagious," Besian croaked in a low voice. "You can come closer."
Nikolai's mouth slanted with amusement. He moved to the chair at the bedside and sat on the edge of the seat. "I won't ask how you're feeling."
"High as a fucking kite," Besian said with a smile. He lifted the small controller that gave him a quick dose of morphine when he needed it. "I need one of these for the house."
"I'm sure Kostya can find one that's fallen off the back of a truck." He reached into his pocket and withdrew the handful of jaw breakers he had picked up at a convenience store in Harlingen. He placed them on the rolling table next to Besian's bed.
Besian smiled but warned, "Don't be funny, Kolya. Only a bastard would try to make me laugh right now." Then, with a great deal of effort, Besian raised a finger to his mouth. He barely had the strength to touch his lips but Nikolai got the message. Besian feared the room was bugged.
Nikolai glanced around the room, his gaze landing on the various pieces of equipment and furniture where a bug might be placed. He decided all the questions he had for Besian would have to wait. The Albanian looked dreadfully tired and pale, much too exhausted to talk anyway.
He placed his hand on Besian's arm. The other man's eyes flashed open and locked onto his face. "Get some rest. I'll look after your house for you."
Besian understood what Nikolai was saying and nodded slowly. "Don't let my dogs off their leashes. They're too young and not very well trained."
Nikolai thought of Ben and Devil. They were hot-headed pricks. "I'll keep an eye on them." He stood up and backed away from the bed. "Get some sleep."
Besian waved the fingers on his left hand before closing his eyes.
Out in the waiting room, Nikolai spotted a young woman sitting alone. There was something familiar about the auburn-hued ponytail. She had a shell-shocked look about her and anxiously chewed her thumb. When she caught him staring at her, she nervously dropped her hand and tugged at the sleeves of her oversized plaid shirt. She wasn't fast enough. He still managed to see the dark bruises on her wrists.
His tired brain finally put together the pieces. A memory of Spider with a younger version of this woman at a steakhouse that Nikolai frequented moved to the forefront of his mind. This was Marley. This was the young woman that Besian had nearly given his life to save.
An idea began to take shape in the back of his mind. He remembered the way Besian had lamented there were no other women like Vivian out there. The Albanian boss couldn't have been more wrong. Marley had a sweet, gentle air about her, and those big, blue eyes and reddish-brown hair set her apart in a sea of brunettes and blondes.
Devil stood up to take Nikolai's place at Besian's bedside, but he held up a hand to stop him. He crossed the waiting room to stand in front of her. "You're Marley."
She swallowed and glanced around the room. "Yes."
"Do you know who I am?"
"Of course." A hint of a smile brightened her face. "Everyone knows who you are."
"Are you here to see Besian?"
"Yes." Her answer came quietly. "I just—I wanted to say thank you. He doesn't even know me, but he saved me."
Nikolai had his suspicions as to why Besian had run into the line of fire for this woman, but he kept them to himself. "You can go in and see him. If the staff asks, tell them you're his little sister."
"His sister?" she repeated skeptically.
"A little white lie here and there?" He shrugged. "If you don't want to see him—"
"I do." She was on her feet in an instant.
Nikolai stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I'm sure I don’t need to tell you this, but be careful about what you say in that room and to anyone else."
Marley nodded gravely. "I understand."
He was certain that she did. A girl didn't grow up around an outlaw motorcycle club like the Calaveras without picking up some useful underworld survival skills.
Nikolai watched her disappear around the corner and into the ICU ward before joining Devil. "Make sure that she gets home safely. I'm sure Spider has a tail on her, but add one of your own. Your boss took one to the chest to protect her. Let's try to make sure she's
still alive for him to chase when he gets out of here."
The smile that contorted Devil's badly scarred face seemed more sinister than amused. "I'll keep an eye on her."
Satisfied that he had done his duty to Besian, Nikolai left the hospital with Artyom and Kostya. His legs grew heavier with every step. By the time he reached the Tahoe, he felt as if he were dragging around cinderblocks. He sagged against the seat and mustered what was left of his energy so he could finish what needed to be finished before going home to Vivian. "Tell me about the shooting."
Kostya leaned forward from the rear seat. "There's not much to tell. We went to the meeting to exchange the tape Abby Kirkwood had in her hands for Lorenzo Guzman's promise that he would extend his protection to her and her brother. Julio crashed the meeting by driving a van right into the middle of it. A standoff happened. He held Marley like a shield, kept a gun to her head, and went batshit fucking crazy. Romero taunted him. Lorenzo begged him to stop. Besian was the only one who tried to negotiate with him."
Nikolai imagined the chaotic scene. "And then what happened?"
"I saw Julio's head explode." Kostya tapped his temple. "Blood and bone and brain went fucking everywhere. The girl screamed before I even heard the shot's report. She was blindfolded and tied up. She couldn't move or see. The bullets started flying. I went for cover. There was glass blowing all over the place. I couldn’t find the shooter. The echo was so bad down there."
"Besian?"
"The girl fell, and he ran out after her. It was brave but stupid. He scooped her up and ran, but the sniper was fast. Besian got hit, and he threw the girl at Jack Connolly. Jack was a Marine. He didn't panic like the others. The second those bullets started snapping, he picked up his woman and tossed her behind the closest engine block. When Besian threw Marley at him, he caught her and stowed her away with Abby. I couldn't believe my fucking eyes when Jack saved Besian."
"Jack Connolly?" Nikolai blinked. "Jack saved the man who nearly got his little brother killed in those fights? The man who threatened to take away his gym because of their father's bad debt?"
"Those Connolly guys are a different breed. It's that Marine training. It changes a man. I've never met one who went bad after leaving the military. That honor and loyalty gets into their bones." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small plastic bag that he handed forward. "Speaking of the Connollys…"