by Shanna Bell
A scream, and then blood splattered on the dirty linoleum floor.
“Fuck! You broke my nose again!”
“That’s only the beginning, you sack of horseshit. The girl, where is she?”
“I don’t know what—”
Hector squeezed off his breath. “Don’t. Nowhere in the history of mankind has anyone believed anyone when they said, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’”
The fucker licked his dry lips. “I can’t tell you. You don’t know who you’re dealing with. He’ll kill me.”
“And what exactly did you think I was going to do to you? Braid your fucking hair?”
Hector took out his knife, pushed Ivan’s left hand onto the ground, and cut off his pinkie.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Ivan’s eyes went crazy. “Stop it! Shit, shit, shit.”
“Every time I ask you something and I’m not happy with your answer, a piece of you will go missing. Now, let’s try this again. Where is Zoe?”
In the end, he had to cut off another finger—he opted for the thumb—before Ivan gave him a name.
“Pachenkov! I sold her to Yuri Pachenkov! One of Kristoff’s men.”
It was like a sucker punch to his sternum. “You sure about that? If you’re lying again this time, I’m going for your nuts.”
“I swear! I owed him. A lot. You don’t want to owe Pachenkov or Kristoff. I was doing fine paying him every week, but then that Britney bitch died, and I didn’t have a cunt to sell anymore. I figured her sister owed me, you know.”
Kristoff.
A man he had compartmentalized in his brain up until today. Separating the brother he loathed from the crime boss. A man he had believed didn’t trade in women and children. Guess he’d been wrong.
Ivan was sniffling, clutching his mutilated hand. “I told you everything I know. Pachenkov is untouchable. A hit on him is a hit on the Bratva. Kristoff owns this city. He will bury you and anyone you care about.” His eyes darted around the room, as if someone might over hear him. “You’re gonna get me killed. If Pachenkov finds out I ratted him out, he’ll tell Kristoff, and that Siberian will give me to his enforcers. Those crazy twins will feed me to snakes. Fucking snakes!”
Hector sighed. The stories about the twins got worse every time. Rumor had it they fed people to a pit of anacondas, fed them to an alligator. Maybe even to a gorilla. One would almost think Kristoff was running a fucking zoo.
It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter who he had to get through to get Zoe back. Fate had these weird twists sometimes.
Maybe this day of reckoning had long been coming. ’Cause brother or not, if Kristoff had anything to do with Zoe’s kidnapping, Hector would take him out.
CHAPTER 16
HECTOR
Their next stop was Kristoff’s lavish mansion. The uncrowned king of San Francisco lived at the edge of North Bay, without any close neighbors in sight. Not that any sane person would want to live next door to a kingpin.
When Hector stopped in front of the iron gates, he could no longer ignore Achilles’ sideways glances.
“What?”
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I mean. You’re going up against fucking Kristoff Romanov. Yeah, the man showed up to your wedding, but that doesn’t mean shit. Especially not since you don’t acknowledge him as your brother. Don’t you think it’s smarter to call Gio? He knows the guy; they play poker together, for fuck’s sake. He can parley with Kristoff without this turning into a bloodbath.”
Hector lowered his window and pressed the intercom button. “I’m not waiting until Gio’s here. Zoe could be gone by that time. Also, this is my family. My business. You can leave if you want.”
Achilles snorted. “You know I’m not gonna let you go in there alone. Just saying, for the record, there’s a smarter way to do this.”
Smarter, perhaps. But the swirling rage inside him didn’t want smart. It wanted blood. It wanted someone to pay for the grief on Mary’s face.
“Duly noted.”
“If we get killed, I’m gonna say I told you so.”
“Of course you are.”
A lone figure walked up to them. Hector recognized him as Angel, Kristoff’s right-hand man. One of the crazy twins. According to rumor, when Angel’s twin Damon got a scar on his left shoulder, Angel had cut himself on the exact same spot.
“I’m here to see Kristoff.”
