And Danny. Danny visited intermittently. He was the only one of the guys who wasn’t assigned to Robbie who still showed up at the house regularly. And Lila didn’t know the details of Cian’s business. Maybe there was some specific function Danny did that required speaking to Robbie here and there. But something about it seemed off to her, and she couldn’t shake the gut instinct that it mattered.
However, while Cian had instructed her to get information on his father, he hadn’t mentioned it again in several weeks now, and he definitely hadn’t said, Hack into my parents’ security system. She wasn’t sure what she was seeing at Robbie’s house would be information welcomed by Cian, or if he’d be so pissed she’d done it, he’d…
She stopped her train of thought. He’d what? Have her whacked?
She snorted with a burst of laughter. Cian was frightening, but he wasn’t some stereotype TV mobster. And really, if she were honest with herself, Cian was anything but frightening with her. He was steely when he had to be, but there was something vulnerable about him at the same time. And she knew everything he did was for his brothers. When he’d come to her and asked for new identification and security measures for Connor, she’d seen the relief on his face. He’d wanted Connor to go, even while she knew he missed him like crazy.
She looked at the time stamp on the footage again, and then started pulling up previous footage, setting the system to search for Danny’s face. Then she began recording all the times and days, looking for patterns, which was her strength. There was something here, she knew it, just as there was something in Robbie’s bank accounts, and when she went to Cian, she’d have the answers. If he was pissed, then he was pissed, but he’d been the one to set her on his father, and that was because he knew something he wasn’t telling her. Robbie MacFarlane was a threat to Cian or his brothers in some way, and a threat to Cian might as well be a threat to Lila, because, dammit, she loved him right back.
Chapter 5
Robbie MacFarlane brushed the USB drive aside, settling his arms on the surface of his massive wood desk. He hated goddamn technology. He could use it if he had to, but how he longed for the days when being in charge meant a gun in one hand, your enemy in the other, and a car waiting outside the back door.
“What’s on it?” he asked.
“Some of Finn’s greatest hits,” Danny answered. “Him cleaning up the last few events we’ve had. I know how much you like to keep insurance around.”
Robbie shrugged slightly in agreement. He did like to keep insurance, especially on his sons, who seemed to be less and less obedient as time went by.
“Tell me about the girl,” he demanded. “The hacker.”
Danny shifted in his seat, and Robbie’s eyes narrowed. He could sense Danny’s reluctance when it came to the woman. Yes, she was attractive, but she was just a woman. What his oldest son, and now obviously his rat, saw in her, he couldn’t figure out.
“She hasn’t been around that much. She’s been taking care of her mom, but I think the sales on her website are going fine.”
“What kind of security does Cian have on her?”
“One of us with her at all times, outside the house at night. We drive her where she needs to go, just like we do with him, Liam, and Finn.”
Robbie snorted in disgust. “That kind of protection is for family only.”
“Yes, sir,” Danny replied. “I get the impression she’s doing something more than just running the sales through Rogue.”
“Yeah, she’s fucking him,” Robbie snarled.
Danny’s look of discomfort grew. “Not very often,” he muttered. “It’s something other than that, something to do with the business.”
“Then find out what the hell it is.”
Danny nodded and stood. “Sure thing, boss,” he answered lightly.
Normally, this would be when Robbie gave Danny his bonus for ratting out Cian, but Robbie wasn’t feeling so generous today. It had been weeks since his youngest son, Connor, had disappeared. Nothing Danny had brought him was getting Robbie closer to finding Connor. Cian was continuing to run the family business without including Robbie, and now he didn’t know what was going on between Cian and Lila.
No, Robbie wasn’t feeling very generous at all.
“Get me what I want about the girl. When you do, I’ll have something for you, but not until then.”
Danny nodded stiffly, turned, and strode toward the door.
“And Danny?”
Danny stopped, looking warily over his shoulder at Robbie.
“Don’t go getting attached to the little hacker,” Robbie warned. “She may not be around forever.”
Katya sat on a mattress on the floor, her ribs throbbing as the waning light filtered in from the high windows in the room she and Nadja now shared with only five other girls. Her second beating had been brutal, and days later, she was still discovering new places that hurt.
“You can’t do that again,” Nadja scolded from behind her as she braided Katya’s damp hair, being extra gentle, her voice thick with emotion.
“I may not be able to stop them, but I won’t make it easy for them—or enjoyable,” Katya snapped.
Nadja stopped her ministrations and leaned around Katya’s shoulder so she could look her in the face. Katya couldn’t help but notice the dark circles that had appeared under her friend’s eyes along with the slight tremble in her hands.
“I thought you were dead this time,” Nadja whispered. “Please don’t do it again.”
Katya smiled at the only thing in her life that mattered now. “You don’t need to worry about me. I know how far I can push. I’m worth too much. It’s the boobs,” she announced, plumping both with her hands.
Nadja shook her head but smirked at the same time before she went back to braiding Katya’s hair. Katya secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Upsetting Nadja was the last thing she wanted to do. It was obvious they were feeding Nadja drugs, and if Katya was right, her friend was already addicted.
