Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
KAI
A week after we blended our families against our wills I’m startled awake by my ringing phone. I grab it blindly and look at the number. It’s unknown. I think about letting it roll into voicemail, but many people I do business with don’t have listed numbers.
Carter pulls his arm from around my waist and sits up, rubbing his eyes. He looks adorably rumpled, his hair all over his head and lines on his face from his pillow. His curious glance flashes in the low moon.
“Who’s calling at this hour?” He picks up his phone from the nightstand on his side of the bed and groans. “It’s three in the morning.”
“No clue.” I show him the phone just as it stops ringing. But it starts up again almost immediately. “Whoever they are, they’re fucking persistent.”
Carter growls in frustration and throws the blanket from his legs. I watch his naked ass flex as he pads to the bathroom. Since we’re up, I wouldn’t mind feeling his dick inside me again. He fucked me thoroughly before we went to sleep, but I’m always up for another round.
Hoping to get the mystery caller off the line quickly so my husband can dick me down, I answer with an annoyed, “This better be fucking good.”
A pause. Then a voice I didn’t think I’d hear since he’s been ducking my calls for a meeting. “Good morning, Kaison St. Clair. We need to meet,” the head of the Petrov family, Vlad, says in his smooth accented voice.
I sit up straighter, shock rocketing through me. The Russians and Fensters have been avoiding our calls and requests to meet for the past few months. I’d given up having a halfway civil conversation with either of them, figuring we’d solve whatever issues we had with our guns.
“Vlad,” is all I say. I reach into my nightstand and pull out my gun and sheath with my knife. Then I walk over to the closet I now share with Carter and start pulling down clothes for both of us.
Since I got my concussion and spent a week in here, I haven’t slept in my room. Slowly, I started bringing my clothes here, and now I have my side of the closet, as well as a few drawers in his dresser.
“There has been…a wrong done to me by your family. You need to make it right.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” I ask, sliding on my pants. Carter comes out of the bathroom, and I put the phone on speaker and toss it on the bed while I finish getting dressed.
“Not over the phone,” Vlad growls.
“Line is secure,” Carter says, an edge to his tone that would make a lesser man piss himself. “What’s the issue?”
Vlad pauses again. “Whitlock. Since you both are here, allow me to tell you what a cocksucker in your organization did.” I bristle but allow him to speak. “They kidnapped a boy from my old neighborhood. No more than eighteen. Tortured him for information about this war someone wants with you. He knew nothing but was killed anyway. His body was left on his mother’s doorstep with a dozen roses. I know that is your calling card. I would like answers for this.”
Carter and I look at each other, anger flashing across his face. We told everyone to stand down so we could figure this shit out. So we wouldn’t be getting fucking phone calls like this at fucking three in the morning.
Asking the question that’s been running through my mind, Carter asks, “Why call instead of seeking revenge? I know your family doesn’t take too kindly to shit like this.”
“We can talk when we are alone. I do not trust this open line.” Carter shakes his head and finishes getting dressed.
“No offense, Vlad”—full offense to Vlad— “but we don’t trust you. One of our guys killed one of yours. What’s to say you won’t try to get revenge when we’re alone?”
“Here is what I propose. You pick the time and location and bring as many men as you would like. I will bring my son and only my son. As you know, he is an only child. If we both die, the Petrov family will fall. I have no intentions of dying, so I will not cross you.”
We stare at each other, having a silent conversation. It’s a good compromise. We can have the meeting on our time and at whatever location we like, leaving Vlad at a disadvantage. If he tries to backdoor us, there will be St. Clair and Whitlock men there to cut them both down. And we’d have one less family to worry about.
Carter nods once and I agree. “Okay, Vlad. Give us some time to find the sonofabitch that did this, and we’ll give you a call back.”
“I’ll reach out to you, Kaison. In, say, forty-eight hours?”
“Forty-eight hours,” I repeat, and he hangs up.
Taking deep breaths that do nothing to calm my rising temper, I growl, “Who. The fuck. Disobeyed our orders?”
“No fucking idea,” he says, strapping a knife to his belt loop and holstering his gun at his back, “but whoever it is will regret that they were ever born.”
I don’t like repeating myself. I also don’t like motherfuckers not listening when I say shit. The person or people involved in killing the Russian kid will die screaming.
“Call everyone,” I say over my shoulder as I step into the hallway to wake Nico up. “I want to get to the bottom of this shit today.”
I bang on Nico’s door, my temper still flaring. It’s not often I get called in the middle of the night for some bullshit. That’s usually Pop’s area.
That pulls me up short. No, it’s not Pop’s anymore. It’s me. I’m the leader of the St. Clair family now. Any decisions going forward will be mine and Carter’s.
Pop probably gave Vlad my number. They have a contentious relationship, so it makes sense that he would have Pop’s number. And with Pop not speaking to me, why not give the Russian my number so he could call me himself?
Irritation flows through my veins, but I tamp it down. It’s not time to think about Pop right now. Right now, I need to focus on the pieces of shit that feel like they don’t have to follow my fucking orders.
Nico answers his bedroom door, gun in hand. “What happened?”
“Russians called. Someone killed a Russian kid. We gotta figure out who.”
All traces of sleepiness leave his eyes. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed.”
Two days later, Vlad and his son Alexei stand in the basement of The Fox Club, surrounded by twenty of my men and twenty of Carter’s. Upstairs, twenty more men sit around and guard the club in case the Russians cross us.
