by Harley Wylde
“All right. We paid good money. Get to it,” one of them said. “Let that pompous ass inside.”
The man guarding the gate shrugged and opened it far enough for Voronin to step through, then he patted him down, removing two guns. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had another weapon hidden somewhere, but I didn’t plan to let him get the upper hand, and I had no doubt the men treating this like some big joke would stop him if he did try to hurt me. If for no other reason, then I was with Sarge. Whatever that meant.
“Your husband is going to go batshit crazy when he hears about this,” Torch said.
Now that made me stop. I didn’t dare turn my back on Voronin, but Torch definitely had my attention. “What husband?”
“Sarge. Flicker here decided to interfere and asked our resident hackers to handle it. Congratulations. You’re officially part of the club because you’re Sarge’s whether you like it or not. Anyone who looks will find a very legit marriage license on file. Just don’t tell Sarge yet. I plan to bust his balls a little.” Torch came closer. “But by all means. Teach this fucker a lesson if you need to. We’ve got your back.”
I heard more than one gun cock and glanced at the bikers long enough to see every last one had a weapon trained on Voronin. It was the first time I could remember that anyone had stood beside me. My eyes misted with tears for a moment. How fucked up was my life that the badass bikers at my back could make me cry because I was touched by their acceptance?
I stared down the man I’d call Father for so long. He sneered and lunged for me, but I swung the pipe, hitting his bicep with a loud thwack. Voronin howled and came for me again. I got in three more blows before he showed his true colors and yanked a knife from behind him. I had no idea where he’d hidden it, but it wasn’t going to make me back down. I smiled, thinking of the old movie about the Australia guy visiting New York City. “That’s not a knife,” I muttered.
I heard someone snicker behind me. Voronin came at me again, and I gripped the pipe with both hands, slamming it against his wrist as he tried to jab me with the small blade. He dropped to his knees, and it was like the fury I’d contained the last six years bubbled up. Before I could second-guess myself, I brought the pipe down on his head. Not once. Not twice. Three times. Blood pooled under him, and as I stood panting, I realized I was shaking. I let the pipe go, and it clattered to the pavement at my feet.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” I’d killed him. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t making any noise at all, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. My knees gave out, but a strong arm around my waist, held me upright.
“Remind me not to piss her off,” someone said.
I laughed and cried at the same time. I wiped at the moisture on my cheeks and one of the guys winked at me. I figured he must have said it. Looking up, I realized Flicker had me.
“Come on. I think I need to get you back home. Sarge is going to lose his shit when he hears about this.” He led me over to the car and put me in the passenger seat. When he got in on the other side, he moved the seat all the way back and still looked uncomfortable. “If Sarge doesn’t make you get rid of this car, I may accidentally set it on fire one night.”
“What’s wrong with my car?” I asked.
He looked at me with an are you kidding me expression. “It’s a BMW. At a biker compound. What the fuck, Katya?”
He did have a point. “Fine. Someone can sell it or strip it for parts. However you get rid of cars you don’t want. I only ask that at least part of the money goes to getting me a car I can drive safely with Theo in the back seat.”
Flicker pulled away from the gate and just shook his head.
“Now what?” I asked.
“You really think you’ll only need room for Theo? The walls around here aren’t exactly soundproof. Stepped outside to sneak a cigarette last night and from what I heard, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you’re knocked-up already.”
I placed a hand against my belly. We hadn’t used protection, and it honestly never crossed my mind. Damn. We hadn’t even had the talk about previous partners. While I didn’t have any, I knew Sarge hadn’t been a monk. Did I need to go get tested? How could I have not even thought of that before now? So stupid! Then again, that hardly seemed pressing since I’d just murdered a man.
My heart slammed against my breastbone and I felt like I might pass out. What had I done? No one loved Boris Voronin, but the Bratva would never allow his death to go unpunished. They’d come for me. Make an example of me. I whimpered and curled against the door, resting my forehead against the window. I was so screwed. There was no way Viktor Petrov or Vadim Ivanov would let this one slide. My father’s friends would demand justice be served. Or rather the man I’d thought was my father.