“Are you now,” Angel said, peeking through the window. “See, it’s a Monday afternoon, and this is Kristoff’s friends and family time. Which exactly are you?”
Hector hated the smug motherfucker. Kristoff’s honorary brother; one of the men Kristoff had preferred over his own blood.
The asshole tried to get a rise out of him and any other day, he’d have gladly gone a round with him, but not today. Time was of the essence and if that meant having to swallow his pride, he’d do it.
“Tell him it’s his brother. I need to see him, now.”
Angel cocked a brow, obviously surprised that Hector—for the first time ever—acknowledged his relationship to Kristoff. He said something in his earpiece and the gate opened.
Hector parked close to the veranda. He spotted several men in and around the perimeter.
“Three on your six,” Achilles said.
“At least a dozen around the house.”
Oddly, they weren’t approached by any of them. There was one guy waiting for them on the front porch. Track pants, red sneakers, black wife beater, and a face similar to Angel.
Damon held out his hand. “Your piece.”
“I don’t think so.” A Marine, former or not, never voluntarily gave up his gun.
Within a heartbeat, they were surrounded by six men, holding them at gunpoint.
“Now, let’s talk about this,” Achilles said.
“You have me confused with my brother,” Damon said, his eyes narrowed on Hector. “I’m not much of a talker.”
“Let him keep his piece,” Angel said, who had caught up to them. “Let’s see if he can restrain himself in front of Kristoff.”
“Could be interesting,” Damon eventually conceded. The pointed guns around them disappeared.
“I put ten on the boss.”
“You still owe me for guessing that stripper was a natural blonde.”
Angel scowled. “You cheated. You hadn’t told me you’d already seen her pussy.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Hector sighed. “Jesus.”
Damon shook his head. “Follow me.” He led them into what appeared to be a state of the art gym. Kristoff was punching a bag in a corner.
Achilles gave him a pointed look.
So, they both liked to punch stuff. That didn’t mean shit.
When Kristoff heard them arrive, he turned around.
“Bratan,” he greeted him.
“Don’t call me that,” Hector snarled. “You don’t get to call me brother. Ever.” He had to remind himself that he didn’t come here for himself. His issues could wait, stay buried where they belonged.
Kristoff’s eyes narrowed. “Let me guess, my sister-in-law asked you to come over and you caved?”
Hector walked over to him, very aware of the twins following him, ready to pounce on him the second he became a threat.
Damon helped Kristoff take off his gloves.
“I’m here for your guy Pachenkov. I need you to tell me where he is. He’s got something that belongs to me.”
“First, that suka is not “my guy.” Never has been. In fact, I believe he’s plotting to take me out to prove the world that he’s his own guy. Second, what could he possibly have that’s yours? I didn’t take you for someone that walks in the same circles as that human garbage can.” He sounded utterly bored.
Figures. The last time Hector had asked Kristoff for help, he hadn’t given a damn either. But this time, Hector wasn’t a teenager anymore.
He wouldn’t back down.
“That cockroach kidnapped my kid. In your name, I might add. After I get her back, I’m gonna pull out his testicles through his nose, and you’re not gonna stand in my way.”
Kristoff’s head snapped up. “We don’t kidnap children.”
“That’s not the word on the streets.” He relayed what had happened and finally saw a spark of fire in Kristoff’s eyes.
His brother turned to Damon. “Find him.”
“Sounds like Pachenkov is a thorn to your side. Why did you let him get this far?”
Kristoff took a towel to wipe his face. “Even thorns have their use. Especially when you have another one. In this case, Pachenkov’s rival, Irish Brian. As long as two dogs fight over a bone, they keep busy. Checks and balances, bratan. It’s all about checks and balances.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“And what will you do if I keep doing it? Shoot me?”
“I just might,” he grumbled, his hand itching.
“Then don’t let me stop you.” Kristoff chin-jerked to the boxing ring. “Or why don’t we go a round in there?”
