Jane took a deep breath, pulled her gun from the holster underneath her jacket and stepped out into the living room.
Gruber looked up in surprise at seeing someone in his house. Recognition flickered across his ruddy features and then a combination of resignation and sadness.
"I've been expecting you," he said, not getting up from his chair. "Thought you'd come sooner though."
"Gunshot wounds take time to heal," she snapped, keeping her gun level on his relaxed form.
"I meant, I thought your boyfriend would be by sooner," he clarified.
Jane's eyes flickered around the room, trying to determine if he had a weapon. She couldn't see anything. "I didn't tell him."
"I figured," he said heavily. "He shot up half the town searching for your attacker and didn't come sniffing around me. If you'd told him, I’d be hanging out with Dennis Yankovich by now." He looked at her speculatively. "He doesn't know you're here."
"No," she confirmed.
"Once he finds out, I'm a dead man. Even if you decide not to kill me."
"I'm not going to kill you Grubs, I just want some answers.” He flinched at the pet name she used to call him. “Whether you live or die depends on you. Once you’re in custody, you can be sent to a federal prison in a different state, out of Sitnikov's influence."
"Nothing is out of his influence."
She shrugged unconcernedly. "I guess we'll see. It's really your only option."
He sighed heavily and reached beside him.
"Stop!" she snapped.
He looked at her steadily and then very slowly reached for his beer. Holding the bottle loosely between two fingers he took a long drink, emptying most of the liquid down his throat. She watched steadily as he finished and set the bottle down on the table beside his chair.
"You’re the private eye, you tell me what happened," he said, watching her through red eyes.
Jane wasn't really in the mood for games, but she recognized how close to the edge Gruber was despite his seemingly relaxed position. She didn't want him to decide to use her to commit suicide.
"You were in Sitnikov's pocket, yes?" When he nodded, she asked, "From the beginning or after the interrogation?"
"Interrogation," he supplied. "His guys got to me that night."
She nodded. "Sitnikov himself came to see me that same night and tried to get me to back off. You organized the warrant search. You smoothed his way, didn't you?" She laughed bitterly, "I should have realized you wouldn't have helped that easily if you hadn't been under orders. God, I was so blind."
Gruber shifted forward in his chair. His voice sounded tired. She might have felt sorry for him under different circumstances. It was clear he had been feeling the stress for some time, wondering when she, or worse, Sitnikov, would confront him. "He wanted us to be thorough so there wouldn't be any suspicion on either himself or the department. He also wanted me to make sure you were involved. That wasn't difficult considering your hard-on for the guy,"
"That makes sense," she said softly. She'd known Sitnikov had manipulated the judge. Why wouldn't he have help in the police department as well? The best person to keep an eye on Jane would be her partner. The best person to help him get her fired.
As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, he quickly denied, "I didn't get you fired McKinley. That was between Sitnikov, his lawyer and the higher ups in the department."
She snorted in derision. "Great, you didn't get me fired. You only shot me instead!"
He went pale at her accusation, but didn't deny it. He couldn't. His last message to her had confirmed his identity. Even if he hadn't been the shooter, he had been instrumental in leading Jane to the place where she was attacked. She hadn’t been 100% certain until just now. The alley had been shrouded in darkness at the time of the shooting. That, combined with the trauma of that night, had erased his face from her mind.
"Why, Gruber?" she asked quietly. "I thought we were friends?" She knew that was a bit of a stretch considering they had many differences and had rarely hung out. Jane blamed herself for that. She suspected if she'd had more patience with her inept partner they might have developed a closer relationship, or at least something approaching friends. Still, her remark hit home. Tears sparkled in his red-rimmed eyes.
"It's hard to have friends where the Russians are concerned," he said, his voice breaking a little.
Jane frowned. "The Russians had me shot?"
That didn't make sense. Her relationship with Vlad was stormy and, despite her earlier accusation that Vlad might have had her shot, she knew better. Vlad would never harm her. The fact that he had let her slice the shit out of him in the bunker while barely laying a hand on her confirmed that fact.