Wait. My father. Would Konstantin help me? Did he even know I existed? Or rather, did he know that I was his daughter? Girls were always a blessing to the Bratva men because we were bargaining chips. I couldn’t imagine Konstantin not trying to take me after my mother died if he’d known. Then again, maybe I just hoped that he hadn’t known because it meant that I hadn’t been unwanted, only undiscovered.
“I need to make a call,” I said.
“Sarge doesn’t have a landline. You have a cell phone?” Flicker asked as he came to a stop in the driveway.
“Yes. I need to call Russia.”
Flicker slowly turned to face me. “You need to do what now?”
“Call Russia. I need to speak with Konstantin Bykov. Assuming he’ll even accept my call. If anyone can help me right now, it’s him.”
Flicker held up a hand. “Look, all kidding aside, you know we’ve got your back, right? That dick is going to disappear. No one will ever know what happened to him.”
“That’s sweet, but you don’t understand. He’ll have told people where he was going, possibly even brought some men with him. My guess is they’re nearby. Close enough for him to call for backup, but far enough to give him privacy in case I embarrassed him.”
“Not sure if I should be offended you think we can’t handle those Bratva bastards, or admire the fact you want to resolve the issue yourself.”
I opened the car door. “Go with option two.”
Without waiting to hear anything else from him, I got out and went inside. Sarge wasn’t back, but I had a feeling someone would find him and tell him everything. I didn’t know if he’d be pissed, scared, or find it funny that itty bitty me bludgeoned a man to death. Only he would find humor in it, but he’d seemed amused over the way I handled the guy at the gate last night.
I grabbed my phone, made sure it had a decent charge, then took a breath to steady my nerves. I’d never called Konstantin Bykov before and didn’t even know where to start. Except maybe Viktor Petrov. He’d want to know why I needed to speak with Bykov, but I’d come up with something. Even if it was at least the partial truth. I only had Viktor’s number because I’d overheard my father say it once and I’d memorized it in case I ever needed to speak with him directly.
The phone rang a few times before the brigadier answered. “Petrov.”
“Mr. Petrov, this is Katya…Voronin.” I hoped the hesitation didn’t cost me, but was I really a Voronin? I didn’t share that man’s blood. A call to Viktor Petrov wasn’t something to take lightly. I’d heard tales about him all my life, and knew him to be a ruthless killer. I only hoped that maybe I’d catch him in a good mood and be able to get the information I needed.
“Miss Voronin, how may I help you?” he asked.
“I need to speak with Konstantin Bykov, but I’m uncertain how to reach him.”
He made a noise that was almost a growl. “I’m not a directory, Miss Voronin. Ask your father for the number.”
“Wait! Please don’t hang up. It’s important, Mr. Petrov, and I can’t ask my father. The situation is a bit delicate.”
“I’m listening.”
“I recently learned my mother spent some time with Mr. Bykov. I need to speak with him about her, but I’m afrai
d it would anger my father if I mentioned it. Please, can you help me?”
He sighed. “Very well. I’ll text his number to your phone. And, Miss Voronin, if I discover you’ve lied to me, I will be extremely upset.” I heard a soft murmur in the background, but I couldn’t hear his response. There was a scrape as if he’d covered the phone with something. “My wife informs me I’m being too harsh. If that’s so, then I apologize. Just don’t make me regret giving you that number.”
“Thank you, Mr. Petrov.”
He hung up before I could say anything else and I stared at my phone, waiting for the incoming text. When my phone beeped, I opened the message. My fingers were shaking as I pressed the number, bringing it up on the screen, then pushed “call” and waited as it rang.
It went to voicemail, and while I started to hang up, I decided to leave a brief message, explaining who I was and that I really needed to speak to him about something. I gave my number and then hung up. I hoped I hadn’t just made a huge mistake, but I hadn’t known what else to do.
