by Sweet, Izzy
She’s definitely not a morning person, I think as I watch her grumpily walk back to the bed and practically thrown herself down on top of it.
“What?” I ask as I push the phone up to my ear.
My eyes stare down at Meghan’s panty-covered ass. It looks so juicy and delicious, I’m half tempted to bite it. Bite it and leave a bruise.
Mark this chick as mine.
“Russians took out a bank we own. I need you down on the scene. We need to figure out what the fuck happened,” Simon snaps in my ear.
“When?” I ask as I contemplate whether or not Meghan will kick me if I slap that ass.
I want to do so many fun things to it. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d fuck it if she ever tries to run again. Fuck, I want to fuck it regardless of her trying to run.
“At five-seventeen this morning. Killed an onsite guard we had in the building,” he mutters over the sound of keys tapping on a keyboard.
“Is that the only casualty?” I ask.
“Yes. Are you fucking leaving yet?” he snaps at me.
“Soon, I need to get some gear. Who’s my onsite contact?” I ask as I turn away from Meghan.
She grumbles loudly, her head buried under a pillow.
“Detective Sommers will be leading the investigation. Unfortunately, someone called in the bombing before we could call in our version of what happened,” he says.
“Fuck, so the news outlets will be trying to climb over each other to get the story?” I grumble.
“Yes, so leave your wife at home. We don’t need her face plastered all over the news. I’ve called what contacts I have in the media and I’m trying to get this downplayed as much as possible. But it’s the fucking media.”
“Fuck, I’m not exactly fond of the idea of leaving her here alone,” I say as I walk over to the dresser.
I grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of it.
Meghan moves and I’m pretty sure she’s listening in.
“I don’t give a shit, get the fuck over there. I’ll text you the location now,” Simon snaps before he disconnects the phone.
“Fucking douchebag,” I growl as I slap the phone down on the dresser.
“What’s going on?” Meghan asks, fully awake now.
“Someone bombed a bank we own,” I growl as I yank the t-shirt over my head.
I’m not fucking happy with Simon right now, not when he tells me to leave Meghan home alone. But I can’t fucking argue the logic. While she needs to be attached to my hip, this isn’t the time for her face to be shown. Too many unknown variables.
Sitting up straight, her eyebrows lift almost up to her hairline. “Did you say someone bombed a bank?”
“Yeah,” I say while pulling my pants up.
“You forgot your underwear,” she points out quietly.
Looking down, I push my junk into the jeans and carefully zip up. “Nah, I don’t like wearing ‘em.”
Shaking her head, she forces her attention away from my cock. “Someone blew up a bank… because you bombed their restaurant?”
“Looks like it. The risk of retaliation was always going to be high no matter what we did. That restaurant was a money laundering front for them,” I say as I sit down to pull on socks and my boots.
“Oh god,” she mumbles.
Reaching over, I grab her ankle and pull her to my side.
“Stop!” she pushes at me.
“No,” I say quietly.
“But… but all this violence…” she croaks as she looks up at me.
“Would have been happening with or without you. Your father insulated you from the world he operated in. Lots of things were happening you never got to see.”
“But…” she whispers, shaking her head.
“Right or wrong, it happened, Meghan. Whether you knew it or not, shit was going down,” I say and wrap an arm around her shoulder.
“I just don’t…” she starts but stops. “How much of what’s happening now is my fault?”
“Don’t even try to follow that path, Meghan. Just don’t. Fucked up shit’s always going on and it’s not going to stop anytime soon. This shit’s been going on long before you came along. Long before I was around,” I say, and try to stop the anger inside me that wants to reach out and murder anyone who makes her hurt like she does.
“Is this all there ever will be? Pain and death?” she asks. “Blood and innocents dying?”
“No,” I say with a growl. “I aim to make sure these fuckers are all six feet under.”
“But that just means more killing.”
“It does, but I was brought out for a purpose. I’m the dog let off the leash. It’s Lucifer’s way of showing the world that playtime is over.”
Hugging her tight to my side for a moment, I almost start shaking with the inner turmoil of leaving her here without me.
“I gotta go check out what’s happened, and I need you to stay here and keep out of trouble for a few hours,” I say.
Looking up at me with a frown, she asks, “Why are you leaving me alone? I didn’t think that was something you were comfortable doing...”
“I have to trust you sometime, Meghan. Trust that you know doing what I tell you is in your best interest. They want you back. Alexei is pissed that I took what he thinks is his property.”
“I’m not just some piece of property, dammit!” she snarls at me before standing up from the bed. “I still have my head on my shoulders. It’s up to me to make decisions, not you, and definitely not that asshole.”
“Decisions that could cost you and others by making the wrong choices,” I say.
Pacing back and forth in front of me, she stops cold.
“What do you mean?” she hisses at me, her anger palpable.
With a small grin, I say, “Do you really think you’d be so lucky as to be the only one hurt if this goes to full-scale war? That you’re the only one affected by this?”
“Again, what do you mean?” she snarls out.
“Beth,” I say with a shrug.
