by Vi Carter
His words are like a slap in the face.
“You must have had a very cushy life. It’s fine for people like you that lost nothing.”
Lucca takes a step towards me. “I have lost plenty, Evie. But my loss won’t make me see yours any differently than what it is.”
“What is your loss?” I’m clenching my fists with frustration. I’m trying to find a connection with him.
He is reacting to anything only with indifference and calm.
“You’re full of lies.” I spit.
His head tilts, and the warning is there to be very careful.
I swallow my anger and close my eyes while nodding my head.
“I grew up in a camp from the age of six.”
I open my eyes, and my heart sinks. Six. Too young. “I’m so sorry.” I don’t hold back my horror at the thoughts of a young Lucca in some camp.
“Most of the boys there were also stolen.”
I sink back onto the bed. “You were stolen, too.”
His indifference makes sense now. He doesn’t want to feel.
He moves for the first time. “No. I volunteered. ”I’m not like you, Evie. I wasn’t stolen or taken. I was there because that’s where I wanted to be. I enjoyed the training and being the best. I watched plenty of boys die for their weakness. It is what it is.”
I couldn’t believe that. I couldn’t believe that someone could be that cold about a life.
“And your sister, Anita? Was she raised at this camp?”
Lucca runs his hands through his hair again. “No. It was only for boys. She was with my parents.”
“They didn’t mind you going to a training camp?”
“No.” His answer is abrupt. “Did you really think that by allowing me to fuck your ass that I would do as you wish?”
The grin that graces his stunning face is cold and chills me to the bone.
“You don’t have to be so crude.”
His laughter is like hailstones against my flesh. I just want him to stop.
“You think that’s crude? They really sheltered you. You're naïve to the point that it’s dangerous.”
I stand up. “I kissed you so you might help me,” I admit.
His grin turns into a snarl.
“But then you touched me, and my intentions became something very different. I wanted you to touch me. So, I didn’t allow you to have me.” I refused to repeat his words. “Just to get you to do my bidding. I just hoped by telling you what happened to me that you would see me as a human and not a thing.”
My honesty has the grin slipping from his face. “I do see you, Evie. But it changes nothing.”
For the first time, I detect a lie. It’s small, but it’s there. He does see me as something more than a job, and that will change everything.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUCCA
I don’t run. I want to, and I don’t understand fully what that means for me. So I keep my feet planted. I’ve come up against some of the most dangerous men in the Bratva. I’ve been in deadly situations since I was a kid. So, I wasn’t going to let this tiny woman have me running with my tail between my legs.
I want her to see the logic in what she is asking, but I don’t want to address it, either.
Her wet hair hangs down her back, and her blue eyes are so bright that I want to promise her the stars, the moon, and the sun. The bastards stole her as a child.
I run both my hands through my hair like I can push that image out of my mind, what she must have witnessed. Yet, she looked so innocent, like she’d never seen a violent act.
“Does your sister have kids?” She asks, and a part of me admires her perseverance while another wants her to shut up.
“No.” I keep it to one-word answers as best I can.
“If it were my daughter…” Her gaze waters over again. “I’d never stop looking for her, Lucca.” My name is a tug to my heart that I refuse to allow her to see.
“If it were my daughter, I’d never stop. My dad will never stop. Eight years.”
“I think Igor needs to know how traitorous you really are.”
My words have the desired effect on her, and she pales, yet I don’t feel the level of satisfaction I should.
“You really think that I care.”
Tears fall from her stunning eyes.
“You really think I’d give up everything I have because I’m attracted to you.”
“No, Lucca. I thought you might help because you’re human.”
She wipes tears away.
“Everyone is human, Evie. The ones that took you, the ones that sold girls, the ones who even raped and abused them.”
She flinches.
“I can’t help you.”
She covers her mouth like she can keep in her pain, but I watch it spill down her face, and I have the urge to run from the room, but I don’t.
“I will find your sisters.” I just hope they are alive.
“And hand them back to Igor.” The sound of her snarl makes it easier to grin.
“Of course.” This time I leave the room knowing I’m leaving a mark on her and that she should stop asking me to care.
Anita is outside the bedroom door with one hand on her hip. Before she even considers going off on one of her rants, I grip her arm and steer her toward the stairs.
“Does this have anything to do with Nicolai?”
Nicolai was the Collector. He collected people and dropped them off to the bosses. Most didn’t want to be collected; most were never seen again. I had helped Nicolai out a few months back. He had fallen for one of the boss’s daughters, and I wasn’t sure he survived the exchange. To hear he was alive was a relief. We had spent time in prison together, and when you survive a Russian prison, you never forget.
“Why would you ask about Nicolai?” I ask Anita once we clear the final step.
She pulls away from my touch and spins to face me. She’s pissed.
“Nicolai rang looking for you. Are you involved in human trafficking? I can handle a lot of shit, Lucca. But not that.”
