Carson had never known the mafia to send inexperienced hitmen after a target. There was a definite flow to the training and assignment of jobs within a Bratva or Russian mafia organization. For them to send a complete newbie to do a job meant that there was something very, very wrong with something inside the organization. Carson just needed to know what before it was too late to save Kayla from whatever her uncle had planned.
Chapter Twelve
“Do you think Carson is all right?” Kayla turned around to look behind them for what felt like the millionth time.
Wrath snorted. “He would probably be better if you didn’t keep looking behind you and making your stalker nervous. The more nervous the assassin is, the more likely he is to get paranoid and notice that Carson is following him.”
“Great,” Kayla muttered. “So basically I’m just making things worse.”
She sighed. They were once again standing on Ava’s doorstep in the South End. In daylight, the brownstone was even more attractive than it had been all lit up the night before. A beautiful and likely a well-tended garden sat between the front steps and the sidewalk.
Ava answered the door with a little smile on her face. “Well, I have to say that I certainly did not expect a visit from you two ladies twice in two days. I should buy a lottery ticket or something.”
Like Ava needed a lottery ticket. The woman had plenty of disposable income to burn. Kayla followed Tegan inside the house with Wrath bringing up the rear. It felt odd to be here, considering the topic she wanted to discuss. Of course, it wasn’t like Carson was here to make accusations. Maybe Kayla could just sort of gloss things over and then tell Carson that she’d found out that she was right even though he was sure there was a big conspiracy.
“I’m glad you came back,” Ava said, looking over her shoulder at Kayla. “I need to talk to you about your inheritance. I don’t think Stedman is being honest with you about how things were supposed to work after you came of age.”
Kayla swallowed. Okay, that had come completely out of left field. Kayla swallowed around the huge lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. It was tempting to walk back out, but Wrath wasn’t likely to let her, and she didn’t relish being out there alone when there was a confirmed stalker on her tail.
Fortunately for Kayla, Tegan was an apt busybody. “What are you talking about? Kayla doesn’t have inheritance. That’s why she pays rent to Daddy.”
“Tegan, please be quiet.” Ava gestured to the same sofa they’d shared the night before. “Just sit down and listen. You’ve always had such a hard time believing the bad about your father. I thought you had started to outgrow that, but sometimes I wonder.”
Wrath took up a position behind the sofa where Kayla and Tegan perched. For just a second, Kayla wondered if he was going to take issue with the way Ava spoke to Tegan. It wasn’t that she was rude, but Tegan was obviously hurt by what her mother had said.
Kayla cleared her throat. “Are you talking about all of the real estate property that my parents owned?”
“Your mother’s trust fund, your father’s real estate holdings, all of that was supposed to be held in trust for you until you turned twenty-one,” Ava said quietly.
Kayla stared at her aunt. For just a moment, she could not entirely process what was being suggested. “Who says?”
“Your parents’ wills,” Ava countered. “Stedman fought a very hard battle to get custody of you after your parents died.”
“With who?” Kayla had always known that her uncle fought to have her in his care. She had just never understood whom he had battled against. “Stedman always told me that it was the state. They didn’t want to grant custody because even though the will left him as executor of the estate and my guardian, he had just gotten divorced and hadn’t even been granted custody of Ralston and Tegan.”
“I fought with him,” Ava said quietly. “I did not want any child to grow up in that household.”
“But you don’t even like me!” Kayla said without thinking.
Ava snorted. “Sweetie, I’ve always liked you. I can remember when you were born. You and Tegan were so very close in age. Your mother and I hoped that you would be more like sisters, but that isn’t how Stedman likes things. He wanted adversaries. He used both of you to punish the other. That was what I hated. I never wanted my daughter around you for both your sakes. Do you understand?”
In a twisted sort of dysfunctional way, Kayla really did. Then she zeroed in on the word trust. “My mother didn’t have a trust. It was taken away after she married my father.”