Gruber shrugged. "That's what I thought at the time. The order to have you killed came from the same source that had instructed me on the search warrant. You see, McKinley, I didn't have a choice," he pleaded with her.
She shook her head, refusing to take the bait. "There are always choices. I would have died before killing an innocent."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're elbow deep in mafia shit these days, you're about as innocent as I am."
"I didn't shoot an unarmed woman," she snarled, pacing closer to him. "You fucked me over Gruber. I'm not going to give you the consolation of thinking you were doing right. You shot me and left me in the dark, you tried to kill me," her voice broke on a sob.
"I'm sorry. I’ve regretted it ever since," he said pathetically.
"Fuck sorry!" she yelled at him, bringing the gun up and stepping closer to him. "I can't have children thanks to you. Did you know that? Did you bother to find out what happened to your old partner after you left her bleeding in a dirty fucking alley?"
Tears seeped from his pain-filled eyes and trailed over his fleshy cheeks. "I didn't know Jane, I'm so sorry. I knew you'd survived and when I found out you were with Sitnikov, I figured out he wasn't the one that gave the order. Been trying to lay low ever since. I knew you'd come eventually."
Jane swiped the tears from her own cheeks and took deep gulping breaths. She'd thought she could confront Gruber with calm professionalism. She'd been wrong. The pain she had buried at his betrayal was now coming out. Part of her was soothed that he clearly hadn't wanted to shoot her. As far as he was concerned he was following orders from the Russians. Not a people you could say no to. She understood that, though she couldn't respect him.
"How did you get the order to take me out?" she asked softly, bringing her emotions brutally under control.
He used his sleeve to wipe his face and looked at her sadly. "Does it matter? You're safe now under Sitnikov's protection. At least shooting you did that much. No one can touch you now."
"Don't even pretend you have anything to do with keeping me safe," she snapped. "Tell me how you got the message!"
"Yes, tell us how you came to be in that alley behind my warehouse with my woman," asked Vladimir Sitnikov in a quiet voice that held a wealth of menace. He stepped into the room from the back hallway.
Jane gasped and swung her arm around. Vlad stared at her coldly for a moment and then raised a brow at her gun, which was pointed at his heart, her skull encrusted nail sitting lightly on the trigger. Seeing that he was unarmed, she moved her finger and dropped her arm.
She frowned up at him. "How did you find me?"
His lips twitched grimly and his gaze shifted over her shoulder to Gruber and hardened. His eyes promised death while he spoke to Jane. "It wasn't easy. We chased your cell signal all over this damn city before catching up with you here. Even then I could only trace you to the nearest tower. Luckily Boris remembered that this is the neighbourhood your ex partner lives in."
She should have known. He most definitely hadn’t let her just leave that morning without a tail. Vlad's reach was vast and inescapable.
"You knew I would lead you to my shooter. That's why you let me leave the house un-escorted.” She wasn't asking. They both knew she spoke the truth.
> "Da," he agreed, "though I had no idea we would be chasing you all over the city or I might have had a tracking device placed directly on your person. I am somewhat annoyed and pleased that I underestimated your intelligence, malysh. I will try not to let this happen again."
Jane was about to say something snarky about his intelligence when he reached for her. Jane gasped and tried to step back, but he was on her so fast she didn't stand a chance. He had each of her wrists in a tight grip and sidestepped the vicious kick she had aimed at his knee. He wrenched her wrist until she gave up her gun to him with a sharp cry. He let go of her wrists and pulled her into his chest. Jane struggled for a moment until she realized he was done attacking her, having accomplished his goal of removing the gun from her hand.
Jane cradled her bruised wrist to her chest and shoved an elbow into his ribcage. He grunted, but otherwise gave no indication that she'd scored a hit. His deadly gaze was on Gruber who had half risen from his chair. Holding Jane tight to his chest Vlad tucked Jane's gun out of the way and pulled his own from a holster at the middle of his back. Jane gasped when he pointed it at Gruber.
