by Roxie Rivera
“No!” Alexei couldn’t allow it. He would take a bullet to the brain before he let Shay leave with Lalo.
But he wouldn’t have to make that choice. He had been so intent on watching Lalo and that damn gun that he hadn’t noticed Kylee inching along the edge of the bed until she was directly behind the drug dealer.
In a flash of blonde hair and with a banshee’s scream, she hefted up a blood-stained crystal paperweight and slammed it right into the back of his head. When Lalo lurched forward, Shay rushed him and grabbed his wrist, shoving the gun’s muzzle toward the ceiling.
“Shay!” Alexei cursed loudly and raced to intervene. “Fuck! No!”
Kylee swung the paperweight high and cracked Lalo on the side of the head this time. Just then, a bright bolt of lightning hit nearby and lit up the room with a shocking blast of light. A heartbeat later, a crack of thunder shook the paper-thin walls of the motel. In that same instant, Shay threw her knee into Lalo’s stomach—and the gun fired.
The eardrum piercing crack of the bullet momentarily deafened him. Amid the muzzle fire, he spotted a burst of blood. His heart stuttered painfully in his chest. He grabbed Shay by the shoulders, picking her up and swinging her out of the way and onto the closest bed. Unable to breathe, he frantically looked her over. There was blood all over her skin. His fingers slipped in the messy stuff, but he couldn’t find the source. “Where did the bullet hit you?”
“I’m okay!” she shouted hysterically. “I’m okay. It’s not me.”
There was blood on her face, neck and chest but it wasn’t hers. Before he could fully process how the blood had gotten on her, Kylee screamed again. Like a woman possessed, she hit Lalo with the paperweight, this time between the shoulder blades. The drug dealer slumped forward and flopped onto the ground.
Blood poured out of his mouth and pooled on the carpet. In the struggle, Shay or Lalo had caused the weapon to fire and a bullet had ripped through his face, entering just under his chin and taking off most of his lower mouth and jaw. Lalo’s limbs shuddered wildly, as if he were having a seizure, and then he expelled a ragged, noisy breath. Had the bullet lodged in his brain? Had the multiple blows from the heavy crystal paperweight finally killed him?
With a sob, Kylee dropped forward onto her knees. The crystal teardrop hit the carpeted floor with a loud thunk. Shay scrambled off the bed and half-crawled, half-stumbled her way to her best friend. She wrapped her arms around Kylee and rocked her like a mother would a small child.
“Holy shit.”
Alexei whirled around at the sound of Besian’s voice. The boss stood in the doorway of the motel room, his hair wet from the rain and the hem of his neatly pressed trousers soaked. Devil, his face a ruined mess of scars, stood behind his boss and looked on with little emotion. Like Sergei, Devil had been hired for his size and strength and his ability to intimidate with nothing more than a glare.
Without taking his eyes off the mess in front of him, Besian ordered, “You need to get her out of here, Alexei. Right now. I’ll deal with the mouthy blonde.”
“Oh, no you won’t!” Shay growled like a mama bear, her voice so filled with hatred that it stunned Alexei. “You aren’t touching Kylee. You already killed her father. I won’t let you hurt her.”
Completely confounded by Shay’s accusation, Alexei shot his attention to Besian who seemed totally thrown by the charge. He tilted his head, studying Kylee’s face, and then recognition dawned. “You’re Monty Benson’s little girl. The one with the horse.”
“I’m not so little anymore.” Kylee stood with Shay’s help and roughly wiped at her wet nose and cheeks, smearing Lalo’s blood on her skin. “And you took my horse, you asshole.”
Besian didn’t take kindly to anyone calling him names. “Your father was the asshole who got into debt he couldn’t service. No one made him bet on those games or races. No one made him come into the club to play cards. He put that rope around his neck because he was a failure as a provider, a husband and a father. Don’t even think about putting that shit on me.”
