“All right.”
“But I can have a word. I’ll make it clear women and kids are off-limits.”
Rogan watched him. “I’d appreciate that.”
The other man stood. “This means our slate is clean. We’re even.” In other words, Mota no longer owed him a favor.
“Understood.”
“Good. Don’t contact me again.”
Rogan sat back and took another sip of his drink. Mota hadn’t once asked after his son or Natalya. Did that mean he didn’t care? Or did he have eyes here? Had he been checking on them?
Nah, probably not.
One problem taken care of. On to the next.
Oleg.
His phone rang and he answered. “Cillian.”
“Just had a call from Viktor, Boss. Anisimov’s been shot.”
“What? Is he alive? Who did it?”
“He’s in surgery now. They think he’ll live. No one saw the shooter. But, I can’t find Oleg and no one has any idea where he is.”
Fuck.
“Keep searching. I’ll go to the hospital. See what I can find out.”
***
Five hours later, fatigue weighing him down, Rogan entered his house.
“How is he?” a quiet voice asked.
He glanced up to find Miller sitting on the stairs in her normal spot, staring down at him.
“You should be in bed, a thasice,” he lightly scolded.
She flew down the stairs and into his arms. “I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined it was you who had been shot.”
Rogan ran his hand up and down her back, holding her close as she shivered. He should have come home earlier.
“I’m fine, a thasice.”
“I know. I’m being silly.”
“Not silly.” Not silly at all. It could have easily been him on that operating table, a bullet in his chest. But he’d do everything he could to keep himself safe.
“Will he live?”
“The doctors say he will. It was close. A few inches over and they wouldn’t have been able to save him.”
“Thank God he’s all right. Did you see Sofia? Was she all right? I should have gone with you.”
He didn’t want her close to the Russians right now. Any of them. Not until they knew who had shot Anisimov.
“I saw her. She’s holding up. I also had a talk with her about Oleg. She wouldn’t tell me much other than she hasn’t seen him lately.”
“You can’t find him?” Worry filled her gaze.
“No. But I will.”
“I’ll go see her tomorrow. See what I can do to help.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
She pulled back to stare up at him in confusion. “Why not?”
With a sigh, he ran his hand over his face. Damn, he felt exhausted. “Because I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”
“You think Sofia’s in danger?”
“I have no idea. And I don’t like not knowing. Which means I can’t allow you near her.”
“Allow me?”
He winced. Wrong word to use.
“I need to know you’re safe. I can’t concentrate if I’m worrying about you.”
“Well, it’s not a walk in the park for me, sitting around, wondering if you’re all right. Sofia is my friend. She needs me.”
“Until we know who did this, you’re not going anywhere near the Russians. End of story.”
She ground her teeth together, glaring at him.
Rogan sighed, running his hand over his face. “I’m sorry, a thaisce. I don’t mean to be a controlling asshole. I don’t want you getting caught in the middle of this mess. Much as I like Sofia, she isn’t my priority. Your safety, though, is right at the top.”
“I get it. I just wanted to help a friend.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I will always protect you over everyone else.”
“I understand. I feel the same way about you. Don’t get yourself shot. Understood?”
He kissed her. “I wouldn’t dare.”
***
Miller pulled the tray out of the oven as the smoke alarms blared. “What the hell am I doing wrong?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think my ears can take another blasting from the smoke alarms,” Colm told her as he shut them off and opened all the windows. “Maybe the cheesecake is never meant to be.”
“But I’m supposed to be cooking a four-course meal in a week. How can I do that without any dessert?” Natalya was cashing in on the bet Miller had lost.
She’d put in a request for strawberry cheesecake. This was the third unsuccessful attempt.
“Damn it.” She slumped on the barstool with a groan.
“Look,” Colm said, obviously taking pity on her. “I know a bakery where they sell the most amazing cheesecakes.”
“That’s cheating.”
“What would your guests rather have? A cheesecake that, while not homemade, tastes amazing. Or that.”
He pointed at the burnt, crispy remains still sizzling on the oven tray.
“Tell me the name of this place.”
He wrote it on a card for her. “Thanks, Colm.”
Nodding, he grabbed a hand towel and picked up the smoking dish. “I’ll get rid of this for you.”
Miller yawned, glancing down with surprise at her ringing phone. Who would be calling at this time of night?
Sofia’s name popped up on the screen and she swiped her finger across it.
“Hi, Sofia. What’s going on?”
Hopefully, she wasn’t calling to ask her to work. Miller hated having to let her down, but Rogan was adamant about her staying away from the Russians. They still hadn’t discovered who shot Aleksandr or found Oleg and his friends.
“This isn’t Sofia,” a male voice answered her. “Although she close by. Are you alone? Think careful before you answer.”
Crap. She knew that voice.
“Yes, I’m alone. What do you want, Oleg? What do you mean she’s close by?”
A muffled sound followed by a loud curse came through the earpiece.
“Don’t do it, Miller! Don’t listen to—” Sofia’s voice broke off with a scream.
“Miller,” Oleg said in his greasy voice. “You listen good unless you want me hurt your friend.”
