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“Thank you,” I mumble.
Peterson vacates his chair and heads to the door, opening it for Tabitha to come back in. “You take care of your sister for me. She’s always been a trooper, but even the bravest of us need protecting, too.”
Tabitha sits a little straighter, imbued with purpose. “You’ve got it, sir.”
Once he leaves, I sink further back into my hospital bed. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the stupidly thin mattress they gave me in the cell.
“Do you need anything?” Tabitha asks me. I have a feeling she’s going to be doting on me hand and foot for a while. “I know where the cafeteria is. How about I grab you something to eat?”
I manage a small smile. “I’d kill for a pudding cup, actually.”
“Vanilla or chocolate?”
“Both.”
Tabitha nods. “Aye aye, captain.”
When she leaves, I finally relax. It’s strange, but even after so long spent in isolation, nothing brings me more peace than silence. Being around all these people… leaves me agitated as hell. Every little movement, noise, flash of color overloads my brain. I can’t stand it, can’t bear to be near all this ruckus. Even the steady beeping of my heart monitor is starting to get on my nerves.
Just when I think I’m about to settle and fall asleep, I hear the hospital room door click open. At first, I think it’s the nurse coming in to check on me, but I open my eyes and see that I’m mistaken.
Three tall, dark, and handsome men enter—all of them dressed in tailored suits. Their expressions are severe… and familiar. They have Luka’s dark brown hair and equally deep brown eyes, though they’re all noticeably older. The pictures my team gathered of them almost two months ago hardly do them justice.
In person, they’re the living embodiment of poise, power, and intimidation. I wonder how they got in past my guards?
“I was wondering when you guys were going to show up.”
The second oldest, Dimitri, smiles. “You know who we are? Well, color me flattered.”
“Do you know why we’re here?” the oldest, Mikhail, asks sternly.
“I assume it’s because you want to know where Luka is.”
The third Antonov brother, Pyotr, steps up to my bedside. “Tell us everything you know.”
The tiny voice in the back of my head won’t let me forget who these people are. They’re criminals, Russian gangsters. I’d be an idiot to freely give up what little information I have.
“We just want to find our little brother,” Mikhail says, as if sensing my distrust. “Anything you can give us would be an immense help.”
I bite my tongue. I shouldn’t be talking to these men. I don’t know where the hell two guards went, but the logical thing to do is call for assistance.
I frown. “How’d you get past the guards?”
“Money speaks volumes,” Mikhail replies.
I look away, frustrated. These guys are dangerous—even if theyareLuka’s family.
But they might be able to help, another, quieter voice says in my head.Luka needs all the help he can get.
“Konstantin, Levitsky, and Salkov,” I mutter. “They made Luka transfer money from your offshore accounts into theirs, hoping to cripple you financially.”
Dimitri reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a wad of paper. He hands it to me. “We’re aware. We’ve been monitoring the transactions closely. Luka sent us a code.”
One glance is all it takes for me to realize what they’re talking about. The transactions are strange, all of them featuring ones and zeroes, but nothing else. Binary code, I realize. Apparently one of the brothers has already translated everything, starting from the very first transfer to his last a few weeks ago.
Luka here. Being held prisoner underground. Location unknown. Best guess: outside NY state. Dani Harper with me, alive and well. Trinity wants your money. Send help.
If I don’t make it, take care of Dani. Moya rodstvennaya dusha.