“No.” Ava shook her head. “It was put in trust for you.”
“But I’m twenty-three,” Kayla whispered. “Are you telling me that I should have gotten control of my trust two years ago?”
“Yes.” Ava nodded. “But you left Stedman’s home at eighteen, and he’d tried to make you believe ever since that the actions of a rebellious teenager cost you any further financial assistance.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me about this before now?” Kayla felt her tension rising. She was going to lose her temper, and that wouldn’t help anything.
Ava held up her finger and wagged it side to side. “I’m sorry, young lady, but you don’t get to play that game now. You haven’t welcomed any contact with me for years. I wasn’t about to come to you with this sort of information when you acted as though you didn’t want to look me in the face.”
Kayla’s anger deflated like a balloon, and she was left feeling something else entirely. “Carson was right,” Kayla murmured. She put her hands over her face. “I feel like such a child. So silly, so naive, and so stupid!”
“No.” Ava’s voice was so very gentle. “You wanted to believe the best about a man who raised you, just like Tegan often does. That is normal. Even though you hated some of the things that Stedman did and said, you never wanted to see that he was willfully stealing from you.”
“So what do I do?”
Ava sighed. “I should have spoken up much earlier.” She gazed around at the furnishings of her home. “I probably never would have said anything at all if it wasn’t for this bullshit with the Bratva. I cannot believe that Stedman has dragged us all into this mess.”
“It’s an opportunity,” Tegan said, looking at her mother and then at Kayla. “This is our chance to right as many wrongs as we can and expose that man to the world for who he really is.”
Kayla wanted to agree, but she could not help but wonder what the cost of that exposure would be.
*
Carson didn’t have to have any skills in surveillance or even human behavior to see that Kayla’s stalker did not like the idea of his task taking him anywhere near Ava’s brownstone. The agitated behavior intensified as the kid—and Carson could not think of him as anything but—sat on a park bench about half a block from the row house.
The kid kept shifting from one butt cheek to the other. He would look as though he were going to get up and then he would pull out his phone, look at the screen, and then he would settle back down again. The hood of his sweatshirt slipped back to reveal the pockmarked face of a man in his early twenties. Carson had been right on the money. The kid was young. He was inexperienced. And at the moment, he was Carson’s only chance of getting any real information.
Before he could second-guess the decision, Carson strode over to the bench and sat. He put his arm around the kid and grabbed hold of the hood now lying against the narrow shoulders.
The kid tried to swing around. He tried to get up. He couldn’t do either one. “What the fuck?” he growled. “Let go before I kill you!”
“You’re not going to kill anyone,” Carson said, his voice edged with sarcasm. “In fact, you’re about to piss your pants right now.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Am I?” Carson gestured to the house. “You act like that house is full of ninjas that want to kill you. You’re contemplating how long you have to stay here and how much trouble you’re going t
o be in if you leave before your handler—whoever that is—tells you that you can leave.”
“How do you know all of that?” The kid was now trying to look at Carson. Carson kept the neck of his sweatshirt pulled so tight he had no choice but to look straight ahead.
Carson snorted. “Because that’s what you’re telling me. Every time you move, every time you shift, and every time you stare at that house and then get up like you want to run away, you’re telling me how much you want to leave but can’t.”
“It’s not…” The kid couldn’t even finish his sentence.
“Why did you shoot at us the other night?” Carson demanded. He put more authority in his voice, layered in the bravado and bossiness that had made him capable of leading a platoon of marines.
Now the kid looked just plain shifty.
Carson twisted his hand in the fabric of the sweatshirt and pulled it tighter around the kid’s neck. He wheezed and desperately sucked air. “Tell me!” Carson snarled. “Tell me or you’re of no use, and I’ll leave your dead ass sitting on this bench.”
“I didn’t shoot at you guys!” the kid squeaked. “I didn’t. I swear. It was someone else. Anton sent Vladimir the other night. I’m just supposed to watch, just watch. That’s all!”
