At least, I don’t think she’s leaving me. But I’m not sure what she’s got up her sleeve. It’s possible that she’s meeting up with Mikhail. That it’s something the two of them prearranged before I confiscated that fucking burner phone.
But I’m not willing to believe that yet. Not without proof.
I want to believe there’s a good reason for her suddenly going dark. If I had to put my money on it, I’d bet that it has to do with her stepmother and that fucking picture.
“She’s probably meeting up with her brother,” I add, unable to shake the worry from my gut.
“Pakhan?” Lucky asks.
“I don’t know which one,” I admit, even though it kills me.
“Priest’s not going to like this.”
I shoot a glare at my brother. “That’s why we’re not going to fucking tell him until after I find Katya.”
Lucky gives me a look. “You sure about that,fratello?”
“Yup,” I respond succinctly.
As in, end of story.I outrank you, I’m older than you, and you need to sit the fuck down and let me lead.
But the truth is, I’m not sure about anything anymore.
“Whatever happens, this is on your head,” Lucky mutters.
That’s when something else hits me, a strange sensation deep in my gut like I’m missing something.
“Luck,” I say slowly, reloading the tracking app on my phone that shows me Katya’s location. “What’s the address of the Bratva sex club?”
He rattles off the street and numbers, and everything inside me turns to ice.
Because it matches what I’m seeing on my phone.
“Call it off!” I holler at him. “Call it the fuck off right now.”
“Jesus,” he snaps. “Call what off? You’re not making any sense.”
“The detonation,” I snap, desperate. I want to tear this fucking car apart with my bare hands. I want to kill everyone on this fucking road who’s keeping me from where I need to be. “Call it off right goddamn now.”
“I can’t call it off. My guys have already started the countdown. There’s no pause button.”
I grab Lucky by the shirt, shaking him, out of my mind. “Jesus fuck, Lucky. That’s where Katya is. She’s in the fucking club.”
“Calm the fuck down,” Lucky bites out, “and listen to me. My guys are going to call the front desk five minutes before it goes off, warning everyone to clear out. It’s going to be okay. She’ll get out of there in time.”
“Damn it!” I rage. “That’s not good enough.”
Traffic hasn’t budged an inch. I’ve never felt more helpless or trapped.
I open the car door.
“What the hell are you doing?” my brother demands.
I slide out onto the pavement. “I’m getting to her as fast as I can.”
“That’s fucking crazy,” Lucky argues. “You’ll never get there in time.”
“Watch me.”
