“What about Edik?” For the life of him, he couldn’t remember Edik’s surname.
“You are Edik’s friend?” She seemed pleased. “He is not here tonight but comes in a few nights a week.”
“Do you know where I can find him?”
She shook her head. “He sometimes has to work.”
“Work?” Trace questioned. Edik had a bigger trust fund than Trace did. He always bragged his fortune would keep him entertained for ten lifetimes. So, why would he work? Maybe they were speaking of two different people. “What does he do?”
The beauty bit her lip. “I don’t know.”
Was she nervous? “Do you have his phone number?”
“No. But if you stay here long enough, you’ll find him.”
Trace glanced at Mr. Bank Account, wondering how much time he had left. It didn’t look like very long. The man was already shaking a person’s hand, inching his way over.
“Do you know the Ivankovs?” Trace asked.
Startled, her eyes locked onto his. “Do not speak of them.”
“Why?”
She shook her head, pulling away.
“Don’t go,” Trace said. “I need your help.”
“I can’t help you.” Her hand slipped away and she turned, pausing for a moment. “Do not ask anyone here about them. You will get hurt.” She hurried back and positioned herself next to her paycheck, not daring to make eye contact with Trace any longer.
Well, that was odd. He surveyed the room in a new light. Whoever these people were, they had something to do with the Ivankovs. It was the only reason to warn him away. And if Edik played here, then he might know about Reed Taylor. Somehow they must know each other. He had to find Edik and ask him.
Trace hated solving puzzles. They were tedious headaches.
The cocktail server returned with his ordered drink.
“Thank you,” he said, swirling the drink. He wanted to taste the mind-numbing alcohol, drench every coherent cell in its liquid. But just as he was going to take his first sip, Liam’s scolding voice echoed in his head. “Yes, yes,” Trace muttered to himself, setting the drink down at a nearby table. The cocktail didn’t look all that good anyway. There was a bit of white powder clinging to the glass. The dishwasher must need maintenance, or . . . Trace’s eyes darted around the room. No one was paying attention to him. It was almost as if they didn’t want to make eye contact.
Trace never had much of a sixth sense. Liam always told him if he was ever to reincarnate as a cat, he’d blow through his nine lives before a year was out. Trace always tended to do instead of think, and never in all of his past scrapes did he see the peril beforehand. It wasn’t until after Liam rescued him that he realized his mistakes. But now, something told him to get out of the casino as quickly as possible.
He picked up the glass, pretending to drink. If the drink was drugged like he thought, they’d let him walk away, knowing they could deal with him later.
And Edik hung out here? This wasn’t the company his friend normally chose to keep. And working? Something was wrong here.
Trace took his last pretend sip and placed the glass back down on the table, making his exit. It wasn’t until he turned his back to leave that he felt a tingling sensation prickling the back of his neck. He suspected that if he turned around, he’d find every eye on him.
But there wasn’t enough money in the world to make him turn around. Instead, he walked at an even pace, praying he’d make it to his rental car before anyone realized he hadn’t actually ingested the white powder.
As he exited the casino, the sound of footsteps in a quiet parking lot alerted him that he was not in the clear.
Chapter 14
Morgan was done. Dmitri knew as much as she could teach him without an apprenticeship. His welds were still lumpy, but it wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t putting together show pieces, just coffins.
His prior phone call still bothered her, but he hadn’t said anything and went back to practicing. Maybe Liam was right; maybe it was nothing to panic about just yet. But now that she’d told Dmitri all that she could, what would happen next? She was now useless to him.
Dmitri turned off the welder. “Box will come soon.”
Morgan nodded, peeking at Liam. He discreetly nodded back to her. She had no idea what that was supposed to signal. Maybe he was just acknowledging that he’d heard.
“You wait here. No funny business.” Dmitri walked through the open door, slamming it closed behind him. She heard the metal scrape of the bolt locking both her and Liam inside.
“I’m surprised he didn’t tie me up as well.” Morgan hurried over to Liam, reaching for the rope binding his wrists. “We have to get out of here. I have a feeling the box is for us.”
Liam didn’t say anything, just watched Morgan fumble with the knot.
“What is vory v whatever?”
“It translates to thieves in law,” he said.
Morgan slipped the rope off, freeing Liam. “Is that significant?”
“I’ll explain later,” he said, moving about the shed. “We could use the welder to burn through the hinges.”
“We’d need an extension cord to reach it.” Morgan scanned the shed. Other than the welder, there wasn’t much in the shed they could use. No windows to break. The shed was wooden, so they couldn’t even use the welder on the side to create a hole.
Liam leaned into the door, looking through the small gap. “The bolt is thick.”
“Is there any way to wiggle it open?”
Liam shook the door, but it barely budged. “It seems solid.”
“Can we break it off?”
“I don’t think so. We’d need something to ram it with.”
Morgan inspected Liam, trailing her eyes along his form. He might have enough muscle to break it if he put his shoulder into it.
