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I kept the knife against Brock’s balls while I took the little baggie Valery held out to me. Aside from the color, the pale, multi-colored pills inside had a very familiar N stamp.
“Where did you get this?” I dangled the baggie in front of Brock’s face.
“Dalton’s,” Brock answered.
“When?”
“Two days ago.” Thankfully, that ruled out Marek since I knew he’d been working. It also saved me from any more of Valery’s pointed glares and huffs whenever Nirvana was mentioned.
“From whom?” I continued.
“Bartender.” Brock squeaked, trying to shrink into himself as I pushed harder with the knife. “Jude! Jude! His name is Jude! His number’s in my phone!”
I pocketed the pills and picked up one of the blue-tinged washcloths, dabbing at the perspiration on Brock’s forehead. “Thank you, Brock.”
He nodded slowly, unsure if the danger was over or not. As soon as his mouth relaxed a little, I jammed the washcloth between his teeth and clamped a hand over it. In one swift motion, I sliced through the tendon behind his knee. Not enough to kill him, but definitely enough to hobble him for a while.
He screamed under my hand and curled into a ball, trying to reach his maimed leg.
Wiping my knife on his boxers, I sheathed it behind my belt buckle again as I stood and headed for the door. “Grab this asshole’s phone and then find me Jude.”
A quiet murmuring behind me acknowledged the order as I stepped out into the night air. For the first time in weeks, the tension finally eased in my temples.
15
MAREK
“You’re going to be late!”I yelled, stuffing the kids’ lunches into their backpacks.
Nadia took off down the hallway, herding Bri out of the bathroom by nipping at her feet. Despite my insistence that Misha take the dog back,heinsisted she would be good for the kids. So, in addition to pulling my hair out of my head and trying to be a parent for the past week, I’d been dog-sitting too.
I plucked the waffles out of the toaster and threw them on a paper towel before hurrying out of the kitchen, checking my watch for the tenth time. Since my Kawasaki wasn’t exactly designed to transport children, Mishaalsoinsisted that I keep the Suburban, but it wasn’t the fastest car on the planet—especially since I drove it with a hell of a lot more care than I did my bike.
“Come on! Let’s go already!” I swear, some mornings, I felt like a fucking drill instructor.
Nadia barked, echoing my impatience. I might have dreaded them but mornings seemed to be her favorite part of the day, when she got to exercise her natural talents at rounding up wayward creatures. Although I had to say, she was pretty useful at bedtime, too, when I was trying to get them to hurry up with the baths and teeth and hair and everything else that kids were supposed to do.
“I can’t find my shoe!” Ezra shouted, tearing out of the bedroom only wearing one sneaker.
“If you left them by the door like I told you, then this wouldn’t be an issue,” I groaned, dropping their shit on the kitchen table and striding into the living room to help him look under the furniture.
A heavy pounding on the door sent Nadia into overdrive with the barking. I practically snarled in response, trying to drown out the dog. “Bri! Go get the door!”
“Who is it?” she shouted at me over the noise.
“Does it look like I fucking know? It’s probably Sveta or Misha or—just open the door!” I picked up one of the pillows that had fallen on the floor and tossed it back on the couch, revealing Ezra’s missing sneaker. “It’s right here, buddy.”
“My shoe!” He sprinted over and launched himself at the couch, sticking his foot out at me.
Rolling my eyes, I stuffed his foot into it and tied the laces quickly, hoping we wouldn’t be any later than we already were. If we got caught in traffic, they were going to besofucking late and I didn’t need either of them getting slapped with truancy on top of everything else.
“Baby! Come here!” a female crooned behind me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Ezra shot past me and took off running, yelling, “Mom!”
I stood slowly and turned, facing the last person I ever thought I’d see at Misha’s apartment, let alone at seven thirty in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Crystal sneered, tightening her arm on Ezra as he hugged her waist. “Picking up my children. What does it look like?”