“Boy, you’re real tough, aren’t you? Stealing a little girl’s horse? Having your thugs beat up my daddy? Taking the life insurance money and the house and driving a sick woman and her kid into a homeless shelter. You’re just some big fucking gangster hero, aren’t you?” Kylee stepped over Lalo’s bent legs and raised a fist as if to strike Besian. “I’ve already taken out one gangster tonight. Maybe I’ll go ahead and make my score an even two.”
Shit. Alexei moved in front of Kylee, shielding her from Besian’s wrath, and Shay grabbed her friends arm, desperately pleading for her to hush. “She’s had a shock,” Alexei insisted. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
“She better learn to keep that mouth of hers shut unless she wants Hector Salas to send one of his hit squads after her—and Shay,” Besian added with a threatening edge.
Because there were years of friendship and history between them, Alexei understood Besian wasn’t actually threatening to hurt Shay. The boss was trying to put the fear of God into Kylee, to make her shut up and get in line.
“She’ll be quiet.” Alexei cast a warning glare at Kylee who eventually nodded stiffly.
Devil edged his way into the room and unfurled the tarp. “Lorik and Jet have the Hermanos boys tied up and tossed in the back of Bek’s Tahoe. I sent Lorik with Bek to stow them away at the safe house until you decide what to do with them.”
Alexei wondered if those five men understood their lives were held in Besian’s hands now. What the Albanian boss would do was anyone’s guess.
“Do you have any cash on you?” Besian patted his pockets. “Because I’m clean out.”
“I have a little,” Alexei said, already reaching for his wallet. “But not enough to buy the silence of an entire motel.”
“I have money.” Shay rubbed at the drying blood spattered on her cheek. “It’s on the front seat of Kylee’s truck. It should be more than enough.”
Besian glanced at Jet who lingered in the doorway waiting for orders. “Get the money and bring it to me. Then take the loudmouth home and sit on her until I’ve secured her safety.”
Wordlessly, Jet left the doorway and returned a few moments later with the sack of cash. He handed it to Besian and then motioned for Kylee to join him. She walked toward him on shaking legs. Jet tugged the black hood on her jacket over her blonde hair. It was a surprisingly gentle action from a man with a ruthless, cold-hearted reputation. “Can you drive?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll follow you, but we’re taking the back roads. Got it?”
“Yes.” She glanced back as if seeking Shay’s approval.
Shay nodded encouragingly. “I’ll be okay. Go.”
When Stas’ familiar face appeared in the doorway, Alexei grasped Shay’s upper arm and guided her toward the street soldier. “Get her out of here. Take her back to the apartment. Get her cleaned up, but don’t let her out of your sight.”
Seemingly stunned by his callous regard, Shay blinked at him. “Alexei—”
He ignored her entreaty and kept his gaze focused on Stas. “Take away her phone. I don’t want her contacting anyone.”
“Come on.” Stas clasped her hand and tugged her out of the dingy motel room. “Move.”
The hurt etched into her beautiful face bothered him, but he wasn’t going to show her an ounce of kindness or softness right now. She had deliberately broken his rules. She had put not only her life but her friend’s in danger. Lalo Contreras was dead, and there would be hell to pay for this, from Hector Salas and the cartel, from Diego and the Hermanos street gang loyal to Lalo, from Nikolai for upsetting the fragile balance of power in the city and from the police who would no doubt start sniffing around when Lalo’s disappearance became public knowledge.
“I’ll deal with this. You contact Nikolai.” Besian thumbed through the cash in the bag. Alexei hated to even think about how long Shay had worked to earn that money. “You should get out of here
before anyone recognizes you.”
He cast one final glance at Lalo’s now lifeless body before heading for the door. When he reached it, he paused and looked back at the room. “Where is Shannon? Shay must have come here looking for her so where is she? Was she ever here?”
Realizing they might be one girl short, Besian looked under both beds and then in the bathroom. When he came back, he said, “It looks like she went out the back window. The glass is broken, and there’s blood.” He waved a cell phone. “She left this behind. Do you want to give it to Shay?”
He took the phone from Besian and tucked it away in his pocket. Looking around the room, she said, “If you find anything else that belonged to Shannon in this room, trash it.”
