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If my brother doesn't watch himself, I won't only be killing bratva soldiers tonight.
That fucking picture, with his arm around Lucia. I texted him a warning. Keep his hands to himself or I will break every bone in them. Unlike Orion, I don't have a sense of humor. He knows I mean it.
His response was a picture of my sun leaning on her desk. The angle of the shot indicates he's at least four feet away from her.
His hands might survive the night.
Not like the bratva I'm here to kill.
Itching to get back to Nuovi Inizi and Lucia, I pull into a parking lot of a closed paint store across the street from the bar. I park my X7 in the shadows and put a single earbud in before turning on the app on my phone for monitoring the bugs my guys planted.
The devices have been acting up since the guys placed them. Like there's interference. The Russians could have jammers in the bar, but then the feed would only produce static. Not this interrupted shit. Maybe they've got equipment close by that causes interference.
Doesn't matter. I'm able to tell there are four guys at one of the tables talking. A deep, impatient voice demands the others tell him where Larry, Curly and Mo are. None of the others know.
The surly man, who is probably one of the shot callers, thinks they had a run in with a street gang. He expects them to prevail. Unfortunately for him, two of his men are already dead and in our incinerator.
Larry-slash-Dimitri is cooling his heels in one of our basement cells.
Orion was right about them believing the gangs are responsible for their brethren's disappearance. My brother is a smart guy. Hopefully smart enough not to take any more selfies with my lover.
Knowing he is there watching over her, even if he's being an ass, helps. But this fucking anxiety. This need to be with her and watch over her. It's like nothing I've ever experienced.
It's a damn good thing we're putting her club under our protection. How hard is it going to be to convince her I'm moving in?
Knowing my sun, she won't make it easy for me.
She'll let me do anything to her body, but she holds onto her independence fiercely. Better to stay the nights and start leaving my clothes there. No conversation that will make her think she has to assert her autonomy necessary.
There are only a few cars in the bar's parking lot. I run the plates on all of them while I am waiting for Theo, Bobby and Michael. Two of the vehicles are registered under the identity the bratva are using as a front.
Grabbing what I need from the kit in the back of my SUV, I look around to make sure no one is watching. My truck is hidden from the street by one side of the building. I lope across the nearly empty four lane street, stopping when I'm on the side of one of the bratva vehicles away from the bar.
I listen for anyone coming outside who might see me. There is nothing. No door opening. No crunch of shoes on asphalt.
In my earpiece, I can hear the bratva inside the bar still debating about going to look for Larry, Curly and Mo.
My vote is yes. It will make it easier to covertly eliminate them.
With another look around to make sure I'm not being observed, I place trackers and remote devices that will blow the tires on both vehicles.
Then I go back to my SUV and wait.
Theo's truck pulls in next to mine before the bratva come to an agreement on what to do. We all get out to confab quietly.
"I've got trackers on the two vehicles I could identify. When they leave, Theo, you and Bobby follow the silver sedan. It's tracker VD048 on the app. Michael, you're with me."
Fifteen minutes later, the four men exit the bar. Three got into the blue pickup truck I'd put a tracker on. An older man they referred to as boss, got into the silver sedan.
If we are lucky tonight, Theo and Bobby will track the shot caller back to their real domicile.
I am going hunting and plan to have three more bodies for the incinerator before dawn.
Chapter 28
LUCIA
Atlas climbs into my bed in the early hours of the morning, his body warm and hair damp from a recent shower. His arms go around me, pulling me close to him. Under the clean scent of the shower gel he prefers is a faint whiff of mint and…is that tea tree?