My sister's head is moving from side to side; I know better than to dismiss her.
“That’s not what I do. Nor does Nicolai.”
My sister calms. “But that girl up there was...?” She raises both eyebrows as she waits for an answer.
“You’re my sister, Anita. And I love you. But keep away from Evie.”
I’m ready to end this conversation, but Anita isn’t.
“Like you kept away? It didn’t sound like that when I passed your room earlier.”
“What I do in my home is my business.” I remind Anita.
Anita’s ready to argue back.
“You know this world. She’ll be gone soon.”
Anita huffs and walks away.
Closing my office door, I ring Nicolai.
“You survived Mila’s father?” I ask.
“I barely survived, Mila. She had to shoot me.”
I laugh at the image of Nicolai being shot by a small female. “Had to? Or was she just sick of you?”
“Her father made her shoot me, or he would. A story for another day, brother.”
Nicolai’s tone grows serious, and I’m ready to hear what he rang me about. We didn’t contact each other unless we needed help. I was knee-deep in all this with Evie, but I’d still help Nicolai.
“I heard that you got an investigation job.” Nicolai starts.
“You have information that can help, brother?” I ask back.
We weren’t blood-related, but after all we had been through together, he was more a brother to me than if the same blood pumped through our veins.
“The Torpedo was spotted at a ball for auctioning off virgins. Most of the buyers were from Saudi Arabia, and we know how they like to spend their money. I heard of a lot of movement from oil giants coming here but brushed it off until I heard you were on the hunt for a group of girls.”
I’ve been so focused on other aspects of this that I hadn’t asked
about anything else. I’m pissed I didn’t hear about the oil giants’ movements, especially ones from Saudi Arabia. Along with the ball, these are things I should have been looking for.
“This isn’t your territory, brother, but I have men keeping their ears to the ground who will inform me of any more movement. you are in luck, that's why I was ringing. I thought reports of women being held in a warehouse would interest you.”
“Thanks, brother, I owe you.”
“I’ll send you the address.” Nicolai finishes.
Now that I was close to finishing this job, I was also closer to handing Evie back.
Silence drags out along the other line of the phone.
“You need me to do something, you know all you have to do is ask,” I say.
“Actually, I do.”
I wait to hear what he needs me for.
“I’m getting married and need a best man.”
I sit back in the chair and grin. “Who is she?” I ask.
“Mila.”
“I’ll be there.”
More silence, and I know Nicolai isn’t finished.
“So will a lot of the Bratva. Like the Torpedo.”
“Don’t have him as a groomsman. He might not be able to make it.” If it came to a head-on situation with the Torpedo and he didn’t give in, it would be a fight to the death, and I had no intentions of losing.
“Just think about my wedding before you kill him.”
I half-laugh before I grow serious again. “I’ll keep that in mind. Give my congrats to Mila.”
“I will. If I hear anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, brother.” I end the call, and my phone beeps in my pocket.
Taking it out, I read the address of where the warehouse is. It is only twenty to thirty minutes away. I gather all I need, my throwing knives and two guns, and make sure they are ready and loaded before I go upstairs.
Evie is still in my bedroom. She quickly closes my wardrobe door like she wasn’t snooping. I don’t say anything, and when she faces me, she raises a brow. It’s an expression that’s very sexy on her.
The thought of having her again has me softening my tone before I start to speak.
“I got a call from a friend. I might know where the girls are.”
Her mouth opens slightly, and she takes a step towards me. “Really? Are they alive? Did he say what condition they were in?”
I hold up my hand to stop the next question that’s ready to fly from her lips.
“I don’t know, Evie. All I have is an address.”
“I’m coming.” She’s looking around the floor until she spots her shoes.
“No, you’re not.”
She slips them on, much to my irritation.
“I can calm the girls down when we find them. I’m sure they are terrified.”
“I can manage, Evie.”
She finishes putting on her shoes. “Please, Lucca. Let me be there for my sisters. If I can’t do anything else, at least let me do this.”
“I said, no.” My words are final. I won’t allow her to come. I have no idea what I am walking into, and I most certainly wasn’t putting her in danger.
“Leah: she’s fragile.”
I nod at Evie, hating the look of defeat on her face, but I need to leave now.
Anita is in the hallway when I come downstairs.
“Why is there so much security everywhere? Is it because of Evie?”
“No. It’s just a precaution.” I tell Anita as I take my suit jacket off the rack.
As I slip it on, Anita slams a hand on her hip. “A precaution from what?”
“From people.”
She rolls her eyes. “Always so vague.”
I press a kiss to my sister’s cheek, and she relaxes immediately. “You have nothing to worry about. You're safe.”
Thirty security men may have been overkill, but with my sister and Evie in the same house, I wasn’t risking them for a second.
“I won’t be long.”
Anita doesn’t ask me any more questions, and I leave and make my way to the warehouse.
