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“We just signed the bond paperwork for her stepmother,” Danny protested.
“And she has a driver’s license and a car, and she can drive herself to the jail to wait,” Artyom insisted in a harsh tone.
“Careful,” Danny warned in Russian. Artyom might be pissed off at him, but Macy had done nothing wrong. He wasn’t going to let anyone talk to her in that ugly way, even family.
Artyom speared him with a withering look but said nothing.
“Danny?” Macy spoke gently. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” he said, tearing his gaze away from his uncle’s. He handed her the paperwork, just in case. “Be careful. Only take in your wallet and phone. Leave everything else locked in the car. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t look at anyone. Just mind your own business.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding dutifully.
“After Janie is released, text me, and I’ll tell you where to meet me.”
“Here.” Artyom reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a set of keys. He tossed them at Macy. “You and your stepmother can stay there as long as you need. The address is on the tag.”
Macy read the tag, and her eyes widened. “Sir, we can’t afford this neighborhood.”
“It’s been handled,” Artyom said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Macy glanced at him as if to make sure she should accept, and Danny nodded encouragingly at her. She turned her attention back to Artyom and smiled. “Thank you.”
She hesitated, seemingly unsure whether to step close for a hug or maybe even a goodbye kiss. In the end, she stepped back and hurried to her car. He didn’t blame her for fleeing. Artyom could be an intimidating son of a bitch.
Before Macy had left the parking lot, Artyom was climbing back into his truck. Danny walked to the passenger side and got in, ignoring his uncle’s scowl. Knowing what an aggressive driver Artyom was, he fastened his seat belt. The last thing he wanted was to end up with his face planted into the windshield.
Artyom reversed out of the parking space and left the parking lot. The tense silence stretched so long that Danny clenched his fists. Unable to take it a moment longer, he asked, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to start yelling?”
Artyom snorted. “I’m not wasting my breath. Nikolai will have plenty to say.”
Danny winced. “How mad is he?”
Artyom flexed his fingers, drawing Danny’s attention to the two nubs on that hand. “You might want to start thinking about which fingers you need most.”
Danny was pretty sure that his uncle was fucking with him, but there was always the chance he was being serious.
“What I will say is that it’s one thing for you to run off and do something stupid, but it’s another for you to drag Boychenko into your mess,” Artyom scolded.
“I told him he could stay in the parking lot.”
“And what kind of brother would he be if he let you walk into danger without anyone at your back?” Artyom shook his clean-shaven head. “You put him in a shit situation. You’re a captain, Danny. Do better.”
Danny stewed on that as Artyom navigated the busy Houston streets. When they arrived at Samovar, his stomach was in knots. Not because he truly feared what the boss would do to him, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of Nikolai’s disappointed glare.
As they entered the back door of Samovar, some of the line cooks looked at him with pity. He followed Artyom through the kitchen and into the main part of the restaurant. It was closed in preparation for dinner service, but there was a low hum as the waitstaff and busboys set the tables and replaced wilted flowers and candles burned down too low. A few of them glanced his way and then quickly averted their eyes. Apparently, his naughty behavior had made the rounds ahead of him.
At the private dining room where Nikolai often held court, Stas waited by the door, guarding it with his life. The street soldier had come from Brighton Beach and had worked for Alexei for a while. Danny had no beef with him and respected him as a fellow member of their bratva. Never one to shy away from trouble, Stas leveled a look his way and then mouthed, “You’re fucked.”
“Thanks,” Danny grumbled as he walked by Stas, trailing Artyom into the dining room. He instantly spotted Ten leaning against the wall in that careless way of his. He had a colorful paperback in hand and turned the page slowly, completely ignoring everyone else.
Seated at the only table in the room, Nikolai had shucked his suit jacket and had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, baring his many tattoos. He wore his reading glasses and scratched figures onto a stack of papers. Whether it was something legal or illegal, Danny didn’t dare ask. Instead, he stood still and waited to be noticed.
With his gaze still on his paperwork, Nikolai finally spoke. “You weren’t even home an hour before you attacked our partners and caused yet another mess for me to clean up.”
