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Three days ago, a life that meant everything to me had been snuffed out. No one seemed to give a damn. This fucked up world just continued without her. The sun had risen and set, and risen again.
It took me two hours to walk back home. Time I needed to clear my head.
As I neared the apartment Viking’s number came up on my cell and I declined the call. Not now. Maybe never again. My vocal cords weren’t working correctly.
Some idiot had parked a shiny black SUV with tinted windows in front of the building. It practically screamed out to be stolen. Any other day, I would’ve thought of a way to nick some parts to sell to Viking, but not today. Money didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. I was never gonna get my mom out of the escort business. I was… what the fuck was I going to do with the rest of my life?
The SUV’s doors opened. Two beefed up men in suits got out. I automatically analyzed the situation. They were obviously packing heat.
When I passed the car, one of the men stepped in front of me and pointed at the back door. The other one opened the door, and motioned me in.
“Mister Sokolov wants to speak with you.”
He sounded as if I should be honored by that privilege.
“I don’t know a Sokolov. Don’t want to become his bitch selling his stuff on a corner either.” I’d seen too many kids on the block running guns or ice for the cartels or the Bratva.
A string of Russian curse words followed, and I pretended like I didn’t understand any of it.
Just as I gave him my back, a deep voice from within the car said, “You are Anyanka’s son.”
I froze. Slowly, I turned toward the voice. In the back of the car sat a man in an impeccable black suit. His hair was a steely gray, and his eyes held a challenge.
“I’m not here to make you my bitch. I’m here to make the worldyourbitch.”
My feet walked up to him of their own accord. There was something about him, about the way he’d said my mother’s name.
“How do you know my mother?”
“I was a friend.”
No, he wasn’t. “Then why have I never met you before?” If this guy was one of those crazy clients of hers who believed they were in love with her, this talk was going to go south fast.
“We lost touch when she left Russia.” A hint of sadness crossed his face. “I got a call two days ago that she died. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Loss. Why did people use that word? As if I had misplaced her somewhere, and couldn’t find her.
“She didn’t just die. She was murdered.” And someway, somehow, I was going to find the fucker who did it.
“What are you going to do about that?”
“Whatever I need to.”
Sokolov scoffed. “The man you are looking for is just a hired gun. The real killer is the man behind the curtain, the puppet master. You will never find him, let alone get anywhere near him. Not unless you follow me. Choose, right now. You want to be the predator, or you want to continue to be the prey?”
“Follow you where?”
He locked eyes with me. “To the deepest pits of hell, straight into the fire.”
“I’m already there.”
A crude laugh followed. “Nyet. You haven’t even sniffed a hint of sulfur yet,ditya.”
“I’m not a kid.”
Sokolov’s eyes narrowed. “So, youdospeak your mother’s tongue. Maybe you won’t be a hopeless case after all. By the time I’ve trained you, you’ll put Lucifer to shame. All you have to do is give up your soul.”
I don’t think I had one to begin with. “If I go with you, you’ll find my mother’s killer?”