It takes me twenty-five minutes, and when I pull up at the abandoned location, I sit for a moment and take in the surroundings. Checking street corners for cameras and the foot traffic to gauge how many people might have seen something. So far, I don’t see any cameras, and there is only one shop that appears open, but it’s hard to tell with the painted front window. No one passes along the block, and I get out of the car.
The alleyway is filled with rubbish and junk, but there is a clear path for a vehicle to drive down. Once I reach the end of the alleyway, a chain-link fence runs across most of the front area of the warehouse; a small gap at the end is how I enter. The red brick building is old, and I look up at the three floors but don’t see any movement. Crows land on the rooftop, caw, and fly off. That’s the only sign of life so far.
Steps lead up to a large solid door, and I climb them, but the door doesn’t budge.
I return to the yard. A large roller door at the far end of the building is slightly open. A plastic barrel is keeping it up; regardless of whether it was left there intentionally or lodged by mistake, I dip down and look in. The space isn’t dark; plenty of light from yellow-tinted windows pours into the enormous space. I roll under the door and stand up with a gun in hand. I listen before I start to move. Barrels are stacked everywhere, and I move carefully around them. Another large chain-link fence has been set up in the center of the warehouse, the large square is coated in black sacks, but some of them have ripped away, which allows me to see several dirty mattresses on the ground.
The girls must have been here, but they aren’t anymore.
A chain that keeps the fence together lies on the ground. I move through the small gap. The black sacks on either side rustle as I step into the space. I count six mattresses, and at each, a set of chains. Old food sits at the end of the beds.
Blood on one set of chains has me thinking of Evie, imagining her chained here and forced to lie on a dirty mattress. I leave the small pit and look around the rest of the ground floor of the warehouse.
I slip my gun back into the band of my trousers and get ready to leave when five men step out from behind the rows of barrels blocking me from leaving.
They circle me, and I glance at each of them and take in their positions just like I was trained to do. I only needed to keep one alive. The rest could die.
I raise my hands slowly and bring them to the back of my neck, where two of my throwing blades are positioned. The five men hold their swords at the ready as I dip down like I’m ready to surrender and fall to my knees.
I take the knives in my hands and let them fly from both sides of me. They hit their targets perfectly. The General would have been proud. The other three charge, and I remove two more from their pouches in the band of my trousers. I’m running sideways away from them, and when I reach the barrels, turn and launch one at the first man. It embeds itself in the man’s forehead, taking him down. The two other men have to dance across him, and it gives me a moment to pull out my gun.
I dodge a sword that cracks into the barrel and dance away while releasing my knife that embeds itself into the man’s arm. It slows him down but doesn’t stop him and the last man from charging.
Something catches my leg, and I hit the ground hard, roll as the blade sparks across the ground. Once I stop rolling, I fire two shots into the man’s face.
The last man disappears behind the barrels. He’s one I need alive. I stand up to see it’s a bundle of ropes I tripped across.
“If you give me some answers, I’ll let you live,” I say while holding my gun and watching for him to rise from the barrels.
Silence screams back at me, and I turn in time to see him. He charges me with his raised sword. I bend, but it slices into my cheek, and I empty the gun into his face while moving away.
My face is on fire, and I curse him as I remove my jacket and press it to my cheek to slow
down the bleeding.
Every man was dead. I had no one to question. I move around the bodies and gather up my throwing knives while checking them for ID, tattoos, or anything that could identify them, but I find nothing on any of the bodies.
Once outside, I take the jacket away from my face, and the wind sends more pain slicing across my cheek. Blood still oozes from the wound, but I don’t think it’s at a dangerous level.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I consider ringing Nicolai. He would come, but he wasn’t the man for the job. I had grown up with Nevs at Camp, and he had become a very famous tracker. He didn’t work for anyone in particular, but if the price was right, he would do the job.
I dial his number.
Heavy breathing on the phone makes me think I’ve rung the wrong number until I hear his deep voice.
“I’m in the middle of something.” He sounds like he’s jogging. “What do you want?”
The fact he answered makes me continue.
“I have an urgent job I need you for.”
“Message me the details and price, and I’ll let you know.” He hangs up, and I pocket my phone.
My face aches as I make my way back down the alleyway. Boxes move, and I withdraw my gun, my finger on the trigger. A dirty face that has gray, old eyes staring out at me has me putting the gun away.
“You live here?” I ask the guy while pressing my jacket against my face again.
His weary eyes are focused on the band of my trousers where my gun disappeared. “Sure do.”
I take the jacket away from my face and wince.
“Did you see anything lately?” I point at the warehouse. “Anyone at the warehouse?”
He nods but doesn’t answer—his gaze darts to my pockets. I take out my wallet and get two fifties out.
He snatches them from my fingers. His hands are covered in gloves that I am sure would stand on their own with the dirt on them.
“A white van left there only minutes before you arrived. They had loaded a group of girls into the back. They sure were beauties.”
“You get the license plate number?”
His gaze darts to my pocket again.