Betsy: Northern Grizzlies MC (Book 6)

by M. Merin

  On the road to the small commuter airport, I book the flight and listen to Bree.

  “I’m going to talk to Wrench. I’ll make sure he sends you the info you need. You book a mid-range hotel and be careful. You call me twice a day or I’ll come after you. Understand?” I nod, trying to suppress my grin over her worry. “Now, I know you’ve avoided Vice for a while and all, but…”

  “I haven’t had time to think about that, Bree. They said he saved Russian. I know that was because they’re Brothers and not because of me, but it still means a lot to me,” I sigh. “Keep an eye on Roy for me, please? This’ll be so hard on him.”

  “He and Flint are close, and of course, Emma will watch out for him,” Bree responds.

  “When I asked for your help…well, I don’t want you and Flint…”

  “Hush, he’ll understand. It’s Russian you need to be worried about, he’ll likely turn you over his knee,” she mutters and I giggle.

  She looks at me and her lips twitch, making me laugh harder. The two of us are howling as she pulls into the airport moments later. “You stay safe, Betsy,” she hugs me close.

  “Love ya, mama bear,” I squeeze her tight and try to ignore my nerves.

  I hurry through security just in time for boarding, the plane is half empty as I stow my bag. Sitting down and buckling up, I look out the window and wish this wasn’t my first time in an airplane. That my first time had been flying somewhere romantic with Artem.

  Feeling someone sit in the seat next to me, I turn my head and almost scream.

  “Thought I told you, you were staying home, Betsy?” Flint says softly.

  “Would Bree stay home if it were you?” I counter and can immediately see I struck a nerve.

  Hearing a laugh, I turn my head and see Gunner in the seat – actually taking up both seats on this small plane – behind us. Wrench is in the row beyond him, squeezed in next to Royce and Smithy is across the aisle from them. The other passengers are trying not to stare at us.

  “No, Betsy. Bree wouldn’t stay home if it were me,” Flint acknowledges. “That doesn’t mean Russian isn’t going to tan your hide.”

  Gunner chuckles again and I turn and give him a little wink. “I can live with that,” I say, resting my head on Flint’s shoulder. “I can’t believe Vice is dead,” I whisper and Flint pats my head.

  “He was always larger than life,” comes his quiet reply.

  Chapter 15

  Russian

  It’s amazing how quickly my native tongue comes back to me. I barely speak to anyone around me, but I listen and absorb everything my father says – including his whispered exchanges with Vadim.

  San Francisco was a surprise. I figured Kuznetsov would try to move me out of the country as soon as possible. It turns out my old man has cancer and the specialist and care center he needs is here, so I’m to get up to speed on his businesses in the meanwhile.

  “Artem,” he calls out. “The tailor will be here shortly, and get him a barber also, Vadim.”

  His right-hand man grimaces slightly at these tasks, but I know it’s all a part of my father’s way of making Vadim understand he is to serve me.

  Vadim’s head cocks to the side and I can tell he’s listening to something in his ear piece. Motioning to me, I follow him to a smaller room where the tailor has started to lay out his wares. Vadim stands by the door as the man sets about his business, watching over me as I’m measured and finally I speak. “I don’t want any of this, Vadim. It’s yours by right.”

  “I’m a bastard. I have no rights.” His English is poor but passible.

  “I’m a bastard. What makes us different?”

  “You have his blood,” Vadim responds but I see a tick in his cheek.

  “You know him better than anyone. You know his businesses. You know his contacts. You know his men.” I list out every reason I know he hates me being brought in. “I want my life here. I want to ride with my Brothers. I want my woman in my bed every night. I want her full with my child.”

  The fire in his eyes lessens and he looks away with a shrug. “It’s what he wants that matters.”

  “When Kuznetsov dies, I walk away and you take his place,” I say it simply. Not as a threat against the man who sired me, not as a bribe to the man in front of me.

  “I wanted to kill your brother since his tenth year,” he says, looking at me for a reaction. “I did it with pleasure the night he attacked your father. You, I don’t think I would have wanted to kill so badly.”