It made the need to escape even more essential. Unbidden, the image of a big, broad man flickered through her head. Blue eyes, a tattoo peeking out the collar of his T-shirt. The smell of his warm leather jacket when he’d held it out to her.
She closed her eyes and tried not to regret her decision. She could have been out—away—and the thought had occurred to her afterward that if she’d done it, she could have gone to the police, told them about the other girls, maybe gotten some help to rescue Nadja. But in Katya’s world, the world of post-Communist Russia, police were owned by the same men who held her captive. What was to say the police in Chicago, USA were any different?
And what if the man who’d offered to rescue her had only wanted to take her to another place just like this one? No, it had been too big a risk to take. She couldn’t leave Nadja on so little possibility. She had to get them both out, or it wouldn’t be worth escaping at all.
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the pain in her ribs, focusing on the feeling of Nadja’s fingers in her hair. And later on, when Nadja had been allowed to shower as well, she returned the favor and braided Nadja’s hair, then she put her arms around her friend’s thin shoulders and held her as Nadja shook with the need for the next fix.
That was when Katya decided—she was going to find a way out. Or she was going to die trying.
Chapter 6
“Shit,” Liam whispered to himself as he watched two well-armed Russian guards position themselves on either side of the entrance to the brothel.
He’d been busy all day with organizing distribution, a job that used to belong to Connor. Since Connor left, he and Finn had been sharing the responsibilities. Finn had set up a new and better way to do it, but it still required they check up. The guys who took the product to the streets were often only one step above junkies themselves, and they needed a lot of monitoring to ensure they didn’t take shortcuts that could put everyone in jail.
As a result of the babysitting, he was later getting
to the brick building on East Twenty-Third than he’d intended. He’d missed the window between seven and ten p.m., and now there were Bratva men everywhere.
He crouched in the darkened portal of the shuttered slaughterhouse across the street and debated his options. He could come back another night. It was the logical thing to do. The smart thing. The safe thing.
But for days now, all he’d seen when he went to bed at night were the haunted eyes of Katya—Katerina—as she sat defiantly in that chair and insisted she wouldn’t leave without her friend.
She was courageous in a way he’d not found many women to be. Oh yeah, he knew it was sexist, and it wasn’t that he didn’t think women could be—after all, Connor’s girlfriend, Jess, had endured a solid beating from Vasquez soldiers before she and Connor had gotten away from the family business and Chicago. But Liam didn’t meet many women in his line of work, and the ones he did were party girls at clubs or the women who belonged to his men.
His relations with women were either polite distance—wives and mothers in the neighborhood—or quick fucking—drunk girls in storage closets or bar bathrooms. He had to admit, he hadn’t given many women the opportunity to be real and courageous.
But Katya, there she’d been, having recently been beaten, undoubtedly raped too, and she had a chance to get out, but she’d turned it down.
Of course, from her perspective, the men who were known might have been preferable to the unknown—him.
He scrubbed a hand over his scalp as he watched two more men approach the door to the warehouse. They said a few words to the guards, then were admitted.
Dammit. It wasn’t like him to be indecisive. Either he was going to do this or he wasn’t, but hiding across the street wasn’t going to make it any easier.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. That haunted face reappeared before him, and the decision was no longer his to make.
“Shit,” he muttered again, before quietly moving out of the doorway and walking away from the warehouse, down the block, and around the corner toward the only gas station in the area. His car was parked there. He was going to need it.
Nadya had been the first one taken from their room that night, and Katya was, as usual, sick with worry. What if they gave her too much of the drugs? What if Nadya was so out of it, she couldn’t defend herself? What if they overdosed her? Their captors had a few basic standards—no marks on the face—but they allowed men to give the girls all sorts of drugs, and Nadja was in no position to decide how much she could take of anything.
And only two nights ago, a girl had been smothered to death by the man who’d bought her. Katya had heard the man screaming for mercy when Sergei, the big boss, beat him until he agreed to pay the full value of the girl—twenty thousand US dollars.
The rooms they kept for the women to entertain in were sparse—a bed, a nightstand, a mirror, and a few basic toys—a strap-on dildo, a blindfold, some edible lotions. And of course, plenty of lube and condoms. The Bratva were very specific that they had no use for pregnant women nor diseased ones. But all a man needed to kill a woman were his two bare hands.
The door opened, and Katya and the other three girls who were in the room all turned stiff with terror. “You three,” the man named Petrov ordered, pointing to Katya and two other blondes. “Come with me.”
Katya swallowed the bile and stood, lifting her chin and ignoring the appraising look Alexei gave her as she walked past him in the doorway.
“You’d better behave yourself tonight, suka, or you might not make it to see tomorrow.” He smacked her on the ass, and she hissed at him like a snake.
Alexei laughed as they moved down the hall. When they reached the end, another guard outside one of the rooms they entertained in told them to walk inside, turn around once slowly, then come back out.
The room was bigger and fancier than the ones Katya had seen before. It had a carpet on the floor, an attached bathroom, and furniture beyond just the large bed.