That’s when Achilles stepped in. Literally, by pushing his large frame between them. “How about you two save this for another date? You know, after we find the girl.”
“Why?” Angel asked. “I’d pay money to see that. Fifty says Kristoff will wipe the floor with Army Boy.”
Achilles shot him a glare. “First of all, he’s not ‘Army Boy’ but a former Marine. Totally different branch of the military, look it up. And I don’t give a shit if your boss is head of the Bratva or not. There’s no way Kristoff—biggest, baddest, and meanest fucker or not—can beat a former Marine in Hector’s class.”
“Biggest, baddest, and meanest fucker,” Kristoff repeated. “I like that. Note it down for on my grave, Angel.”
He didn’t sound as if he was joking, and Hector wondered how cracked in the head his brother really was.
Damon walked back in. “Found him. He’s holed up in a warehouse at the docks. Lots of security around to just be guarding fish.”
“Give me the address.” Hector took out his phone. It looked like he was going to need backup. “We can take it from here.”
He’d barely spoken the words when a small army joined the gym. Most of them were carrying guns, varying from Glocks to semi-automatics. He’d seen small countries get overthrown with less firepower.
“Oh, fuck no.” Achilles raked his hand through his hair.
Kristoff’s lips turned up in a feral smile. “You didn’t think I was going to let you go alone, did you?”
“You may be called a wolf,” Angel said, strapping on a gun to his ankle. “But Kristoff is a lion. Of course we’ll go with.”
Achilles snorted. “About that, wolves might not be the strongest of wild animals, but unlike a lion, you’ll never see a wolf play in the circus.”
Kristoff frowned. “The blond Rock is right. Don’t compare me to a lion again.”
“A dragon then?” Angel suggested. “You don’t see one of those in a circus.”
Were they for real? Hector barely contained a growl. “Can we fucking focus?”
Kristoff threw him a Glock and he grabbed it in the air.
“Let’s go hunt my thorn.”
The warehouse was at the mostly abandoned end of the docks. They arrived at twilight with three vans filled with over two dozen men.
To Hector’s surprise, Kristoff really had come along. Apparently, the rumors about him were true; he did join his men in big operations, instead of just sending his enforcers.
Damon made some gestures and Kristoff’s men spread out, seamlessly disappearing into the dark.
Then, all hell broke loose.
In the end, it could barely be called a fight. It was more a massacre. They descended on the warehouse like a plague, scorching the earth with blood, leaving a trail of destruction behind.
It didn’t take long for them to burst inside the warehouse. Hector was immediately hit with the smell of fish. There were rows and rows of fish containers that led to a path inside.
The heavy odor intensified as they neared the hall and came across three men standing in the middle of it.
He didn’t bother to tell them to drop their weapons. Their eyes were fixed on the firepower behind him. He wasn’t sure which of the three was Pachenkov. It could be any of the three slick motherfuckers, but his bet was on the one with the pooch and balding hair.
“What? Fish got your tongue?” Kristoff asked.
“Kristoff, you son of a bitch,” Pachenkov spat.
It was the one with the beer belly.
“Actually it’s ‘son of a whore.’ My matushka was a hard-working lady of the night, not a bitch. I should cut out your tongue for that insult.”
“Sorry, shit, I mean... I meant no disrespect, Kristoff. So, what brings you here?” Pachenkov asked, an uneasy smile on his face.
Hector shook his head. The dumb fuck actually thought he could talk his way out of this.
“I’ve come to buy fish. I heard you have the best in town.”
“What kind of fish?” Pachenkov stammered.
“Take an educated guess. Hint; it’s not canned tuna.”
“Not a shark either,” Damon said darkly. “We already have one of those.”
“We’re looking for a little mermaid,” Angel chimed in.
Sick and tired of their fish talk, Hector grabbed Pachenkov by the throat.
“Where’s Zoe?” He pulled out his knife and held it to the sweating man’s eye. “I’m gonna scoop your eyeballs out, if you don’t start talking right the fuck now.”