  “But if he orders it, you will.” I finish his thought.

  “If he orders it, he will have Betsy brought before you and she will be slaughtered first.” I growl and brushing aside the tailor, I walk towards Vadim as he continues speaking. “The whore lost her value when she lost your child.”

  I grab him by the throat, holding him against the wall. He’s so fucking confident he just stares at me unblinking as I grip him tighter and tighter.

  Frustrated that he knows Little Bit’s name and even more so that I can’t kill him without wrecking my only way out, I bring my knee up into his balls, finally getting a reaction from him. I walk away.

  I lock my bedroom and then my bathroom door. I’m still shaking with rage when I pull the tailor’s cell phone out of my pocket. It’s something called a Jitterbug with no security features to worry about, and as far as I can tell, no internet access either. I take a chance and call Jasper’s phone.

  He picks up but doesn’t say a word.

  “How is she holding up?” I ask.

  “Can’t figure out where she was holding that temper all these years,” Jasper sounds like he’s smiling. “She tore into all of us when she didn’t think we were moving fast enough.”

  “I’m at the Peninsula. He has the floor with the Presidential suite. There are fifteen highly trained…”

  “We had everything but the floor. What’s your plan?”

  “If I leave without resolving this, his men will target all of you. He will make Betsy an example. You have to get her somewhere he’ll never look, you have to protect her.”

  “Betsy ran off on us after Wrench mentioned San Fran in front of her. She was already on board the flight your Brothers ended up on,” he says and my heart stops. “You listening? She’ll be protected but you’ve been on that phone to long. Ditch it and call me back in when you can. Just know she’s in the city with five others.”

  “How’s Roy doing?” I ask.

  Jasper pauses but hangs up without answering.

  I squeeze the phone so hard the plastic backing cracks. I am going to tan her ass once I get her home safely.

  Changing into sweats they had provided me the day before, I head down to the workout room, two of my father’s men tagging along behind me. Hitting the john once I finish my run, I dump the pieces of the phone and head back out to do some weights. An hour later, I’m relieved to see a housekeeping attendant blocking the bathroom door open with their cart and wrap up my session before my two shadows think to check the trash.

  Betsy

  The first night in the hotel I couldn’t sleep and walk down the hall to the pop machine. Hearing the laughter coming from Gunner’s room, I knock on his door.

  Royce opens it, beer in hand. “Come on in.”

  Smithy keeps talking, telling some story about when he was on the road with Vice. Everyone is roaring with laughter and I just grab a beer before sitting quietly near Flint, enjoying the impromptu wake. We all sit up until breakfast time, telling stories and remembering him. There was a time I thought I’d be Vice’s Ol’ Lady. That thought didn’t last nearly as long as my crush on him, but as my feelings for Artem grew I learned the difference between a girl’s infatuation and a woman’s love.

  Vice had the former, Artem will always have my heart. I’ve grown so much these past few years, and without Vice, I never would have found Artem. That’s something I’ll always be grateful for…that and his sacrifice.

  *

  “So, his f
ather’s been in the States for months. The doctor who’s treating him lives here and the guy didn’t want word getting around to his associates in Russia about how sick he is,” Wrench explains the next day.

  “Why the move on Russian now if he’s been here all this time? I mean, I’m guessing they knew his location since the time he was booked, right?” Royce asks and I don’t miss the look Flint and Wrench exchange. Then it hits me.

  “I lost our baby,” I answer quietly.

  “We don’t know that…” Flint starts before Wrench cuts in.

  “Time-wise, it does fit. We have to consider that, Flint. They may have been thinking about stem cells or some shit like that,” Wrench cuts him off. “Now, Russian’s call with Jasper sounds like he’s working on a way to permanently cut himself free from any future problems. I think we need to continue physical surveillance in addition to me watching the online presence.”

  “I can help,” I say, getting a chorus of ‘No’s’ all around the room. “Come on. Look. I checked and the hotel is hiring, I can apply to be a maid there. I’ll dye my hair and wear some padding.”

