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The corpse of the latest Russian to meet his end by my hand slumps in my grasp and I release his collar with a snarl of disgust. He hits the stone floor with a solid wetslapand I straighten my stance as Archer holds out a rag for me to wipe the blood from my hands.
“Thanks.”
He nods as I take the rag, then he checks the safety on his weapon as I wipe the crimson from my fingers.
It’s been a week since Callahan’s funeral and in that time, the ruins of war have flooded our doorstep. The Russians planted two more bombs at our clubs, taking out men I don’t know by name but honor in loyalty. In return, Archer and I have been stripping thescumfrom every Russian chop shop we come across. This is our fourth in as many days.
“Any more?” I ask and Archer nods.
“One. He’s rollin’ over though, you wanna talk to him, or should I?”
“I'll do it.” I ball up the blood-soaked rag and toss it down to the body at my feet. “How are your brothers doing?”
“They’re having fun,” Archer scoffs, “raiding Russian brothels is child’s play to them. Cain wants to send a few girls to Sienna to check over, see if they’re good enough to be put to work. Think we can set up a meeting?”
“Not today,” I state, stepping over the body and motioning for Archer to follow. “Sienna’s spending time with Cara.”
“Ah.” Archer’s silence says it all. Cara has kept herself out of the family eye since the funeral, too torn up by her grief to really face anyone. Forcing her to see Sienna was my only choice.
Ihateit. There’s nothing I can do to take that pain away from her, no one I can kill or maim to make her feel better. Killing Russians is as close as I get.
We head through the chop shop to the garage where various ripped-out car parts are strewn about the floor and a Russian man kneels between two of my men, at the mercy of their assault rifles. His face is swollen and bruised, blood leaking steadily from the right side of his mouth.
Teeth?
I glance at one of the guards. “How many?”
“Two molars and an incisor,” he smirks proudly in response and I can’t help but laugh.
Let’s get this over with.
“You got a name?” I stop in front of the man, resting my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket to appear bored like this is not worth my time. Hopefully, the bastard will crack faster that way with his life on the line.
He sways slightly as he looks up at me, red drool spilling forth from his fat lips as he speaks.
“Anton,” he croaks.
“My friend tells me you’re willing to share information, anything, in particular, you want to share with the class?”
Silence.
Fuck sake.
“Archer.”
I step aside as Archer darts forward and slams his fist into Anton’s face. Bone audibly crunches under the blow and Anton cries out brokenly, slumping to the right before he’s hauled back into position by Archer’s fists.
“Not what I want to hear Anton,” I sigh, removing my hands from my pockets and grasping the pistol hidden in the waistband of my jeans. “I’ve got places to go, other people to kill. Stop wasting my time.”
Anton looks up at me, his eyes swimming though I doubt that’s from emotion.
“Vat—,” he gurgles and I quirk a brow and Archer steps forward, ready to deliver another blow. I lift a hand to pause his steps.
“Vat do you vant to know?” He chokes out the words and I smirk, faux clapping my hands together.
“So he speaks!” Kneeling down, I use the gun to indicate to Anton, gently tapping the barrel against his forehead. “Your scheming little organization raided my apartment yesterday, why?”
The news of the raid had surprised me but it brought with it a swell of comfort. The Russians don’t know where I’m staying which means Cara is safe where she is. While the safe house isn’thome, it is the most secure place for both of us right now.
