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Ipeelmyglovesoff, turn on the sink, and wash the blood and guts off my hands and face. I’ll lose the clothes altogether before I get home. I hear Yuri and his brother run up behind me carrying the bags of cash. About 2.7 million’s worth from yesterday’s haul on Sergei’s racehorse betting operation.
We wore masks but still hit them with such speed and ferocity, they couldn’t identify us if their mothers’ lives depended on it. Yeah, I could have sent Yuri and his boys, but I didn’t for two reasons. One, I didn’t want Yuri to fuck it up and leave money on the table. And two, because after Sergei pulled that shit, I personally wanted to pound my fists into somebody while I stole his haul.
Unless Sergei has indisputable proof as to the culprit’s identity, he can’t move on me directly to enforce repayment. The bosses take that sort of thing very seriously. He’ll have no other choice but to face the fact that his little Natasha stunt cost him a tidy sum total of $5 million. He can choke on it.
Maintaining our silence, I give the signal to leave. The last thing we needed was for some recording device to catch us calling each other by name. We hurry out of the mostly abandoned apartment building. Half the loot goes with Yuri, the other with his brother. We’ll sort it out properly once the heat dies down. We split up, all leaving separately in old beater cars that we can easily ditch.
I go to one of the joint captain’s apartments located throughout the city. I shower, scrubbing myself clean of any traces of this morning’s hit. I then climb back into the clothes that I left the house in that morning. When I’m miles away, I find a fast-food dumpster to toss the bag with my clothes in it. Only then do I ditch the car and pick up my Maserati to head back to Madison.
Last night had been scary, I’ve been less nervous with the barrel of a gun to my head. I was that terrified that she’d try to leave, and I’d do something…regrettable. I can’t let her go. We need each other. She knows that. And if it’s buried so deep she can’t see it yet, I’ll make her see it.
You can’t tell me fate didn’t bring us together. What were the fucking chances that Dr. Madison Graham would be on ride-along that night I wrapped my car around that tree? Or that she’d agree to help me out of a jam after knowing me for mere minutes? Or that she’d be a brilliant surgeon when we most needed one? The biggest coincidence of them all—is how quickly I became transfixed or spellbound by her. It was as if she bewitched me with that little flashlight she shined in my eyes.
God knows I crave that woman like a parched man in the desert craves a drink of cold water. I can’t get enough of Madison and hate every second I’m away from my oasis.
My mind drifts irresistibly to her now. I think about Mads at home in our bed, tangled up in our satin sheets wearing nothing but those bikini panties and t-shirt. I’d like to slip back into that bed with her, slide my mouth down low between her toned thighs so she awakens to my tongue dancing with her succulent little bud. The moment she comes, I’d turn her over and power-fuck all those bad memories clean out of her head.
My dick grows hard and I press my foot to the pedal, desperate to get home to her.
My cell rings. It’s Stieg. Shit, has news already got out about the hit? I press answer.
“Yeah.”
“Bash, drop what you’re doing and get your ass over here.”
“What? What’s going on?”
“You know the goddamn proof you were looking for?”
I rapidly shift mental gears. This isn’t about this morning’s hit, it’s about retribution against the shitbag who murdered my father. Damn! My morning fantasy with Mads, will have to wait.
“Where are you?”
“I’m heading to the club, I’ll meet you there.”
“All right,” I say, then. “Wait, whoa, let me meet you at your place or at Chris’s Deli, we’ll grab a breakfast sandwich.”
“What the hell?” he objects. “Meet me at the club, I’ll be there in eight minutes.”
“No, Stieg,” I say firmly. “I can’t explain now, but I need you to meet me at Chris’s, all right?”
There’s a pause on the phone before I hear. “Yeah, see you there.”
Stieg knows that if that information pans out and Sergei is guilty of arranging the hit on my dad, I’ll be the one to avenge him and put that shitbag six feet under. If that happens, Stieg also understands that would make me the new boss of the Petrosky family.
Stieg would become one of my senior captains, my right hand.
I pull into the deli and my heart thunders in my chest. Had this day finally come? When I finally find out who ordered the hit? Or will it be more bogus bullshit? Sergei’s raised me since I was twelve after my father died. I admired and looked up to the man until I was old enough to figure out what he was really all about.
I recall the sharp burst of anger over whether or not to take a slice of a human trafficking ring. I argued strongly against it, refusing to be involved with any business that took advantage of children and underage women. Sergei saw it differently, viewed them as just another product to be sold to the highest bidder. As boss, he had the final call but it was the turning point for me.
As one of the captains, I should have informed Sergei about the FBI sting operation going down to bust the ring wide open. But I kept silent and gladly watched the whole thing go up in flames. The entire network went down, lots of scumbags went to prison and Sergei lost his taste for the sordid business. And that was the end of that.
Some of the others have also complained about some of Sergei’s underhanded dealings, and propensity to break his solemn word when it suited him. Still, I’d been loyal to the organization’s hierarchy. It wasn’t until my thirtieth birthday when he informed me in front of all the other bosses and captains that I was to marry Natasha Orlov to heal the rift between our families. All of Sergei’s captains knew that Natasha had been sucking Sergei’s cock for three years. That way he could claim he never fucked her.
Sergei is the greatest proponent of the marriage alliance, says it’s the only way to forge a lasting treaty. Together we could take on the Italians, the Irish, and the Albanians combined. He refuses to see reason or consider any other path. I’d be a source of derision, a laughingstock if I married that cock sucking whore. She bragged that she loved giving him head. Made her feel proud to swallow the seed of the most powerful man in the organization.
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth that I vomited up my meal all over the table right in front of everyone. I left no doubt how sickened I was by the prospect.