Pachenkov gulped and pointed at a door partly hidden behind a few barrels.
He let the man go and together with Damon, they moved the barrels. He opened the door and found the room shrouded in darkness.
His hand went to the wall, trying to find the light switch.
“Zoe?” He wasn’t sure what he would find inside. He prayed it wouldn’t be the little girl’s body. “Zoe, it’s Hector.”
He heard a sniff, then a small voice. “Wolfman?”
He finally found the light switch. Huddled up in a corner were four children, ages ranging from six—Zoe’s age—to maybe twelve.
When Zoe saw him, she got up on her tiny legs and launched herself at him. He dropped to his knees just in time to take her in his arms.
Her shoulders shook as she cried into his shirt. He looked at the other kids. The fear in their eyes made him want to skin Pachenkov alive.
“We’re gonna get you out of here,” he tried to reassure them.
Zoe looked up from under teared eyelashes. “Are you taking me home?”
“Yes, baby girl, I’m taking you home.”
“I want Mary,” she sobbed.
He placed a kiss on top of her head.
So do I, little one, so do I.
CHAPTER 17
MARY
Waiting for Hector to show up with Zoe was torture. Mary paced a hole in the carpet, her eyes focused on the front door, trying to will Zoe and Hector to appear through it.
“Can I get you anything?” Jazzy asked.
She shook her head. No, she didn’t want anything. Anything she’d eat would taste like ash anyway. Hector would find Zoe, she had total faith in him. It was the aftermath that worried her. Zoe had been gone for less than twenty-four hours, but damage didn’t need hours for it to happen. It could happen in the blink of an eye. One wrong touch, one wrong look, and she could be scarred for life.
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
When Tess had told them who’d abducted Zoe, it had taken her a second to recall who Ivan was. Then she remembered, and her fear for Zoe increased tenfold.
“They are going to find her, and then that beautiful little girl is going to find a home with you. I know it. Gio and Jackson are working on that part, you have to keep faith.”
Tired of pacing, Mary plopped onto
the couch. “I feel so useless.”
“I know. But there’s really not much else we can do. So just try to concentrate on the stuff you have to get done once Zoe’s back. You know, like readying her room. Positive thoughts.”
“Right. Positive thoughts.” She had a million things to get ready. They had just moved in here yesterday. The house was delivered totally furnished, but there hadn’t been any time to do any decorating or get Zoe’s room ready. She tried to make a list in her head of all the things she had to get, but it wasn’t working. What if they couldn’t find Zoe? What if they found her body?
“My mind keeps going to what could happen to her,” she admitted. “What if—”
“Stop it. It’s no use torturing yourself with what-ifs. Whatever happened, you will get through it, together.”
Then she heard the front door open. She jumped up and ran into the hallway.
“Zoe!”
The little girl was plastered against Hector’s massive chest, making her look even smaller than she already was.
“She’s okay,” Hector said gruffly.
Mary slowly walked up to the girl, not wanting to spook her. Zoe turned toward her, her eyes peeking through a curtain of blond curls. When their eyes locked, the little girl launched herself into Mary’s arms.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” Mary said soothingly while taking her over from Hector. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“I called a doctor,” Hector said. “He’s on his way over.”
Mary carried Zoe to the couch, settling down with her on her lap. She couldn’t stop shaking.
Zoe was covered in a big jacket, and they sat in silence for a while as Mary stroked her hair. Her breathing eventually slowed, and the shaking stopped. It took a few minutes before Mary realized Zoe was sleeping. She held out her hand to Hector, urging him to come sit next to her. Jazzy scooted over.
“So, what happened?” her cousin asked.
As Hector began to unfold the horrors of the night, probably heavily censured, Mary shivered. Hector put an arm around her and she leaned in to him.
“So, how did you find this Pachenkov guy?” Jazzy asked. “Tess told us about Ivan, but other than that, she didn’t have a clue where to find Zoe.”