"Please, Vlad," Jane said reaching out for his arm. "Not like this. I wanted to let the law take care of him. If I'd wanted this I would have told you who shot me from the start."
"He shot you, Jane," Vlad said patiently.
"I know!" she snapped. "I was there, remember?"
"He doesn't get to shoot my woman and live. It would set a bad precedent."
"For who," she cried, tugging his arm uselessly. "You know of other people who might want to shoot me? Because I have to say Vlad, no one ever wanted to shoot me before I met you."
His lip quirked in humour. "I doubt that, you have a habit of pissing people off."
"Let's just talk about this Vlad," she asked pleadingly.
His eyes moved to her, looking at her pale features for a moment. He nodded slightly and Jane relaxed into his side. "Alright, I will compromise." Then he wrapped an arm around her head, pressed her hard against his chest, protecting her ears and shot Gruber twice.
Jane jumped as the weapon discharged. She shoved at Vlad's chest and turned to stare at her former partner. The force of the shots had thrown him back into his chair. Her eyes widened when she saw he was still alive. He was clutching at a wound on his abdomen while a hole in his arm bled freely. Vlad had shot him in the same places Gruber had shot her. Jane tried to go to Gruber to help him, but Vlad caught hold of her arm in a steely grip.
"Leave him."
"He'll die if he doesn't get help!" she said frantically, clawing at Vlad's hand.
"You would have died if I hadn't found you in that alley. You would have bled out alone and suffering in the dirt," he growled down at her. To Gruber he said, "You have the choice to call for help or sit here and bleed out. If you somehow survive then you'll turn yourself in and spend several years in a prison thinking about the inadvisability of crossing me."
Gruber groaned, and tried to stand. He fell to the dirty carpet in a heap. Jane struggled against Vlad's hold but he refused to let her go. He turned on his heel and escorted her out the back door, through the yard and into the waiting vehicle. It was the SUV she had borrowed that morning, with Boris at the wheel. Vlad opened the door, shoved Jane into the car and climbed in behind her. Boris exited the scene with haste, but not enough speed to draw unwanted attention.
"Go back!" Jane begged. "Please, we can still help him!"
"It's too late, Jane. We will not be going back. He deserved worse than he got and if you hadn't been there I can assure you I would have made him suffer in ways you can't even imagine." He sounded angry that he hadn’t been able to exact the vengeance he’d been planning on.
She threw herself away from him to the other side of the car. "You're a sick monster, Vlad. You just confirmed everything awful thing I ever thought about you."
"I never professed to be a saint," he replied in a low voice, his watchful gaze brooding.
Jane lapsed into silence. There was nothing she could say. Vlad had been determined to find the identity of her attacker and he had patiently waited until she led him to his prey. Gruber's death would be as much her fault as it was his. She should have known he would find her and take vengeance into his own hands. Despair welled up in her. She couldn't stay with a man who could cold-bloodedly make another suffer in such a way. It was different seeing it first hand over knowing he was capable of such things. She had to find a way to get him to release his hold on her otherwise she might not survive being the girlfriend of such a man.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The ride home was icily silent. Vlad allowed her to brood without comment or touch. Though she had been a cop for ten years, she wasn’t used to seeing such brutality from a person with whom she was emotionally involved. Jane stifled a bitter laugh. She never got emotionally involved with anyone, so her entire fucked up relationship with Vladimir Sitnikov was a novelty. If pressed, she couldn’t even begin to describe her own feelings toward the tall, dark mob boss. Fear. Lust. Hate.
"Is this why you didn't just take me when you had the chance? You wanted me to find out about my former employers? All those months ago, I practically dared you to fuck me on your doorstep. You wanted me to know he was in your pocket, but you didn’t want to be the one to tell me." Her voice wavered with pain and anger.
He looked across the length of the seat at her with cool disinterest. "That was part of the reason. At the time you weren't ready for me yet."
"And now I am?" she asked with a shiver.
"You are a good woman, Jane McKinley. I don't think you will ever be ready for a man like me."