“What does this have to do with her?” she asks, and that righteous anger is fading away at the mention of Johnathan’s wife.
“You met her. From what I remember, you liked her and their son Charlie, right?” I ask.
“Are you threatening them!?” she asks, balling up her fists.
Her posture stiffens as she stalks toward me.
“Fuck, no. I don’t kill kids, Meghan. But Alexei sure does. Ever wonder how Johnathan and Beth met? Does she look like she’s old enough to have a boy Charlie’s age?” I ask. “Think about how old he looked, then look at those two. They’ve been married for less than a year. Beth’s only just now hitting her twenties. Charlie doesn’t look like either of them, does he?”
“What the hell are you saying?” she asks.
“I caught a bit of their history. Alexei, the same guy who wanted to marry you, was running a slave ring,” I say.
Eyes wide, she says, “What?”
“Yeah, that same slave ring was floating through Garden City, and more than likely Bethlehem. Lucifer didn’t take kindly to that shit going on. Beth got snatched right outside of Johnathan’s bar.”
“Oh my god,” she says as she stands there, looking at me in shock.
“The inner circle staged a quick operation to take down that slave ring and got Beth back, along with some of her friends. Charlie, it seems, was a tag along on that. The Russians were going to sell the boy off to someone who would’ve done some truly dark shit.”
“He’s just a small boy...” she says.
“A small boy who’s seen more bad shit in his life than most.”
“And Beth?” she asks.
“One of her friends got in the way and paid the price. The others… I don’t know. I think her friend Sophia is okay. Beth got her pound of flesh, but they didn’t catch Alexei.”
“Alexei…” she whispers.
“Yep, the one and the same. You’re not the only innocent out there that’s been
hurt by that fuck. He’s out there right now, planning or doing more shit. Like I said, you need to listen to what the hell I say.”
“I’m your guardian fucking angel,” comes out of my mouth as I stand up before her.
“How long will you be gone?” she asks.
“A few hours. We’ve got food in the house now… Don’t answer the door,” I say, and take her delicate hand in mine.
Pulling her forward, I wrap my arms around her shoulders. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how fucking small she is compared to me. Or the way it feels like she was made for my body. Made to fit me perfectly.
“Okay,” she murmurs into my chest.
“I’m leaving the handgun and the AR-15 with you. I’ll pick up your body armor after I check out the bank. Then we’re going to head out to the gun range. You need to show me what you can do.”
“Promise me we’ll get Alexei,” she whispers, looking up into my eyes.
“I promise we will.”
* * *
A burnt-out husk of a building looks pretty fucked up in the dawn’s early light. If Alexei wanted to send a message, he sure as fuck did it right.
Message received.
Putting the phone to my ear, I stare at the smoldering building while the fire department slowly combs through it.
“I have Lucifer on the line with us,” Simon says.
“How’s the property?” Lucifer asks.
“You can’t see this shit from all the security cameras we have around here?” I ask as I look up to one and shoot the middle finger.
“We do, but what’s your impression? You’re the explosive expert,” Lucifer says with a growl.
“They used some seriously heavy materials to hit this level of devastation,” I say.
Even the vault and safety deposit are in bad shape. Everything was blown to fucking bits. This was a tough job to do. You could have used a rocket launcher and not have gotten these results.
“I’ve put out to the media that this was a disgruntled person we foreclosed on,” I say as I start walking around the building.
I’m surprised that Alexei had this kind of team working here in the states. This is some heavy fucking shit he’s blowing up.
“It’s a good enough excuse as any,” Lucifer says.
“They knew where to plant the bombs. Knew where to get the biggest bang for their buck,” I say as I bend over a couple of bent and charred metal beams. “Someone gave them the blueprints. I’d get on the line and find out who. They came here to put a dent in us, this wasn’t for show.”
Rubbing off the dark burn marks on the metal, I sniff at the acrid smell. “This wasn’t C-4. I’d get the fire department to take samples so that we can start trying to identify exactly what was used.”
“Will do. Have you spotted any faces in the crowd?” Simon asks.
“None. At least, none that look out of place. I doubt whoever did this is still in the city,” I say.
“Do you think this was one of Alexei’s men?” Lucifer asks.
“Is he recruiting former FSB or SVR?” I ask.
Standing up from the metal, I start heading back to the truck.
“Yes, from the intel we’ve amassed, he’s been recruiting heavily from their ranks,” Simon says.
“If that’s the case, I don’t think he used an outside contractor for this. This was too well put together, and in such a short period of time.... I can’t believe they managed to pull it off this quickly.”
I hear a new voice in the background. “Agreed.”
“That Andrew?” I ask.
“It is. Meet us back at the compound,” Lucifer says.
“On my way. Get me a new vehicle, Simon. This one’s not going to be good for much longer. I can guarantee the Russians got eyes on me right now. They’re probably in a building somewhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t have a message for us sometime soon. They want to talk.”
* * *
Walking down one of the many hallways in Lucifer’s home, I see Simon standing outside of the office, talking on his cellphone.
“It’s time to come in from the cold, Eric,” I hear him say as I get closer.