  “I kind of have an idea you’re going hate, Flint,” Wrench starts, continuing when Flint sighs. “Look this city is liberal as hell about some things. Panhandlers don’t get hassled by the cops. If Betsy does dye her hair and not wash it, she can sit outside the Starbucks across from the hotel and keep her eyes on them. That frees Royce, Gunner, and Smithy up for other things.”

  “No fucking way,” Gunner growls. “We can’t protect her like that.”

  “I’ll do it,” I say at the same time.

  “I’ve got a panic button, GPS enabled with me,” Wrench continues. “You can hide it on your body, Betsy, and we’ll have your back. You’ll need to memorize the pictures of the doctors and the bodyguards, but, Flint? What do you say?”

  “You have access to all the cameras on that street, correct?” Flint asks rubbing his chin.

  “You’re NOT considering this?!” Gunner roars again. “We know damn well they also have eyes on the street.”

  “We’re wasting time discussing this and resources on keeping Betsy locked down here. Betsy, you’ll keep the panic button on your body and you’ll have a knife strapped on. Mid-morning to early evening you’ll be sitting on the pavement, mumbling to yourself. Anytime you want out, you come back here. No harm, no foul,” Flint says, watching me closely. “Smithy, walk over to that store on the corner and buy the lady some dark hair dye. Betsy starts tomorrow.”

  “I’ll go,” Gunner storms out furiously. I know how he is about Riley, how he lost it when she was taken so I know this isn’t easy for him.

  “Flint, guys, I can handle this. I can handle myself. Russian and Shade have both shown me how to defend myself.” I know this wasn’t an easy choice for Flint and that I won’t be close to the action but I need to do something other than place room service orders and pace the room. More than anything, I crave the sight of Artem.

  The next morning, my hair is dark and I’ve left shampoo in it in places to make it look greasy. I’m wearing a baggy shirt tied at my waist and I put a few rips in my jeans, hoping that’ll do it.

  “Come here,” Gunner says as soon as I emerge from the bathroom.

  Before I know it, he has me biting my nails, trying to make them look ragged. While I’m doing that, he’s strapping a knife to my ankle, shoving brass knuckles in my jean pocket, and next, he turns to me with a small bag of dirt. I cringe, not wanting to acknowledge that I’ll have to spend the day with dirty hands.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Get it under what’s left of your fingernails, then we’ll smear a little on your forehead and neck. You won’t convince anyone if you’re this fucking clean,” he says and I realize how stupid the long shower last night was. “Good thing you have your own room cause you won’t be showering the next few days, Bets.”

  “What else do I need to do?” I ask and he gives me more pointers.

  “They’ll be bringing in whores from time to time, Betsy, you’ve got to be prepared to see that. That many men will want entertainment. You can’t flinch, no dirty looks, nothing. Their watchers on street level will be experienced and will notice. You don’t want any fucking attention.”

  “I know you’re not happy about this…”

  “I think it’s fucking stupid and Flint should have sent your ass back home. The point of being an Ol’ Lady is that we keep what’s ours safe. Russian’s going to lose his shit when he finds out you’re camped on the sidewalk.”

  I open my mouth to speak but he cuts me off, “Don’t fucking try to play me like you did Flint. I know Riley loves me and would want to do the same for me but it wouldn’t piss me off any less. And after I got done spanking and fucking and loving on her, you know who’d I take it out on? Who I wouldn’t want to forgive? My Brothers.”

  At that, he leaves the room and I don’t try to stop him. Tears flood my eyes because I can finally understand his point.

  “Now you understand why we didn’t want you here?” Flint asks quietly from the doorway.

  I nod and follow him from the room without a word. Leaving the hotel, empty coffee cup in hand, I take the route the guys laid out for me. Making it to the Starbucks, I first start out on the corner, begging from people walking by.

  Before eleven in the morning, more than a few men and women, all dressed up for work, tell me how I could get money from them. I’ve been used as a whore before but it hurts to be talked to that way from well-dressed strangers.