Hanging from my favorite hook is the man that green lit the operation to kidnap the first Russian they came across in Russian territory to get information about the war. The other three men involved are piled in the corner, bullets in their heads and chests. Their families get a dozen roses, but they will not be given a funeral. They’ll be taken to one of the St. Clair funeral homes and cremated, their names and legacies not to be spoken of again. Their families will also not be compensated for their deaths. They knew the risk when they decided to go against our fucking orders—unless they had money saved up for a rainy day for their families, they’ll be out in the cold. They’ll only have their wayward fucking fathers or husbands to blame.
Me, Vlad, and Carter stand close to the man that is begging for his life. Blood spills from his mouth and wounds all over his body. He smells like piss and shit, having been left to hang from the hook for close to thirty hours. He hasn’t suffocated from his position, but he’s not long for this world.
“I was…just…trying to…help,” he says pitifully, trying to open swollen eyes.
To my pleasure, I got to watch Carter work this time. I can tell he was trained in fighting, his punches and knees landing in places that are meant to cause maximum harm. He allowed Mack, the man hanging, to defend himself, but it was like a professional boxer fighting a priest—it was a no contest.
Watching him work was so hot that I blew him after we strung Mack up, swallowing his load with relish before we went to find the other men that Mack told us were involved. Carter fucked my face like he hated me, and I was in fucking heaven.
Carter slaps Mack across the face almost lazily, but Mack still cries out in pain. “We fucking said to stand down. You decided you didn’t want to follow fucking orders ,” he growls. “Tell Vlad what you told us.”
Mack peeks over at Vlad, a large, strained breath leaving his chest. “Kid said…you weren’t…involved.”
“He was right,” Vlad says in an almost bored tone. “You snatched someone on my territory. That will not fly with me, my friend.”
“Not…your friend,” Mack manages to snark, even in the position he’s in.
I glare at him. “Now ain’t the time for your smart fucking mouth.” I pull my blade from behind my back and flick it over to Vlad. “You can get your revenge, then we’re square.”
Vlad takes the blade and twists it in his fingers. “Beautiful blade.”
“It’s my favorite,” I say dryly.
He looks up at me. “I want compensation for the youth’s family. Five million should do it.”
“Done,” Carter and I say together.
Vlad nods and looks back at the knife in admiration. “He was not a part of my family. If he were, I would not rest until everyone responsible was killed, including you two.”
“Watch it,” Carter threatens.
Vlad continues talking as if Carter didn’t say anything. “But he was a reckless kid. I have no doubt he said something to make himself a target. It was not the first time we have had to come to his rescue.” He meets our eyes in turn. “His family will not seek revenge. They will take the money given and leave the area. As will we.”
He turns suddenly and swipes the knife across Mack’s throat. Blood splashes on the three of us, but none of us make a move to avoid the spray. Mack thrashes around, his eyes wide with panic. He got what he fucking deserved.
After Mack goes still and his eyes close with his death, I send the men at our backs upstairs. Now that the deed is done, we need to talk to Vlad alone. There is no other entrance down here that Vlad can see, so he won’t try anything, for fear that he won’t get out of The Fox Club alive.
Once we’re alone, Vlad wipes the blade on Mack’s tattered shirt and hands it back to me. “Thank you for making this right.”
Carter dips his head. “I’ll transfer the five million to whatever account you want.”
He nods and walks around the body, looking over Carter’s and my handiwork. “I was not jesting when I said we will leave. Our family has found new territory in Delaware that is a good market to tap into. Alexei has been operating there for a few months. After your war is over, we will leave.”
“Why not before?”
“Absences breed vacuums. During a war, your family or whoever is after you cannot bridge that gap. It will bring more people and more trouble.”
I can’t deny his logic.
If he leaves now, his territory will be up for grabs. We’d be worried about a family after us, as well as whoever heard that the Russian territory was vacant. It would bring a shit storm down on our slice of Jersey and have bodies dropping faster than the morgues can process them.
“I tell you this,” he continues, “so you know that we have nothing to do with your family’s troubles. If there is war, the Petrovs are not involved. We are packing up shop now to make our move. We don’t have much, as the Fensters, Reyes and now St. Clair-Whitlock family has everything tied up. We have more in Delaware with less trouble.”
He steps around Mack and holds out his hand. “My family is tired of war. We want to live and retire and take gambler’s money.”
I shake his hand and Carter clasps it in turn. “You want us to walk you out?”
Vlad smiles sharply at us. “We can handle it. If your men are not as dishonorable as these, we will leave safely.”
We shake Alexei’s hand as well and they trot up the stairs. Manuel and a few other men from both the Whitlock and St. Clair family come to retrieve the bodies and clean up.
I turn to Carter with a raised eyebrow. “Do you believe him?”
He nods. “He stepped into the lion’s den with no back up. If he was involved, that’s a risk that might not have paid off.”
“And you believe the Dominicans.” Not phrased as a question, but Carter answers anyway.
“Yeah. They’re familiar with how war can hurt their family and they’re not eager to jump into it with a family larger than theirs. That leaves the Fensters.”
“The fucking Fensters.” I had my suspicions when we were eliminating families. They’re the only family that could even hope to match ours in strength and size. The head of the family is also cunning. He wouldn’t come at us guns blazing. He would try to destabilize us, try to get us off center so they can come in and attack while we’re confused and disoriented.
What he didn’t count on was me and Carter getting married and actually working well together. He didn’t expect us to band together to try to root them out. He probably didn’t expect us to reach out to other families for answers. It’s something he wouldn’t do, so it’s inconceivable to trust the word of another man.
As the men pass by with the bodies of the dead, I think about how much this will be in our future. There will be plenty of men dead, both ours and the Fensters. It’s the reality of war, and I don’t relish that so many of our guys will find their way to the grave.
Carter breaks the silence. “We’ll get with Declan about extra security. He should have men assembled into a patrol that will keep this family safe. Then we go on the offensive.”
I smile. I live for the offensive.