Sofia’s pain-filled cry made Miller wince.
“Stop it! Stop hurting her. I’ll do whatever you want.” Panic engulfed her and all she could think about was helping Sofia.
“A car is outside for you. You to sneak out and get in. It going to bring you to me. You tell anyone and she die. You understand?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it.”
“Get in car. You got three minute. Time tick away.”
Rogan would kill her, but she couldn’t risk Sofia getting hurt because of her.
“There, all done.” Colm walked back into the kitchen.
Miller stretched her arms into the air and yawned. “You know, I’m kind of tired. Think I’ll head up to bed now.”
Colm nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hoped so.
***
“Boss?” Cillian asked, stepping through the door of his office at Underworld.
Rogan leaned his back in his chair, resting his feet on the corner of the large desk. He’d just had a chat with Finn and much as he didn’t like having to crush the kid, he couldn’t have him guarding Miller anymore. But he’d spoken in haste the other day about never letting him come back. So he’d dropped him back down to shadowing some of the other men. He obviously needed to start at the beginning again.
“Yeah?”
“A call has come through for you on the main phone. Claims he’s Miller’s father.”
“How the hell did he get our number?” He waved his hand as Cillian went to reply. “Doesn’t matter. Put him through.”
“They’ve got Miller.” Said a male voice, rough with worry.
“Who is this?” Rogan dem
anded.
“Miller’s father. Theo Toresso.”
“Who has Miller?” Rogan asked, a chill going up his spine.
“I been sticking close by, hoping to get Miller alone. You know, I wanted to chat with her.”
More like he wanted money.
“And?” Rogan asked urgently.
“And I saw her sneak out. I could tell she was sneaking because she was trying to stick to the shadows. Didn’t teach that girl to hide good enough, though.”
“Get on with it,” Rogan snarled.
He placed his hand over the receiver so he could speak to Cillian.
“Get Colm on the phone. Make sure Miller is there.” He didn’t trust her father.
“I saw her climb into this car. It sped off before I could get closer.”
“Boss?” Cillian interrupted. “Colm can’t find her anywhere.”
“Fuck! Why didn’t you follow her?” he asked her father.
“I’m on foot. I’ll wait in the house for you to get here.”
“Whatever.” Right now, Toresso was the least of his worries. He ended the call then stood, glancing over at Cillian. “Give me your phone, I need to talk to Colm.” As soon as he had the other man’s phone, he took off through the club, Cillian close on his heels.
“Colm, see if she left a note,” he said into Cillian’s phone. “Anything.”
“On it. I’m sorry, Boss. I didn’t know she’d left.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just find her.”
What the fuck was going on? Where was she? Why would she sneak off?
Why hadn’t she called him?
***
Miller moved towards a run-down building, directed by the heavily-tattooed man who had driven her here. This wasn’t a good area to be in at night. At any time, really. She could hear sirens in the distance and a homeless guy shuffled past, muttering to himself, smelling of booze and body odor.
What the hell was going on?
Miller ran her gaze over her surroundings, cursing the lack of street lighting. She needed to figure out what to do. It was no use screaming for help—any screams would be ignored in this part of the city.
She hoped like hell someone discovered her note sooner rather than later.
The stench of unwashed bodies, garbage, and other less savory things made her gag as she stepped into the building. The man behind her nudged her with his gun.
“Get moving.”
She’d never seen him before; she’d remember a face like his. A tattoo of a spider web covered his face and a large spider climbed the web on his left cheek. He hadn’t worked at Solnyshko and he didn’t have a Russian accent. Who was he and what was his role?
He prodded her into a well-lit room where Sofia sat, her hands bound in front of her, legs tied to the legs of the chair, her eyes wide with fear.
Oleg stood behind her, a huge grin on his ugly face. He placed his hands on Sofia’s shoulders, ignoring her flinch.
“Miller, so glad you join us.”
“Didn’t think I had much choice.” Her gaze darted around the room with its few chairs and small, square plastic table, searching for exits, anything that might give her an advantage. The table held a half-empty bottle of whiskey, cigarettes, and a few bags of white stuff. Cocaine?
“You know most people here.”
She glanced around. Besides Oleg and the tattooed man, there were two other men. Pavel and Anton. They’d both worked at Solnyshko. “Oh, except my friend behind you. His name is Arnie.”
“Arnie isn’t a very Russian name,” she commented, fishing for information.
“He not Russian. He is member of Seven Sinners. We have mutual goals. We both want your old man dead.”
Those words punched her in the guts, making it hard for her to catch her breath.
“Shut up, Oleg,” Arnie snapped. “You talk too much.”
Holy shit that guy was scary. If she were Oleg, she’d have kept her mouth shut.
But Oleg was either built of tougher stuff than she was or he was much stupider because he just grinned.
Oleg ran his hand down Sofia’s chest to cup her breast. Sofia sat there, frozen, her gaze fixated in front of her. Miller gritted her teeth against the urge to lunge forward and smack his hand away. How was Sofia even coping with any of this? Her boyfriend had betrayed her in the worst possible way.