Anton. Vladimir. These were useful names. This would give Carson some way to trace the individuals within the Bratva organization who were coming after Stedman and his family. Knowing who might lead to the real reason of why. And at the end of the day, why is what Carson needed to know.
“What are you going to do?” The kid’s voice was getting higher and higher. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Who are you anyway?” Carson wondered out loud. “What Bratva Avoritet sends a boy to do a man’s job?”
“I’m not a boy!” He sounded indignant, and yet the crack in his voice completely ruined his attempt at masculinity. “My name is Vasily.”
“Vasily,” Carson mused. “Are you trying to be a part of the organization? Trying to make your mark or do your time or whatever?”
“Vor v zakone,” Vasily muttered. “I want to earn my way to the top of the thief’s code. Anton is the top guy. He’s the leader.”
“Anton is Sokolov?” Carson had a feeling that wasn’t correct at all. There was something else going on. He could feel it.
Vasily was already shaking his head as best he could with the sweatshirt holding him practically paralyzed. “No. Anton is Sokolov’s second-in-command. He’s the one who runs the operations. He’s the one you want to fear.”
“Is he the one that ordered the hits on Stedman Hyde-Pierson’s family?” Carson pressed. “Is Anton the one who hired assassins?”
“I don’t know.” Vasily held up his hands as though he were fending off a physical attack. “I just know what I was told to do. I don’t know any more than that.”
“Why are you so twitchy about sitting here to watch that house?” Carson prayed the answer would clear things up.
The kid snorted. “Are you kidding? I stick out like a sore thumb in a neighborhood like this! One cop comes by and I get locked up. You think Anton is going to send someone to come get me out? No! He’ll just pay the cops to have me killed in jail.”
Carson inwardly cursed. That wasn’t helpful at all, even though it was a reasonable fear. Carson needed to know where the order to kill Stedman Hyde-Pierson’s family had originated. That would tell him the identity of the mafia member it was that Stedman had tangled with. Until they could find that out, there was nothing to do but discover why Stedman wanted his niece dead. And figure out if Hyde-Pierson had been trying to double-deal with the Bratva by going behind Sokolov’s back and trying to make deals with an underling named Anton.
Chapter Thirteen
There was an awkward kind of silence in Ava’s comfortable living room. Kayla fidgeted with her hands while she tried to decide what her next step should be. It wasn’t like she was a child anymore. She should not need someone to make decisions for her, yet she had no idea how to proceed. Did she need to hire a lawyer? How did one hire a lawyer, by promising to pay them if they won the case? Didn’t that only happen on TV?
There was a knock on the front door. Wrath excused himself with a murmur to go and answer it. Moments later, Carson came striding into the room. Here was one more thing to add to the awkwardness. Kayla knew that Wrath’s little slip about Kayla and Tegan’s little trip to the White Russian had made Carson angry. She just wasn’t exactly sure why and didn’t have the time or opportunity to find out. She offered Carson a small smile when he walked on past her, but he seemed to be ignoring her. Great.
“The stalker and the shooter are two different men.” Carson aimed his snappy announcement at Wrath. “Some guy named Anton is calling the shots. I think we’ve gotten stuck in the middle of some power struggle within the Bratva.”
Ava frowned. Her brow furrowed, and she stood up to gain the attention of the men. “Bratva? What’s the Bratva?”
Wrath didn’t spare her a glance, but he answered in a civil tone. “The Russians call their organization Bratva. It means brotherhood. It’s made up of a Pekhan. He’s like the Godfather character, right? Then he has these brigadiers, like section leaders. They’re called Avoritets. After that, they have soldiers just like any mafia does. There are also spies. The Russians love spies. They spy on each other, and there are plenty of hostile takeovers of the leadership.”
Ava took a seat again, but this time she sat between Kayla and Tegan. She took their hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “So, what you’re saying is that Stedman might have gotten in the middle of that war by trying to back the wrong man.”