He propped his hands on his hips. “Your thoughts are coming out loud and clear.”
“We’re running out of time. Unless you have a better idea. . .”
Liam stared at the door as if sizing up an opponent. “This is going to hurt.”
“No worse than a bullet between the eyes.”
He frowned at her. “Move back a little.”
Morgan stepped out of his way. He took a running start, throwing all of his weight at the door. There was a loud crack, but the door remained locked. Liam held his arm, glaring at the door.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“Just a little pain. I’ll be fine.”
“It sounded like the wood cracked. Maybe I could try to break it the rest of the way.”
“No, I can try again.”
“I can do it,” she said, positioning herself.
His hand clamped around her shoulder. “I don’t think you should.”
Morgan flicked off his hand and charged at the door, turning her shoulder into it right before contact. She bounced off the door, not inflicting any damage except to her arm. Her eyes flooded with tears as she gripped her arm and fell to the floor.
Liam knelt beside her. “How badly does it hurt?”
Morgan couldn’t answer, she couldn’t speak. Her words were blocked by the pain.
“Take a few deep breaths,” he said. Liam studied the door. “I don’t think either of us will break it down. Do you see those cross supports? They reinforce the door.”
Morgan couldn’t see anything except the ceiling she focused on to keep the pain at bay. It was no wonder Dmitri didn’t bother tying her up as well. He knew they wouldn’t be able to break out. Now, she wished he would have bound her. She might not have tried such a stupid stunt.
“Feeling any better?” Liam asked, lightly touching her arm.
“It’s throbbing.”
“Can you move it?”
Morgan didn’t want to; she knew it was going to hurt. But she didn’t want to look weak in front of Liam.
Slowly, she tested her arm, lifting it just a fraction.
“How does it feel?”
“Your arm is swelling.” He stripped off his shirt and began tearing it.
“What are you doing?” she squawked, finally thankful for the pain so she could focus on something other than the fact that he was now shirtless. She had been right about his physique. He was indeed toned, but not overly so. Just right.
“I’m making you a sling.” He bit down on a stubborn thread, ripping the material. “You might have a break or fracture. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“What’s the point? We’ll be dead in a few hours anyway.”
“Don’t say that,” he scolded.
Morgan was not usually a pessimist. Normally, she looked at life as an obstacle course that she clawed her way through or died trying. Unfortunately, the dying part was going to happen sooner rather than later. It wasn’t that she was giving up, but she was tired of trying. Tired of always being on edge, watching her back. She was just sad that she took Liam down in the process. He didn’t deserve her fate.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The reason I pushed you away before was because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t want the bratva to know about you.”
He stared at her silently for a moment. “It’s okay. I get it. In fact, I would’ve done the same thing.”
“Yes, but I could’ve been more pleasant about it. I was harsh, and that’s not normally who I am.”
“I judge a person by how they treat their employees and coworkers. I saw how you interact with them and they with you. Don’t judge yourself by our first meeting. I wasn’t on my best behavior.” He tore another strip and then looked at her. “That’s not normally how I react either. We got off on the wrong foot. There’s nothing more to be said.”
“Then, how about thank you,” Morgan said, feeling a surge of warmth for Liam. “You didn’t have to help and yet you did. I know it was for your friend, Reed, but I’m grateful you are here with me.”
“The reason I came to your office had everything to do with Reed. But the reason I’m here with you has nothing to do with him.” Liam bent down and tucked his hands underneath Morgan’s arms. “Keep your arm secure. I’m going to lift you so I can tie the sling around.”
Morgan bit back a yelp of pain as he lifted her to her feet and then brought her to the stool. She sat down, thankful for the support. Liam proceeded to wrap the material around her. She wanted him to explain what he had meant. If he wasn’t here for Reed, who was he here for? Certainly it couldn’t be for her. Could it?
As he knelt in front of her, tying and adjusting the makeshift sling, his face only inches from hers, she fell silent, soaking in this other side of Liam that was becoming harder and harder to ignore. And if she was honest, she didn’t want to ignore it.
Morgan cleared her throat. “Tell me about the thieves in law.”
“Let me start at the beginning. Sonya was an exchange student at my school.”
“You know her?”
When he tied the last knot, he nodded and sat against the wall next to Morgan. “Reed and I became friends with her, and I wanted to know about her culture. I read everything I could about the Russian culture, history, language, anything I could find.”
“You liked her.” No one would go out of their way to learn so much if they didn’t like the person.
“We dated for a while.”
Morgan nearly choked. “You dated? And yet we’re stuck in her shed waiting to die. What in the hell did you do?” If Morgan had two good arms, she would have strangled him. No wonder he came here. It had nothing to do with Reed or her. It had everything to do with Sonya. “If you’re trying to get back together with her, I think you’re out of luck.”
“Let me finish.”
She scowled. “Fine.”
“As I was researching, I stumbled across the thieves in law. They are bound together by a code they learn in prison from other thieves in law. It’s a tight group that you can’t access with only one prison sentence. You have to be a career criminal with several sentences backing you. Tattoos they get in prison tell of their criminal history and what kind of ranking they have in the thieves in law.”