Miller had never understood how she could be with Oleg, but she must have seen something redeemable in him. Something very small and very hidden.
“What does it matter? She going to die anyway.”
“Seven Sinners?” she asked, ignoring the last comment. Oleg was seriously underestimating her if he thought she would roll over and accept her fate.
She was a fighter. She wasn’t giving up.
“You’re working with these guys?” she asked Arnie. Seriously? Arnie? He looked more like a Lucifer or Hades.
Arnie scowled at her. “Sit down. Shut up.”
“You know once Rogan finds you guys, you’re all dead,” she threatened as Arnie pushed her into a chair.
“Not if we kill him first,” Arnie said with an unpleasant grin.
Oleg pulled Sofia’s head back by her hair and kissed her. She flailed around, obviously trying to free herself from the disgusting pig, but her bound hands and legs constrained her.
“Let her go, asshole!” Miller lunged forward, fury filling her. Heavy hands pulled her back, slamming her into the chair.
“Sit still and shut up,” Arnie told her. “Oleg, stop fucking around.”
Oleg pulled back, laughing as Sofia attempted to wipe her mouth with her arm. “You’re a jerk.” Sofia scowled at him.
“I been wanting a taste of you for months.” He moved over to the table and grabbed a cigarette. He grasped his crotch. “Think I get myself a good taste later. What you think, boys? Want a go at the ice princess?”
The other men laughed and joked amongst themselves.
Miller gazed at Sofia in confusion. Hadn’t she been dating Oleg? Had she not slept with him already?
“I never dated that pig,” Sofia told her. “He told everyone I was and I had to go along with it. How anyone could believe I would date this loser, I don’t know.”
Oleg walked over and slapped her. Hard.
Miller winced, growling. “Stop it!”
“Who will stop me?” Oleg taunted. “You? You going to help me bring death to the great Rogan MacGuire. Then I go finish the job I start with Anisimov.”
“You shot Aleksandr?” Miller gaped at him. What the hell was he doing? Had he really attempted to murder the leader of the Russian mob?
“I work for months to get in with that asshole. I try to get in this icy bitch’s pants.” He pointed over at Sofia, who glared at him, a red mark on her cheek. “When she refuse to go along with my plan, I go to plan B.”
“Blackmail,” she told Miller. “He blackmailed me to help him get close to Aleksandr. I had no choice but to agree, although I definitely never slept with the bastard.”
How long would it have been before Oleg pushed her further? Until he’d taken what he wanted.
“He has a video of Aleksandr he threatened to hand over to the police if I didn’t go along with him.”
And she hadn’t told Aleksandr? The other man would have spread Oleg’s body pieces across the state.
Miller would have cheered him on.
“I nearly get somewhere and then you come along.” Oleg glared at Miller. “So MacGuire’s death is your fault.”
What the hell had she done?
“You told MacGuire I hurt you. Now he hunts me. You know how hard it is to hide from that bastard? You ruin all my plans and now you pay.”
Miller swallowed. “What are you going to do?”
“First, MacGuire part with cash if he want you back. Then we take cash and get rid of him. And you.”
“And you think Rogan’s men are going to let that slide? That they won’t hunt you down?”
“Their leader de
ad. It take time to sort things out. By then, we be long gone.”
She glanced over at Arnie. “What about you? What do you get out of this?”
“He want MacGuire dead, too,” Oleg told her with a sly grin.
Arnie nodded. “MacGuire has made my life hell for years. But I’m not hiding from him any longer. The Seven Sinners are rising and I’ll be with them. MacGuire is in my way.”
“Why would Rogan be after you?”
“MacGuire blame him for killing friend,” Oleg stated.
She stared at Arnie. This was the man who’d shot Lucas? Rogan had been searching for him for years.
A thought suddenly occurred to her.
“Was it you who tried to run Rogan off the road?” she asked. “You were trying to kill him?”
Arnie grinned. She shivered. He started rolling up his sleeves. “Soon he will be dead and I can get on with my life.”
Sofia gasped, drawing her attention. The other woman stared at the tattoo on Arnie’s arm, transfixed.
What the hell was wrong with her? Had she finally lost it?
“What? You’re acting like you never saw a tattoo before. Get me a cigarette,” Arnie snapped at one of Oleg’s men.
“You’re wrong if you think you can use me,” Miller told him.
“But I already am.”
“Hey, what about me?” Oleg protested. “I put this together. I shot Anisimov.”
“You fucked that up! You didn’t kill him.”
“I said I take care of it!” Oleg kicked a chair over with a yell then strode off.
Maybe there was something she could use here. Oleg wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed, and he had a temper. If she could pit the two of them against each other, she might buy some time to figure out what to do.
Arnie stretched. “Oleg, call him. Make the ransom demand. I have some phone calls to make.” He turned and left the room, Oleg glaring after him.
“You always let him speak to you that way?” she asked Oleg.
“What?” He scowled at her.
“Do you always let him boss you around like that? Funny, I always thought you would be too masculine, too alpha to let someone else take charge of you.”
“He not in charge of me.”
“No? Sure sounded like he was.”
Redemption (Cavan Gang #2) Page 13