Jane laughed bitterly.
“I’m just the best kind of woman. I led you right to Gruber and watched you shoot him. I’m staying in the same house with a known criminal and allowing you to take care of me, have sex with me,” she finished, her voice dripping with self-disgust.
His eyes became ice. “You will moderate your language, Jane, if you do not wish to feel the heat of my belt kiss your backside. An experience I will make sure you will not enjoy.”
Frustration and anger welled up inside Jane. She balled up her fists and smashed one into the leather between them, ignoring the way his body stiffened in warning. “Fuck you, Vlad. You don’t own me and you don’t get to tell me to moderate myself. You’re just… just a murderer and I’m just your whore.”
Jane didn’t really believe in regrets, but the instant the word ‘whore’ left her lips she regretted it. Vlad’s eyes turned from ice to fire. His gaze flicked to the front seat where Boris was steadily pretending not to hear them. She was getting so used to Vlad’s silent shadow that it didn’t even occur to her to think before speaking. Clearly it occurred to Vlad though.
Vlad rubbed his scarred chin with long fingers and said in a low calm voice that belied the tension snapping in the space between their bodies. “If you prefer to be my whore that is your choice. It will be my pleasure to show you the difference. I will show you how much I really do own you, Jane. At least your body.”
Jane shivered and pressed back into her seat. The implacable Russian never spoke without purpose. He would follow through on his promise. That much she had learned about him in her year-long quest to bury the man. She crossed her arms in front of her and wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into. She didn’t say another word. There was no point. She had already said enough.
Vlad said something in guttural Russian to Boris, who cast the Boss a sharp look in the rearview mirror before turning his stony gaze back to the road. Jane was too busy silently seething and planning in minute detail how to take down Vlad’s empire one illegal piece at a time to notice their detour until they were well into the glittering downtown district. She frowned and shifted in her seat to look out of the tinted window of the SUV. This was definitely the more well-to-do, swankier part of town. As a homicide detective, her job had rarely brought her among the privileged set that frequented these stree
ts.
She raised an eyebrow as Boris turned the vehicle down a road that led toward the river and pulled into the garage of an obviously expensive, but tasteful brick fronted building that had been recently restored into loft apartments. The place oozed money, privilege and old world charm. Very much Vladimir Sitnikov's style.
She turned in her seat as Boris halted the vehicle and exited through his side to go around to Vlad's door. Jane turned to Vlad with a frown. "What are we doing here?" she asked.
He ignored her, reaching over to unbuckle her belt. Taking her by the arm, he pulled her across the seat toward him and hauled her out the door Boris had opened for them. Vlad didn't hurt her, but he wasn't gentle either. After their heated exchange, he was clearly not in the mood to indulge Jane. He used a key card to unlock an elevator, which opened immediately. Turning to Boris, Vlad dismissed him with cold finality.
Boris nodded and turned to leave, his gaze lingering on Jane's face. Confused, she followed Vlad into the elevator and watched Boris get into the SUV. He drove away while the elevator doors closed on them. Jane frowned and studied the floor of the elevator. She was sharp enough to understand that Vlad had probably brought her to an apartment he owned in the downtown district of the city. She was starting to suspect she understood why he would bring her here and dismiss his loyal enforcer for the evening. What she didn't understand was why he would leave himself so vulnerable to attack, just to teach her a lesson in humility.
He used the card and a code to unlock the elevator once it arrived on the fourth floor. As the doors opened she was unable to suppress an impressed gasp of awe. The building, which was probably once a warehouse, had been completely retrofitted into luxury bachelor apartments with sweeping ceilings and huge glass windows with expansive views of the river and city beyond. A massive bed dominated the room, leaving no doubt as to what the apartments main use was. It was a lovely space, though sparsely and coldly furnished. Nothing like the heavily Russian influenced mansion, as though Vlad didn't care about this space beyond an immediate need. Jane both loved and hated the apartment on sight.
Savage Vendetta (Fire & Vice Book 4) Page 14