His instructions given, Alexei put his head down and ventured into the stormy night. The rain was cold and miserable and so heavy, but the lightning and thunder were useful. With all the noise of the storm, the fight and gunfire seemed to have gone unnoticed by the other occupants of the rat hole motel.
Sitting behind the wheel of his SUV, he inhaled a long, steadying breath. He needed to find a pay phone as far away from here as possible. Nikolai’s fury would know no bounds tonight. All of the pain and punishment for this would land squarely on his shoulders. He had claimed Shay as his—and now he had to pay the price.
Chapter Twelve
Shaking from the cold rain and an adrenaline rush, I pulled my arms out of the sleeves of my hoodie and crossed them against my chest. I burrowed down into the warmth of the slightly damp fabric and wondered if I would ever stop trembling. Stas’ wild driving wasn’t helping any. Every time my teeth stopped chattering, he would veer around another vehicle or stomp the gas even harder. “Can you please slow down? You’re going to wreck and kill us!”
“Oh, now you’re worried about people getting killed, huh?” Stas glared at me. “Jesus Christ, Shay! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? God, if you were my girlfriend, I would toss you across my lap and beat your ass for this stunt!”
“If you were my boyfriend, I’d throw myself out of this moving car before I let you hit me!” I slid closer to the door, almost as if threatening to do it.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Stas reached over and smacked the lock button on the doors, just in case. “Don’t be childish.”
“Don’t be such a jerk! Do you think I wanted this to happen?”
“I don’t know what to think about you anymore. I thought you were a smart girl. I thought you understood what Alexei was risking for you. I was wrong. You just shit all over everything he did for you. Do you have any idea what Nikolai is going to do to him? What Hector Salas is going to take from him?” Stas shook his head. “You’ve ruined Alexei.”
The guilt I felt for helping take a life, even if it was the life of a miserable, cruel man, was nothing compared to the new guilt I experienced upon fully accepting my responsibility for hurting Alexei. What would Nikolai do to him? Would he have him beaten up or worse? And what would Hector Salas want? Money? His businesses? His home?
Fresh tears burned my eyes. Flashes of the fighting and the gunshot and the horrible gurgling noise Lalo made as he died tormented me. I still couldn’t make sense of any of it. How had everything gone so bad so fast?
Shannon was still missing. My best friend had helped me kill someone. Alexei was going to lose everything he had worked so hard to build. It was all my fault.
You’ve ruined everything. Suddenly, I was ten-years-old and cowering in a corner as my drunken mother screeched at me for running off her latest boyfriend. It didn’t matter that I had caught him trying to hurt Shannon or that he had tried to put his hands in my shorts. She had been so furious with me. The awful things she had said still cut deeply, the wounds unhealed and forever sore and bleeding.
I rolled my shoulders as the phantom strikes of the extension cord she had whipped me with made my skin crawl and sting. Stop thinking about that. It’s over. It’s done. She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore.
Too soon, we arrived at the parking garage. Stas pulled into the second assigned spot and shut off the engine. He looked me over and then shrugged out of his leather jacket. “Put this on and cover up that blood. Pull up your hood again and keep your face down. You’ve got Lalo’s blood all over your face.”
“I know.” The stickiness and the coppery stink of it turned my stomach. Desperate for a shower and a good scrub, I did what Stas told me and followed him up to the apartment.
After grabbing a trash bag, he marched me right into the master bathroom and started a hot shower. “You know the drill. Strip. Put everything in here. Toss it out the door when you’re done.”
“Even your jacket?” I asked, eying the expensive leather with guilt.
“You got his blood all over it. It’s going to the incinerator.”
“Stas, I’m sorry for—”
“Spare me,” he meanly retorted. “Just get clean.” He tossed the garbage bag onto the vanity and walked toward the door. Pausing there, he turned back to me. “Didn’t I tell you that you needed to keep him happy? Didn’t I warn you?” He exhaled roughly. “I would strongly suggest you spend the time you have thinking about all the ways you can make this up to him. Or at least figure out a way to keep him happy tonight,” he added. “Because if he puts you out on the street? You won’t make it to sunrise, Shay.”