Katya was the last in line and didn’t see the man sitting in the low-slung modern armchair until she was right in front of him. He sat loosely, a glass of something amber dangling from his fingertips. His knees were spread wide, jeans and heavy boots covering his lower half, while a plain white T-shirt fit snug against his massive chest. He sat like a king on a throne, and while his eyes were covered with a pair of reflective sunglasses and his buzz-cut hair was obscured by a Chicago Cubs cap, she’d know him anywhere.
She glared at him, feeling betrayed he’d come back to take advantage after his offer to rescue her. She’d been right to refuse his so-called help. He was no better than the rest of them. Any remaining fantasies she’d had about America dissolved right then and there. There were no good men anywhere, not in Russia, not in Chicago, USA. Men only wanted one thing, and they didn’t care if you were willing to give it or not.
She couldn’t tell if he was watching her face, but she mouthed a Russian profanity at him and pivoted to walk away as quickly as possible.
“That one,” he said behind her, his voice deep and gritty.
Alexei watched the other girls walk out ahead of her but blocked her exit.
“He picked you,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You’ll redeem yourself this way. He’s paying triple the usual executive rate. Make sure you earn it.” He leaned close, his breath fetid as he got right in her face. “You fuck this up and your next stop is the dumpster out back.” Then he laughed, and slammed the door in her face.
Liam sat watching the young woman as she stood, head bowed, facing the door, refusing to turn and look at him.
He hoisted himself out of the chair and walked partway to where she stood.
She was in lingerie again, tiny pink satin shorts and a matching camisole, and while he didn’t want to be an asshole, he couldn’t help but notice her long legs and pert ass. She was thin and graceful, like a ballerina, her wavy hair in a loose braid down her back.
“Do you want the rest of this drink? It’s safe. I had some. But we don’t have a lot of time, so you need to drink up quick.”
She spun around, her eyes practically shooting flames.
“We don’t have a lot of time?” she snapped in her exotic accent. “Don’t you have money for full hour? Or maybe you think I’m not worth hour? You are only thinking it’s fun to try the one who bit a man’s cock?”
Liam tried not to grin at her fury. She wasn’t short, but she looked as though she’d blow over with a strong wind. Yet she had all the conviction and passion he’d been privy to when he’d first found her, and it made him secretly pleased they hadn’t broken her yet. Because she was sort of amazing.
“I’d guess you’re worth a hell of a lot more than the hour I just paid for, and while the idea of having my dick bitten is oddly intriguing, I’m actually just here to get you out.”
She blinked at him, her blue feline eyes framed by dark lashes that looked as though someone had smudged charcoal on them.
“Get me out?”
“Yes,” he said, holding the glass of bourbon out to her. She shook her head stubbornly, and he shrugged, swallowing the rest of it in one shot.
He set the glass down on the end table next to the chair he’d been sitting in. “I should have taken you with me when I was here the other day. I realized it thirty minutes after I left.”
“I told you I cannot go without my friend.”
He pursed his lips. “Yeah, I understand, I really do, but I can’t manage that yet.” She started to open that wide, full mouth but he stopped her, shaking his head emphatically. “No, not today. But I give you my word, I’ll work to get her out as soon as possible. My brothers and I have a lot of resources at our disposal. We’ll get her, but not tonight.”
Katya scowled, arms crossed under her ample breasts. “I don’t even know who you are,” she argued.
Liam knew time was of the essence, and he didn’t have enough to placate this woman. She was fierce, and that was admirable but also a pain in the ass
.
He walked past her and opened the door, leaning out to look at the hall. One of the guards was a few feet to the right, sitting in a chair playing a game on his phone. He stood and began lumbering toward Liam. “You need something?”
Liam smiled benignly until the man got close enough, then he swung hard and fast, knocking the guy back a few feet as his fist connected with jawbone. He followed it up with a booted kick to the man’s nuts, then brought both fists down on the back of the guard’s head, sending him sprawling to the floor, out cold.
He could hear Katya’s gasp as he squatted and took the guard’s gun out of his shoulder holster. He stood and looked at her where she was gaping in the doorway to their room.
“Two choices,” he said. “Come quietly, or I’ll carry you out ass first. The second way’s more likely to get us both killed.”
She swallowed, her eyes large as she looked at the guard on the floor, then back at him. Finally, he held out his hand, and she tentatively took it.
“Good choice,” he murmured, then pulled her down the hall toward the staircase that led to the upstairs window he knew was still ajar.
Chapter 7
“Now what?” Robbie MacFarlane snarled as Danny came sauntering up to him where he sat holding court at the pub he’d owned for three decades.
“Need to talk to you,” Danny said, his face communicating nothing. “Cian sent me.”
Robbie nodded to the other men at the table, all old colleagues who’d worked for the Dublin Devils in one capacity or another over the years. He’d always run staffing loose, allowing men to leave his employ if they had a good reason. In his experience, it was just as valuable to have friends who owed you outside the organization as it was to have men who worked for you inside it.
Brush of Despair (Dublin Devils Book 2) Page 6