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“Not if you aren’t eating,” Danny said, aware that Artyom often skipped breakfast before the gym.
“I switched half of my gym days to the evening,” he said, opening the refrigerator again. “It helps me sleep.”
Danny frowned. “Are you having the dreams again?”
“Sort of,” Artyom said before ducking behind the refrigerator door. When he straightened up, he had an armful of ingredients that he carried to the new butcher block rolling island. “We’re having omelets.”
“Sounds good.” Danny understood that his uncle didn’t want to talk about the bad dreams that kept him awake some nights. They seemed to come in waves and would eventually stop. He had suggested once that Artyom see a therapist.Only once.
Changing the subject, Danny reached out and swept his fingers along the beautifully sanded butcher block. “This came in yesterday?”
Artyom nodded. “I wasn’t sure about it when Pepper suggested doing the island on wheels, but she was right. It works better for the space.”
“How is her dad? Did they ever find the guys that robbed the shop and beat him?” Before Danny had left for Ireland, there had been a break-in at the carpentry shop where Pepper and her dad created custom woodwork. It had been a brutal beating, and Jim had suffered a debilitating stroke.
“Not good,” Artyom said with a wince. “He’s still in rehab. I dropped by to see him a few days ago, and he looked rough. His hands are curled, and he’s barely able to talk. I don’t think he’s walking at all.”
“Fuck.”
“Ruined a man’s life over some tools.” Artyom shook his head. “If I ever find out who did it?” He gestured to his own neck with the gleaming knife he had been using to chop bell peppers. “And I'll make sure it’s slow.”
“With as many friends as Jim has in construction, you won’t have any trouble finding a place to hide the bodies.”
“Speaking of bodies,” Artyom returned to his task, “what’s going on with Burt? Did you get anywhere with Ten’s information? Did Kostya have any answers for you?”
“Sounds like you know everything,” Danny remarked, not at all surprised his uncle would have gotten the lowdown from the other men.
“Not everything,” he said and reached for a container of local mushrooms to slice. “I don’t know what was said between you and Sean.”
Danny caught his uncle’s warning stare. “Nothing to do with family business. We talked about Macy and Burt and that was that.”
“It was stupid to go there alone. Sean has a hair trigger. I’ve seen him go from calm and laughing to beating a man with a pipe in ten seconds flat.”
“That would have been nice to know before I went in there,” Danny commented dryly.
“You didn’t ask.” Artyom gestured to a cabinet. “Get the cast iron.”
Danny hefted the big old pan onto the stove. He turned the dial to ignite the gas flame and let the skillet heat up before adding some olive oil. When it was glossy, he tossed in the diced peppers, onions and mushrooms and gave them a quick stir with a wooden spatula. “Kostya is supposed to call me as soon as his spiders comb through all the available security and traffic footage.”
“And then?” Artyom started cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Then I give it to the attorneys and Janie gets the charges dropped and the kids back,” he said, fully aware it wouldn’t be that simple.
“And then?” Artyom asked, sounding like a damned parrot.
“We move on with our lives?”
“Not if you don’t find Burt and handle him,” Artyom warned. “As long as he’s breathing, he’s a problem.”
Danny looked up from the pan he was minding. “Are you telling me I should kill him?”
“I’m telling you that he’s a problem. Sometimes, problems are best solved by burying them six feet under, Danila.”
It was one thing to kill someone in self-defense, but to actually hunt down Burt and kill him? “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“If it comes down to saving Macy’s life or putting a bullet between Burt’s eyes? You won’t hesitate.”
“Sean wants him. He offered me the bounty.”