  Sitting down outside the door of the coffee shop, I try to look as pathetic as possible. By the end of the third day, I guess the dark brown dye has taken hold cause I finally figured out why Flint wanted me sitting in plain sight of the hotel. I haven’t seen anyone but the doctor come and go. I’m pulling in about a hundred dollars a day but it hits me that the fuckers all know that the Russian’s are using a different entrance.

  Hours before I’m due back, I stand and march back to the hotel we’re staying at. Letting myself into the room I have to myself, I throw open the connecting door and see Wrench jumping up, his hands held high.

  “Flint made me, no one else knew. He wanted you to feel involved, somewhere public that we’d still have a close eye on you.” He keeps talking as I stalk towards him, pulling out the knife that Gunner gave me a few days back. “Jesus, Bets. They have this. He didn’t know for sure, but you were losing it in here, all day with nothing to do.”

  “Tell me what the fuck they’re up to or Amy’s not having any more children,” I snarl at him.

  “Yes. Just calm down with that thing?” he pleads. “Look, Russian found a way to reach out twice. His first question both times was about you. Smithy has a cousin who lives here, we were ahead of you on those job openings they had. She’s in. By tonight we should have live feed from their suites.”

  “Gunner didn’t know, did he?” I ask, doubtful that the big guy’s response was fake.

  “He found out yesterday morning. He’s pretty pissed but we couldn’t have sold you if he didn’t go ape shit…” Wrench continues confessing. An alarm on one of Wrench’s laptops starts beeping. “SHIT!”

  He starts pulling up different feeds and suddenly I get my first view of Artem in over a week. I have no chance to enjoy it as Wrench starts pulling different views online while swearing to himself. “Call Gunner.” He hisses.

  I pick up the phone and call him, placing it on speaker. No more secrets.

  “Betsy, you ok?”

  “Yeah, I figured out I was set up. I’m back at the hotel with Wrench. Russian and his dad were just shuffled into a car off some loading dock. I’m hitting speaker phone now,” I explain.

  “Activate Smithy and Royce,” Wrench starts talking. “They’re not going towards the plane but I don’t know why they’re moving.

  Chapter 16

  Russian

  Another day in this fucking hotel. Another day that I can’t get enough time to convince Kuznetsov
that I want nothing to do with his businesses. Then the tailor returns, giving me an appraising glance – I’m sure he suspects I stole his phone.

  Given no choice but to wear the new suit, I’m soon bustled out the service dock to go for a ride with my father and Vadim.

  “Where we going?” I drawl, stretching out my legs in the back of the limo.

  “Artem, speak correctly. ‘Where are we going?’ is proper English, no?” Kuznetsov looks at me like I’m a child.

  It’s fucking hot in here so I peel off the suit jacket. His eyes narrow when he sees I’m wearing my cut.

  “Remove that,” he demands.

  “Blood in, blood out,” I glare back at him. “I wear it until I die.”

  Kuznetsov nods to Vadim, who quickly pulls out a knife and squats as he moves towards me. I wait and at the last moment, jam my shoe into his nut sack, taking him down. I reach over to grab his knife.

  “You’ll show respect at my…associate’s home,” my father growls.

  “I don’t want to know your associate. I don’t want fuck all to do with your business. Pour your money into that doctor of yours and leave me the hell alone,” I tell him for the umpteenth time, watching Vadim pick himself back up and sit beside my father again. “Give it all to Vadim here.”

  He rolls his eyes and looks out the window like I’m a petulant child. Vadim continues to glare at me and I realize that’s twice this week I got him in the balls. Bet he’s rethinking wanting me dead now.

  Fighting our way through the traffic, we get to his associate’s home and I quickly realize I’m there to pick a bride. Four fucking families have trotted their girls out. Jesus, I’m not even sure they’re all eighteen years old. But the girls do as they were instructed and fawn over me.

  The second time one tries to touch me; I brush her aside. The girl’s father’s head snaps around, “Nyet.” He growls and moves to stand. A wave of Kuznetsov’s hand has him quickly retaking his seat.

  “I’m married, I don’t touch other women,” I explain with a smile.