The front door slammed into the wall and I turned to find Sarge barreling toward me. He didn’t even slow down as he grabbed me, wrapping me tight in his arms until I feared I’d suffocate. I patted his back and squeaked.
“Can’t. Breathe.”
He set me down, but didn’t release me. “What the fuck, kitten? I know you’re all tough and shit, but what were you thinking?”
“Well, Torch practically dared me to go talk to Voronin, so…”
He held up a hand. “Wait. The Pres dared you to go talk to that man? And why are you calling him by his last name?”
“I guess they didn’t tell you everything, then. It seems he’s not really my father. He gave his wife out to other Bratva members whenever it would benefit him. I believe my birth father is Konstantin Bykov. He’s the sovietnik and usually remains in Russia, but he does travel to the US on occasion.”
“I have no idea what that title means, and I honestly don’t give a shit right now. Are you okay? I saw Flicker outside. He was standing guard in the driveway, and seemed worried. He said you were shaken up by what happened. Although, the words badass and terrifying were also used.” He smiled. “It seems you’ve made an impression.”
I melted against him, letting him hold me. I hoped that my actions didn’t blow back on the club. If anyone here got hurt because of me, I’d never forgive myself. Bringing Theo here hadn’t turned out the way I’d hoped, but I was so grateful I’d met Sarge. Being with him was amazing, but I’d let my temper get the best of me, and now I’d possibly ruined what we had, and put everyone in danger.
Why did I keep fucking things up?
Chapter Six
Sarge
I’d found Tempest leaning over a dead body between the gate and the clubhouse, and I’d stopped to see what the fuck was going on. Hearing my woman had been the one to kill the man had been staggering. I’d known she was a fierce little thing, but I hadn’t realized she was capable of taking a life. Considering the man had come to take her away, and then pulled a knife on her, she’d only been defending herself. I was proud that she’d taken the guy out on her own, but I’d worried about her mental state. Even a battle-hardened soldier struggled with killing the enemy. I could only imagine how my little kitten felt about taking out her own father.
The way she’d clung to me, and the confusing explanation of her father not really being her father, had left me reeling a bit. I’d expected to find her hysterical or at least crying. She’d been shaken, for certain, but was handling it far better than I’d have expected. It just proved how strong she was. Of course, that didn’t mean I appreciated Torch throwing out a challenge and getting her to the gate. Which was why I was currently standing across from him at his home office.
I’d been thinking about what I wanted to say, and how to say it. Seeing the smug look on his face threw all those plans right out the window. In that moment, I didn’t give a shit that he was the club Pres. I only cared that he’d put my woman at possible risk, and for what?
“Why the hell would you challenge her to go to the damn gate, knowing her father was there?” I asked.
Torch raised both eyebrows and his posture went from relaxed to stiff in a heartbeat. He pressed his hands to the desk and rose to his feet, staring me down.
“First off, mind your tongue when you speak to me. I may be getting old, but I’m not dead yet, and I still run this fucking club. If I wanted to throw her ass out, I could and would. Flicker spoke on your behalf to claim her, but you haven’t asked in Church and I don’t recall making anything official,” he said. “She’s not wearing a property cut and hasn’t been inked.”
“Well, seeing as how Wire and Lavender married us, either she stays or I go.”
He thumped back down into his chair and sighed. “So I heard. I didn’t give them permission for that shit either, but I can understand why they did it. They told me after the fact. It was amusing to see the look on Katya’s face when she found out, but not so much when I discovered what they’d done. Some days I swear it’s like the President patch on my cut is just a decoration. Did you know your wife suggested I leave the club to my daughter?”