Walking past him, I stop and look into the office, spotting Andrew sitting in a chair across from Lucifer. Johnathan looks up from where he’s perched on the side of a chair and nods at me.
“Think about what I’ve said,” Simon says into his phone before he disconnects.
“I’ve put out a call to a man I know and want to bring into the circle,” Simon says as he walks past me.
Following him, I’m tempted to trip his ass, but right now I’d rather just get this shit over with so I can get back to Meghan.
“What kind of guy?” I ask as I take a seat.
“Hitman. Very good at his job, and very trusted. He’s worked for us in the past, out east. Reliable, and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. He’s had a spot of trouble with some of the heavy hitters, got shot up in Cincinnati. But with the time and healing he’s had, he’s ready to land somewhere permanent,” Simon says as he gets comfortable in a chair with his laptop in his lap.
“Get him here as soon as you can. If you vouch for him personally, I’ll meet with him,” Lucifer says, then motions to me. “So what do you have for us, any more thoughts?”
“Nothing beyond these guys are going to start hitting more and more targets. I’ve seriously pissed them off if they’ve gotten their shit together quick enough to hit us like this,” I say as I look down at my hands.
Something doesn’t sit right, though.
Looking back up, I add, “I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t in the plans all along. They had to work too quickly to get shit like this planned out. I know I’ve been inside of a cage for ten years, but I can’t imagine they were able to get all the shit they needed in the scant hours they had.”
“How long would it take to get the materials for something like this, Simon?” Andrew asks.
“For us? In our own backyard, six to eight hours,” Simon answers without hesitation.
“We’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. Shit like this would take some time to set up, especially if they needed the building blueprints, materials, and the right guys to pull it off,” Johnathan says.
“They had it in the works then. Perhaps even before the wedding. What if this is just a continuation of the bombings they started with Lucky Tails?” Lucifer asks.
There’s a long silence as we all think about that.
“Then it’s time for me to ramp shit up,” I say with shrug. “Where’s James and Jude?”
“James is with the police chief, smoothing things over. It seems that Sommers isn’t as useful as he used to be,” Simon says. “Jude is watching over a few guards for a couple of investment properties we can’t afford to lose right now.”
“Strip joints?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Our other banks,” Lucifer says with a smirk of his own.
“Fuck, we’re going that legitimate now?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
“For our progeny. We’re still the disreputable crowd, as always,” Lucifer says.
Well, fuck me running. Being legit is a scary fucking thought.
“You’re not expecting me to wear suits like those two fucks?” I ask, pointing at Simon and Andrew.
A large grin spreads across the evil fuck’s face as he says, “Of course, in due time.”
“I’d rather fucking choke,” I snort.
“Back to the business at hand. The new tech that Sommers has talked about is now on every police vehicle in Garden City. It’s called an LPR, or License Plate Reader. We’ve known about the software and hardware since its inception, but until recently it’s been tightly controlled,” Simon says.
“Isn’t that thing the little mod they have affixed to the cop cars now? Reads the plates of every car they pass?” Andrew says.
“Exactly,” Simon says. “Going over the video feeds around the church, I was able to pull two license pl
ates numbers. Although I’m unable to ascertain which exactly is Alexei’s, I’ve put in a tracking request for those two plates.”
“As soon as they start moving, we should be able to find them?” I ask.
“Yes, with time I should be able to follow them through Garden City and Bethlehem. If a police car picks them up, I’ll be able to link them through traffic cameras and such,” Simon says with a grin as he flips the laptop around for us to see. “Two black Audis. One was riding with enough weight to show it had at least four passengers, perhaps five. The second had two or three men in it.”
“You don’t think they’ll swap plates?” Johnathan asks.
Simon shrugs his shoulders. “More than likely, no. They don’t have our developed contacts and information. If they do, it will make our job of tracking these men down much harder.”
I nod my head. “Figures. Any trees you need me to shake?”
Lucifer shakes his head. “Not yet. With the hit on the restaurant and the bank, we need to keep our actions more covert. Let’s see what kind of message they try sending us. It should be soon.”
“Sounds good, but I’ve got a feeling the Irish aren’t going to be happy with us no matter the outcome of this little war. We’re working with the Italians. From what Meghan has told me, her mom getting hit with a car bomb has put a huge rift between the two factions,” I say.
“I don’t buy it being the Italians. They had no reason to when it happened, and it’s not their style anymore,” Andrew says.
“Really?” I ask as I turn to look at him.
“Yeah, the Italians weren’t even trying to take over territory in Bethlehem. They were busy fucking around with the Russians when that shit went down over here in Garden. Why the hell would they go for a war on two entirely different fronts?” Andrew says and points to Lucifer.
“He’s got a very good point,” Lucifer says as he looks over to Simon. “Put a call over to our Italian contacts. Let’s see what they have to say. I think us befriending the Irish would go a long way in offsetting what the Russians have been doing.”
“If the Italians didn’t do the hit, who did?” I ask the room.
Snickering, Johnathan says, “They don’t call the drink the Irish Car Bomb for no reason.”