His warning given, Stas stalked out of the bathroom. The door slammed behind him, and I jumped. Heart racing and stomach churning with anxiety, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The bruise on my cheek was now decorated by dried specks of blood. Every time I breathed, I smelled the acrid stink of the gunfire. My eardrums still ached from the close proximity of the shot.
Again and again, I replayed the moments before the gun fired. Lalo’s finger had been curved against the trigger. My hands had been wrapped around his wrists. He had either jerked the trigger when I kneed him in the stomach or when Kylee whacked him with that paperweight he had been using to threaten us. Technically, he had shot himself but I feared that was a thin, weak defense.
What happened if someone decided to talk to the police? Alexei, Stas, Besian and his crew—they were all highly recognizable men in the underworld. I feared a taste of hush money would be just enough to whet the appetites of the motel occupants. They might resort to blackmail or worse to get more money.
Would the police believe me if they picked me up? Would I even survive a night in lockup while the facts were sorted out? There were probably a dozen cops on the cartel payroll and twice as many inmates in the county jail ready to stab me in the neck for what I had done.
You’re panicking. Calm down. You can’t change anything now. It’s done.
I shrugged out of Stas’ jacket, peeled off
my hoodie and jammed both into the garbage bag. The rest of my clothes followed. Naked and shivering, I stepped into the shower and let the hot water blast my skin. I couldn’t get to the soap fast enough. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was raw and sensitive and then shampooed and rinsed my hair three times just to make sure every single strand had been stripped of Lalo’s blood.
While I let conditioner soak in, I touched my forehead to the milky white marble and closed my eyes. Where are you, Shannon? Are you still alive? I figured Ruben had ratted her out and Lalo had gone after her. She had either escaped before he could grab her or she had been kidnapped and hauled away before I had arrived.
Remembering what Lalo had said before he died, I wondered how deep the identity theft scam really went. I suddenly understood why he hadn’t fought to protect Ruben after the scam had been uncovered by Mr. Mueller. He must have known that it was only a matter of time until his connection was made public, either by a panicking Shannon or a scheming Ruben. Letting Mueller’s men hunt them down and kill them meant they would be silenced quickly.
But it hadn’t worked that way. Ruben and Shannon had escaped. I suspected Lalo had planned to use me as bait to draw Shannon in and silence her. That
hadn’t worked either. It had all blown up in his face—literally.
Done with my shower, I dried off and wrapped up in the towel. I poked my head out of the bathroom door and discovered Stas leaning against the door frame, texting someone. He glanced up at me and then back down at the screen. “Where is your phone?”
“Kylee’s truck,” I answered, still hiding behind the door.
“If you’re lying to me—”
“I’m not!” Shocked by the way he was treating me, I snapped. “Oh my God, Stas! Yes, I made a huge mistake, but I’m still the same girl who watched reality TV with you last night. I’m the same girl you pinched with chopsticks at lunch when I stole one of your dumplings. I’m the same girl you taught to count to twenty in Russian this morning.”
“And I’m still a street soldier who takes orders and does what he’s told,” he retorted simply. “You made your choice. These are the consequences.”
“So what? I’m a prisoner now?”
He shoved his phone in his pocket and leveled a no-nonsense look my way. “I’d be very careful using that argument with Alexei. This so-called prison of yours is a hell of a lot nicer than the ones he knew.”
Neatly put in my place, I swallowed nervously. “Will you please step outside so I can get dressed?”
“You have five minutes. Bring that bag of clothing to the living room.”
After Stas left, I tried not to break down into tears again. He was right. If this was my punishment, it was so much better and easier than what I probably deserved. I was safe here, and no matter how angry Alexei was with me when he came back, he would never hurt me. He was probably going to yell but he wouldn’t put his hands on me.
I quickly slipped into the only nightgown that Alexei had packed for me. Feeling underdressed, I picked up the Markovic MMA hooded sweatshirt I had been wearing last night and put it on, leaving it unzipped and wearing it like a short-hemmed robe. I grabbed the bag of soiled clothing and left the bedroom.