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Chapter 17 – Briana
Good to her word, Sophiawas right about the poor driver wearing fake, Easter rabbit ears. I hid my smile and addressed him formally when I reached the baggage claim. But the moment we got to the car, I offered to take them off. He gave one shake of his head and said in a thick accent that his princess had instructed him to wear them and he had obeyed.
I mulled over the odd loyalty behind that as we drove through the LA traffic. There was something about the deference of this driver and his willingness to wear the ridiculous costume. Maybe it was a nod to the Old World, using the term ‘princess’ as a traditional title?
I looked out the window and saw palm trees and sunshine. I sighed contentedly. It had taken a few days to arrange this weekend away, but I managed easily enough. Being a workaholic and knowing one of the law firm’s partners carried enough clout to secure a four-day weekend. I didn’t begrudge the leave; I didn’t hate special treatment if I’d earned it.
Adjusting my chunky, chic shades, I caught movement from the driver. His fingers were wrapped around the wheel in a death grip, knuckles stretched white. A trickle of unease coiled down my spine. I hadn’t asked where we were going, assuming Sophia had given him instructions. The driver shifted, flicking a few glances back at me when he didn’t think I was looking.
“What’s your name?” I asked, pinning his eyes in the rearview mirror. I already knew, but it was a good conversation starter.
“Toli,” he clipped out.
“Well, Toli, it seems we are in a completely safe neighborhood, and yet you’re sweating bullets,” I observed. “Care to tell me why that is?”
The driver scanned the roads. “We’re perfectly safe in these streets, miss.”
If we’re safe, then why are you so nervous?I chewed on the question for a few minutes. Pulling my phone out, I considered texting Sophia. Whatever was going on, I didn’t want to be the last to know, and I wanted to ask her if all Eastern European men were built like trees. But that wasn’t really what I wanted to know, although it was interesting to see the same ink on Viktor’s skin also littered this driver’s. His muscles were nearly as impressive as the grizzly bear.
Toli kept scanning the surroundings. If we were in a bad neighborhood, it was hard to say. It seemed like a sprawling suburban area with the typical spread of middle-income shopping options.
“Where are we going?” I asked, meeting his frazzled gaze in the rearview mirror again.
The driver swallowed hard. “The princess instructed me to pick you up and take you to breakfast.”
We pulled into a strip mall parking lot and cruised to the far end. A barbeque joint stood as a separate building on the corner. Complete with roughhewn planks, a covered porch with rockers, and a flag from Texas, this restaurant hit the theme perfectly. It didn’t look like a place that served brunch. Roadkill, possibly, but not eggs benedict or fluffy waffles.
“Wait, ma’am, and I’ll get your door,” Toli hurried to say before he exited the vehicle and scurried around.
It was nine in the morning, so unless this roadhouse establishment sold breakfast, there was some kind of meeting going on that had caused the congregation of cars in the lot. As I looked around, a trickle of anticipation shivered down my spine. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty to let Sophia orchestrate this whole thing? Too late now; I would see her soon enough. Feeling glad I’d taken the time to freshen up in the first-class lounge, I hoped they had coffee inside at least.
My heart leapt at the thought of seeing my friend. I didn’t want to think of my reaction to her brother just yet. I was keeping it under careful wraps, because if I let it consume my thoughts, it would cloud my better judgement.
The driver opened my door at the same time several men pushed out of the Texas restaurant. Big men. With fierce ink decorating every visible inch of their skin. They looked like a biker gang, except they didn’t wear leather and there were no road-hogs. They wore track suits and golden bling, which easily stereotyped them as some kind of thugs.
They gestured to my driver’s bunny ears, and a fiery exchange took place in Russian. I bit back a smile; Sophia must have cast a spell to make him wear the ears. They were speaking too fast, and I only caught one or two words—the cusses and foul ones—but I understood the gist of it. Ribbing was universal, no matter the language. As was defiance. The driver tipped up his chin and put on a proud front at his ridiculous get up. Only Sophia could have inspired such strong loyalty.
I took a step forward, hoping she was inside. Having spent damn near every day with her at one time, I was ready to see her again after our separation, made more awkward by the rift between her brother and me.
The burly men stepped to block the door. I narrowed my eyes at them. Another string of angry words exploded out of Toli, and he stabbed a finger at his faux ears. While the brutes in front of me tried hiding their smirks and keeping up their tough guy act, once one cracked, the other did too. A hulking specimen, probably seven feet tall, grinned down at me and opened the door.
I gave him a nod and pushed into the restaurant. The change in light had me pulling my shades off and blinking hard several times until my eyes adjusted. Although there was a wooden partition separating the sitting area from the entryway, there was a visible shift in the group sitting around the bar.
I took in the scene, noting the steaming coffee and bloody bandages pushed to the side. Their grim faces registered in the back of my mind, and I absently thought they didn’t seem to be construction workers. But it was the male with his back to me that I zeroed in on. The ussuri.
That little shit had sent me straight to her brother!
I swallowed, trying to remove the lump in my throat as Viktor stood, white tee shirt pulled tight across his muscled torso. There were no bloodstains on the garment, but he was in a heated discussion with another equally intimidating individual at a high-top table a little way from the bar.
What was Sophia thinking?A pit formed in my stomach as I looked over the group. Clearly, I was intruding on business of some kind, although this was nothing like a prominent construction company I’d ever seen. No boardroom, no suits. And if my friend was here, she wasn’t out front to save me from the pack of wolves—viscous, snarling Siberian wolves who were not happy I was here.
The man Viktor was speaking to cut me a glance. Time slowed down, and my heart hammered loudly in my ears. That intimidating body I was all too familiar with turned around. Viktor’s blue gaze was glacial as he took me in. The lord of the beasts, scenting the prey.