“And Dmitri has these tattoos?”
“From the few that I saw, he ranks high. He is a career criminal who would kill without hesitation, even if only defending his honor for a few barbed remarks. Defending your honor is still a big deal in Russia. You cannot turn your back on it.”
“How does this relate to Sonya?”
“She’s an Ivankov. As I was researching, I came across the name over and over again. Her dad was notorious. Ivankov might not have been a thief in law, but he hired many. He used their skills and status to help him. His crimes were being carried out in Russia while he lived comfortably in the U.S.”
“And so you ended the relationship with Sonya.”
“Would you want a Russian godfather as a father-in-law?” He shook his head. “I tried to end the relationship as nicely as I could. She stated she had nothing to do with her father, that she was going to join the FBI so she could eventually expose him.”
“Did you believe her?”
He nodded. “Yes, but it wasn’t worth the risk. I was just a kid heading off to college.”
“And then what happened?”
“Reed always had a soft spot for Sonya. I imagine he joined the FBI with Sonya to stay close. I’m not exactly sure how it all happened, but they must have been partners at one point. Reed ended up killing her father in a shootout, and she abandoned the FBI, taking Reed down in the process.”
“And now you’re stuck in the middle of the war.”
He sat silently for a moment before saying, “Do you know the saddest part of it all? Many of these career criminals started off as nothing but hungry kids, stealing a few heads of cabbages. They were sent to prison where a hundred men sit in a cell together, sleeping in shifts because there aren’t enough beds, half starving, with a good likelihood of never coming out of the zone alive. How could a child survive that?”
Morgan shook her head.
“The ones that make it to the other side . . .” Liam stood, crossing his arms.
“Do you think that happened to Dmitri?”
“He had four domes on his cathedral tattoo, so he’s had four prison sentences. Given that he’s in his mid-forties, it’s very likely he was a child.”
Morgan wished she didn’t know that. It made her feel sorry for Dmitri. How horrendous was the zone that a person would go in as a hungry child and come out a monster?
“You look worried. I shouldn’t have told you,” Liam said.
“No. I’m glad you told me. Being ignorant can sometimes be a blessing, but not now.”
“How is your arm?”
Morgan had nearly forgotten about the pain as she listened to Liam, but it was still there. “It’s a dull, throbbing pain. Nothing to worry about.”
“Let’s hope it’s nothing more than a bruise.”
“Now what?” she asked. “Do we just sit here and wait?”
“Do you have a better plan?”
“No, I just don’t like waiting for the unknown. What if they don’t stop with us? What if they go after my family?”
Liam sat down next to her and took her hand, squeezing it. “Don’t worry about what you can’t control. We’ll stay alert and find a way out of this.”
“What about your family? Will they be safe?”
“I have no family.”
Morgan frowned. “What about Trace?”
Liam smiled briefly. “He’s temporary. Once he has his trust fund, I’ll never hear from him again.”
“Is that why you hold on to it?”
“Maybe one of the reasons. I’m just afraid he’ll squander his life and funds and be left with nothing but a chip on his shoulder.”
“What about your parents?”
He started to pull away, but Morgan g
ripped his hand. His eyes locked with hers. “My mother left when I was four. My dad wanted nothing to do with me and shipped me off to boarding school. I haven’t seen him since I took over Trace’s funds.”
Morgan let go of his hand, sensing he needed space. But he stayed where he was, his hand still resting against hers. Perhaps he didn’t need space at all. Perhaps he needed something more. In that instant, she was drawn to him more than she had ever been to any one person. It wasn’t that she felt sorry for him; she had a feeling he was probably better off without his parents than with. But she felt a connection that had nothing to do with circumstances and everything to do with the man sitting next to her.
With only a slight hesitation, she leaned over and hugged him. It was awkward using only one arm, and she felt his body stiffen as if wanting to pull away, which made it even more awkward. And that he wasn’t hugging her back, well, that was just embarrassing.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice tentative as if she were going to sprout horns and a forked tongue.
“I’m hugging you. Well, I’m trying to. It’s a bit tricky with one arm in a sling.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s between us and wrapped in your shirt.” Heavens, she was hugging a shirtless man that she barely knew.
“Not your arm. Why are you hugging me?”
So many questions about one simple hug, and yet she couldn’t pull herself away.
“Because I felt like it.” With his cheek next to hers, she could feel a smile form.
“Because you felt like it?” he questioned, his arms now circling her.
With his arms around her, she suddenly realized that hugging him had been a bad idea. She felt the tingling sensation of a dormant body now reawakening with his simple touch.
It wasn’t that she’d never been with a man before, nor did she shun relationships. Whether it was conscious or unconscious, she had just stopped dating. Morgan knew her priorities, and having a night out was not one of them, especially not after a hard day at work. Now, whatever feelings or emotions she had suppressed were charging to the surface. His touch did that.
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