“I’m not doing comms—” Nikolai cuts me off with a stern glare. Usually, it would have me backing down in an instant—this is his sanction, so he can do with it as he pleases—but that excuse won’t fly today. “Nero said the word on the street is Alexei is doing this because he wants me. If that’s true, he won’t stop until he gets me.”
“He won’tgetyou, Trey. He’llkillyou.” He locks his eyes with mine. They’re more sparked with worry than fortified with the hate they are generally fired by. “You were acting on my orders, which means retribution for Tristan’s death belongs on my shoulders.”
“Nik—”
“Don’t make me take this decision out of your hands, Trey. You either stay here as I am requesting, or our truce will be over. Don’t you know princes from different realms can’t be friends?”
He doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He’s just stressed, that’s all. We’re brothers. Allies. Best friends. That’s why he’s dealing me the hand he is. He’d rather have me as his enemy than see me buried. It’s his fucked-up way of saying he cares about me.
“Get the quads fueled up but tell the men to hold until I’m ready.” Stealing my chance to put forward a better argument, he shuts the door in my face.
I’m barely halfway to the weaponry room decked out with enough equipment for three wars when Nikolai and Justine nip at my heels. Nikolai’s speed is so fierce, Justine has to jog to keep up with him. Her panicked expression grows when Nikolai tells her she’s to stay with me, and under no circumstances is she to leave Clarks.
While my brothers strap AK-47s to their chests and don army paint like real-life motherfucking marines, I crack open a laptop and hack into the Las Vegas PD’s command center. I knew jack shit about computers only a few months ago, but the head operative of the firm Nikolai hired for security showed me a few pointers. Tapping into a scanner radio takes barely ten seconds.
The bustling space descends into silence when Justine shouts, “I can’t help you if I’m left in the dark! Tell me what’s happening!” She has the eye of everyone in the room, but there’s only one pair she’s seeking. Nikolai’s. “Please, Nikolai. I want to help.”
“We roll out in thirty,” Nikolai tells the men frozen and gawking. His wording couldn’t be more perfect. Not only does it lessen the heat of their wrath on Justine, but it also gets their heads back into game mode. Alexei is a moron, but it doesn’t take much more than that to fire a gun.
After inconspicuously requesting for me to join them, Nikolai strays his eyes to Justine. “Ahren—”
“What’s going on?” she interrupts, almost sobbing.
Shock rains down on me when Nikolai picks honesty over deceit. It’s a rarity for him when he’s dealing with the opposite sex. “The Popov compound is moments from being stormed.”
“By whom? If it’s the authorities, I can help. They need a warrant and don’t even get me started on the number of books I’ll throw at them if they don’t have one.”
I smile right along with Nikolai. Justine’s offer was sweet, but nothing is ever done here with a book. “We’re not being raided by police,Ahren.It’s a rival of ours, unhappy with the consequences of joining a war he didn't belong in.”
Justine’s lack of knowledge about this lifestyle is seen on her face when she asks, “What do you mean? What war?”
When Eight bursts into Clarks, out of breath and with an ashen face, Nikolai signals for his men to move. Eight can’t get a word out since he’s so out of shape, but his facial expression makes it obvious as to what he wants to say.Hell has come knocking.
While Eight struggles to fill his lungs with air, Nikolai continues wooing Justine with straight-up honesty. “Vladimir sought help with your kidnapping. My men couldn't get to Roman without taking down members of their crew. A man lost his son; now he is coming to get answers.”
Well, mostly truthful. I still haven’t given him the full recollection of events that occurred that morning between K and…K. I haven’t had the time. That’s why I can’t let my fuck-up be placed entirely on Nikolai’s shoulders. I messed up, so I should pay the price for my error.
“Let me come, Nikolai. Let me speak to Alexei. He just wants to bury his son.” That was the only term he was interested in negotiating with Vladimir two years ago when his middle son’s switch in enemies resulted in his death.
“No.” Nikolai’s denial snaps out of his mouth like the crack of a whip. After mounting the ATV he arrived at Clarks on, he strays his eyes to mine. “He will kill you,thenhe’ll bury his son. You were acting on my orders, Trey, so the blame for Tristan's death is on my shoulders, not yours.”
Hearing the unease in Nikolai’s tone as readily as me, Justine begs, “Please don’t go.Please.”
Forever a leader, Nikolai replies, “I have to,Ahren.These aremymen. That makes themmyresponsibility.”
“What about me?” Justine fights back. “I'm your responsibility too. You promised to keep me safe. You can't do that if you’re dead.”
When the sound of gunfire breaks through the eerie silence, Nikolai kicks over his ATV before locking his eyes with mine. “Keep her safe, Trey. That’s youronlyjob. Keep myAhrensafe."
I barely dip my chin half an inch when he yanks back on the throttle.
“Nikolai, please!” I band my arm around Justine’s waist before she can take off after him on foot. “Don’t leave me! I love you!” She kicks, wails, thrusts, and grunts for the next several minutes, her fight only lessening when Nikolai’s ATV disappears into the darkness of the night. “Let me go.” She stabs her nails into my arm like K did when she woke from a nightmare before jabbing the heels of her shoes into my shins. “Nikolai!”
Her frustrated wails are soon echoed by the women in the dormitory. They call out just as loud, and their cries are just as anguish-filled. When I nudge my head to the corridor where their room is located, Eight jerks up his chin, hearing my silent request for him to go check on them. My room is on the other side of the compound, but they’re so loud, they could wake K.
With Eight’s wariness as high as mine, he removes a gun from the back of his jeans when he reaches the opening. When he disappears from view, I set Justine back onto her feet. A florally scent smacks me in the face a mere second before Justine’s fist does. Her gall both frustrates and excites me. Not because I’m a brain-dead idiot who enjoys being hit, it’s because she socked me with the same amount of intensity K did only two days ago. Justine’s hit reveals how strong K is. She may look frail and scrawny, but she’s far from it. Even at her weakest, she gives it her all.
After returning my head front and center where it was before I was punched in the face, I mutter, “I deserve that… and so much more.” My brothers are fighting for my honor while I hide out like a coward. A throbbing jaw isn’t close to what I deserve.
