Chapter 26
TOMMY
“How’d you find her?” I’m damn good with a computer.
If there’d been any way to tap into cameras or otherwise use online data to find Danika’s grandmother, I would have tracked her down myself.
There was no trail to be found. I looked.
DiAngelo used other methods, and I’m curious enough to ask, even though I know it’ll feed his already gargantuan ego.
“That’s just what I do—I find people.” He keeps his eyes forward as he drives us deeper into Brooklyn.
“You’re not a fucking bloodhound, D.” He’s always so damn vague. I think he likes pretending he’s mysterious, but that shit doesn’t impress me. I literally don’t understand it. All I want is a straight answer.
DiAngelo lets a smirk slip. “Dobrev is Slovakian, and they live in the center of Little Odessa. Slovaks generally run with the Russians, but there’s a small group of holdouts.
I know a guy. Turns out Dobrev is connected to a few of those holdouts.
They had to confirm for themselves that she’d been taken, which was the only reason this took as long as it did.
Once they got confirmation, they were able to use their connections to get her location.
They were willing to risk giving that info to me but not go as far as rescuing her themselves.
They already walk a fine line with Biba. ”
“I bet. He’ll want to root out the leak.”
“Yeah, which is why I now owe them , and you owe me . Again.”
What I really want to say is don’t agree to help if you’re going to bitch about it, but I don’t because he’s right. I already owe him big for the Grisha introduction, and I don’t need to add to that debt by being ungrateful.
“You know I’m good for it.”
“Yeah, well, let’s hope I never need it,” he mutters as he parks the car out front of a seedy hotel.
We both take in the shoddy exterior—paint flaking off the sign, making it illegible, World War Two–era brick, and windows so corroded they’re no longer translucent.
“I’m gonna have to fumigate my clothes after this, aren’t I?
” he asks. It’s rhetorical, but I answer anyway.
“Might be better to burn them.” I suppress a shiver as the sensation of bugs crawling all over me threatens to derail my composure. “Let’s get this over with.”
We exit the car and head inside. The one good thing about a shitty hotel is no one is going to question us despite the obvious gear we’re carrying under our clothes. This type of place is strictly don’t ask, don’t tell.
On the way up to the room, we recruit one of the housekeeping ladies to help us. She doesn’t speak much English, but the hundred I hand over helps facilitate communication. We have her knock on the door and announce herself.
A heavily accented male voice from inside calls out for her to go away.
I meet DiAngelo’s stare. This is the room.
We have the woman unlock the door with her key card, then allow her to scurry away.
The man inside is starting to holler. I wait to hear him closing in before I open the door fully and shoot him square in the chest with a tranquilizer gun.
It’s not how I normally roll, but we’re trying to keep this mess from snowballing into an outright war.
The barrel-chested Russian stares stunned at the dart sticking out of his right pectoral, then pulls it out and tosses it to the floor.
“Thought you said one would be enough,” DiAngelo says behind me.
“It should be, but this guy is built like a rhino.” I shoot him once more for good measure.
The asshole opens his mouth to roar in anger but ends up doing what looks like a yawn instead as his eyes roll back into his head. He collapses backward like a fallen tree.
“I don’t envy the headache he’s gonna have,” D murmurs.
I nod, then look to the back of the room where an old woman is tied to a chair.
She’s staring intently at the man on the ground. “He dead?”
“No, but he’s going to wish he was when that headache kicks in tomorrow.” I step over him and take out my knife to start cutting away the zip ties holding her in place.
“You must be the Italian.”
“I am an Italian,” I answer vaguely.
“You’re Dani’s guy—the one letting her hide out at his place. I don’t suspect anyone else would be here rescuing me, though I’m not sure why you would be either.”
Dani’s guy. Fuck, I like the sound of that. “Yeah, that’s me. Now, let’s get you out of here.” I lead the way but turn back when I realize she’s still standing in the same place. “You coming?”
“What’s in this for you?” She’s demanding for someone in her predicament, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate her directness.
“You mean why am I here to rescue you?”
“Exactly. What are you getting out of taking this kind of risk?”
“I get Danika,” I say simply.
She eyes me as though trying to hear what’s going unsaid. She doesn’t trust me for a second.
“We really don’t have time for this,” DiAngelo interjects irritably.
I raise my brows at the woman questioningly.
“You’ll have plenty of time to sort out your suspicions once we’re out of here.
We’ve got Petra in a safe house with room for you.
First thing tomorrow, you’ll both get to see Danika.
Or, you can wait here and keep this guy company until the next shift shows up.
” I nudge the unconscious Russian with my boot.
The spitfire woman Danika calls Gran grunts and finally starts forward, though she pauses long enough to kick her captor in the junk and mutter something about kidnapping an old lady.
She’s got serious balls. I’m glad they didn’t kill her.
Danika is going to be over the moon.
And even more importantly, I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. It’s time for Danika to fulfill hers and become my wife.