No, she hadn’t told me that, but it didn’t surprise me. A woman like Katya could probably handle that sort of job. Not sure the Pres’s little girl was up to it, though, not even when she was old enough. She was a hellion at times, but she tended to react before thinking things through. Of course, I didn’t believe Katya had meant to kill Voronin so maybe she was just as hot-blooded.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper. At my age, I never thought I’d meet a woman I wanted to keep. Then I saw her stand up to the Prospect and land a punch to his ribs. Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” I grinned. “Knew then she was a keeper.”
“She’s a scrappy little thing for sure. She’s worried about the Bratva, isn’t she?”
I nodded. She’d said something about calling Bykov, but I still didn’t understand what she hoped to accomplish. What if the man didn’t want a daughter? Or what if he only wanted to use her the way Voronin had? Something told me she was borrowing trouble by reaching out, but I hoped she proved me wrong. Until then, I knew Torch would have had someone handle Voronin’s body and car.
“Found a tracker on her BMW,” Torch said. “She told Flicker to take the car to a chop shop and use the money to buy her something sensible.”
I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut. Yeah, I gave Flicker shit all the time since he was married to my daughter, but he was still an officer of the club. And Katya had told him what to do? Wonder how that had gone over. Then again, he seemed just as amused by her as I was, so he probably hadn’t thought much of it. She had a lot of fire in her just like my Pepper did, so Flicker was probably used to it by now.
Torch tossed me a set of keys. “There’s a silver Ford Explorer parked at the clubhouse. It’s her new car, registered under the name Kat Reid. I also told Wire to go ahead and work on getting her documentation under that name. It won’t erase Katya Voronin completely, but it’s a step in removing her connection with the Bratva.”
I stared at the keys in my hand. “What if she doesn’t want to sever the connection? She just found out Voronin wasn’t her father. The guy she thinks is her sperm donor is apparently higher up the ranks. She may want the chance to get to know him, if he isn’t a first-class dick.”
“Then we give her that chance… and invite the bastard here, where we can keep an eye on him. We already set up those guest apartments. We just make sure he’s our only visitor during that time and put one of the Prospects next door to keep an eye on him. Those walls are a bit thin for a reason.” Torch smiled. “I’m sure he’s too smart to let us bug the place, but that doesn’t mean the walls don’t have ears.”
“I’m keeping her,” I said. “If I have to go into Church and make the request, fine, but either way, she’s staying.”
“Do you really think we wouldn’t let you claim her?” he asked.
“It’s been a long-ass time since you were ever serious about someone. Since before this club if I remember right. The fact you took one look and knew that girl was yours is all the proof I need that she belongs here. Besides, I rather enjoyed watching her beat that piece of shit to death.”
“You’re a little fucked-up. You know that, right?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Didn’t get to be at the top by being a pussy. I know things have calmed down a lot around here, especially with so many of us raising families, but we’ll never completely walk the straight and narrow. I’ve pulled us back off a lot of bad shit over the last decade, but the fact remains we make a fuck ton off pot and guns, especially after Flicker put in that medicinal marijuana field and procured a license for it a year ago.”
“I just don’t want the ugliness in life to touch her. I know it’s too late, that it’s already had its hands on her, but is it wrong that I want to protect her?”
“Not wrong. Maybe not practical since she seems quite capable of taking care of herself, but it’s certainly not wrong. If you’d fallen for a fellow soldier, would you have expected her to let you coddle her?”
“No,” I said without hesitation.
“Then don’t expect that of your wife. She may not have served our country, but she grew up in an environment that prepared her for a war of sorts. She’s cunning and capable. You should be proud of her.”
I sat in the chair across from him. “I am proud of her. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared shitless when I discovered the dead body was courtesy of my wife. Mostly, I was worried what state I’d find her in. But if that asshole really did have others lurking nearby, they may have seen her kill him. What then?”
“Then we handle it. When they get here -- and the Bratva will come to our gates -- I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure I have Grimm with me.” Torch leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking. “For now, go spend time with your woman. I’ll call Church when I have more information on Voronin. You make your official request at that time, but that being said, I’m pretty sure Venom already ordered a property cut for your girl. You may get it before Church convenes.”