Carson raised his eyebrows as though he were surprised at Ava’s astute analysis of the situation. “Exactly.”
“Then it seems like we need to go have a chat with this Anton person and find out what’s going on.” Ava made it sound almost ho-hum.
“Not fucking likely!”
Nash walked into the room from the direction of the kitchen. Kayla spun around to stare. She hadn’t heard a noise, and it didn’t seem as if Wrath or Carson had either. That seemed to suggest Nash had a key to the back door or something. How odd.
Kayla caught her cousin’s eye, but Tegan gave a subtle shake of her head. Apparently, there was more to that story than Tegan wanted to think about. Interesting. Considering the way that Nash was practically glaring down at Ava, there was a lot more going on than just a bodyguard/client kind of relationship.
“Jason, I can make my own decisions,” Ava said primly. She met Nash’s hard gaze with one of her own. “I’m not a child to be ordered about.”
“My job is to protect you, dammit.” The irritation in Nash’s voice was tinged with something more. “I can’t protect you if you go waltzing off into enemy hands.”
Kayla had a thought. “How do we know we’re enemies?”
“What?” Nash turned the force of his gaze on her, and Kayla could not help but squirm. The guy’s gray eyes were unnerving.
“Well,” Kayla began reasonably. “We’ve sort of established that my Uncle Stedman has been lying to pretty much everyone. Now Carson has discovered that there’s a power struggle going on between the top guy and his second or whatever. Maybe if we go to Sokolov himself and try to explain that we would love to help him get rid of Stedman and Anton, he might stop trying to kill us and help us instead.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Carson mused. “Although, I’m still very concerned about the fact that Stedman told Bridge and Jinx that Kayla had to die at the right moment.”
Nash held up one hand. “First things first. We need to get something out of the way.”
Kayla did not miss the significance of the look shared between Wrath and Carson. The two men knew something was up. How come she felt like everyone was hiding all the important stuff?
Nash cleared his throat. “You two are fired.”
“Excuse me?” Tegan leaped off the couch. She put her hands on her hips and face
d down Nash as though he were a recalcitrant toddler. “Don’t you dare fire Wrath—or Carson, sorry. That would be by far the most pigheaded, idiotic move you’ve ever come up with! Don’t you realize that Bridge and Jinx are the liars?”
Nash actually stumbled back a step as though he were trying to remove himself from the line of fire. “Relax, Tegan. It’s a formality.”
Carson chuckled. “Nicely played, Nash. So, you publicly fire us to make sure that Bridge and Jinx think you’ve bought into their story. Does Analise know? Because if she doesn’t, I need to steer clear of her. She’ll castrate us first and ask questions later.”
Kayla was reassured by the fact that Carson did not seem bothered, but the whole thing was confusing as hell. “So, how is this supposed to end?”
“Bridge and Jinx will get overconfident and start feeding Stedman information that they shouldn’t,” Nash explained. “Pretty soon they’ll make a mistake and feed me information in turn.”
Tegan looked tense. “So, you’re trying to trap my father.”
“Honey, your father has been double-dealing with me since day one,” Nash told Tegan.
There was an odd rapport between them all. Nash, Tegan, Wrath, Carson, and even Ava seemed to be in on it. Kayla felt like an outsider. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation, but it wasn’t one she liked either.
Kayla got up from her seat. “I’m going into the kitchen for a drink,” she murmured to her aunt. Ava seemed so preoccupied that she only nodded.
It felt good to put the living room behind her. Kayla got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice and water from the refrigerator dispenser. She stood and stared out the window. It looked like a beautiful day outside. Would her life ever settle down enough for her to enjoy one of those?
CARSON KEPT WAITING for Kayla to return to the room, but she didn’t. Ava, Tegan, Wrath, and Nash were busy arguing over a plan of action. Nobody even noticed when he excused himself.
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