14. Ben
14
BEN
I ’d lost her.
Twice now, I’d lost Sonya. The first time, it was planned. We’d agreed that our one night of her losing her virginity would be a fling. A single incident. Although there was no way I could’ve counted on how much she would’ve left a lasting impression on my mind.
The second time, after our quickie at the strip club when she’d rushed through there, she bolted again. That wasn’t planned. While we got dressed, I prepared and mentally rehearsed how to bring up so many things—why she was acting like she didn’t remember me, why she’d been away from the Baranov family for so long, and how she’d ended up there at all.
Impatient and frustrated, I spent my every minute scouring the city for her.
First, I hacked into the surveillance cameras at Mancy’s and at the strip club. They didn’t provide me with much. It seemed like she’d gotten into an argument with Kelly and Irina at the table the women had been seated at for lunch, but the view of that section was too distant for me to understand what was said. Per Kelly’s explanation to the Baranov men, she was under the assumption that Sonya wanted to separate Eva from Irina, but she was too flighty to stick around and answer anything.
Then, I walked around near the two buildings to see if she came back. That was the bigger waste of my time, relying almost on luck to strike.
Looking for her online didn’t get me anywhere either. She was staying off the grid, with no cards being used at all. Interestingly, there was no death certificate filed for her. Some of the Baranovs, like Lev, seemed to have written her off as already dead. If she was, no actual document had been filed anywhere to claim that. Then again, the Mafia had their ways of getting around standard documentation protocols.
I couldn’t find Sonya anywhere, and the more that I tried to hunt her down, the more I worried that I was spending too much time and effort searching for her instead of handling the hit on O’Malley.
While Lev had already said he’d hire me to find Sonya after I killed the governor-to-be, I couldn’t get him to ease up and let me work on the Sonya case at the same time. He clearly noticed how interested I was in looking for her because he stated, “You kill O’Malley first, then you can look for her.”
Balancing my priorities, I shifted my schedule to get that old man out of the way. It was easier said than done, though. O’Malley was in the hospital after that strip club shooting, and he had just as many layers of security there as the Baranovs had on Oleg at the other facility.
I couldn’t get to O’Malley to kill him at the moment. Guards could be passed or rendered unconscious, but it was the media that I couldn’t sneak around. Lots of reporters and cameras were waiting for the next governor to be discharged, but from all that I saw online, rumors were spreading that he didn’t even need medical care at all. The word was that O’Malley was acting wounded for pity and to look like a martyr or something like that.
I didn’t give up, though. Being idle wasn’t my style.
Since I wasn’t having any luck finding Sonya and I was limited with ways to hunt for her, I figured I could try to follow some Ilyin men who seemed to be hanging around the hospital where O’Malley was “recovering”.
I’d noticed them hanging around there. My first thought was that the Ilyin family had sworn protection to the governor-to-be. That was the only explanation that would fit the circumstances.
However, when I loitered near them, waiting for them to say something about their assignment, I realized I might have been too rash to assume their presence there had anything to do with O’Malley. Neither of the two men who stood near the hospital entrance mentioned the politician.
After a couple of hours of watching them, I deduced this had to be the most boring stakeout I’d ever accomplished.
And it’s all a crapshoot anyway. I had no proof to justify that the Ilyin men could be connected to O’Malley at all.
“Yeah?” one of the two Ilyin men said as he answered his phone.
Both of them stalled under the awning of a bus stop stand. I remained further back, undercover as a homeless man begging for money from passersby.
“Yeah, he’s with me,” the man told whoever had called him. He tipped his head up at his partner, beckoning him to come closer.
The men didn’t speak as they listened to the call, their heads bent over so their ears would be within reach. Whatever was said was brief and to the point. And if the shocked and determined expressions on their faces were any indication, they were expected to act.
“Fuck, man.” The first one ended the call and put his phone away. “This is fucked up.”
“It is,” the second guy said, nodding his head. “But let’s hurry up and offer backup.” He didn’t need to tell his partner. The man was already on the move, leaving their post here.
Huh. I wonder what’s going on. I fell into step behind them at a distance. Walking briskly, I made sure I wouldn’t lose them and so they wouldn’t be able to turn around and see me stalking them.
Something was up, though. Something had alerted them into action.
“First, Brant was killed,” the first Ilyin said.
“And then Joseph was attacked,” his buddy added. “All because that bitch had to try to get away.”
I was familiar with a female trying to get away.
But they can’t be talking about Sonya, though… Right? I hurried to keep up with them, eager to follow this development.
I didn’t see how Sonya could be involved, but it didn’t feel like a reach. She was the woman on my mind. She was the lover I was desperate to locate, the one I wanted to make mine after two meetups with her. It made sense that she’d be the first woman to come to my mind, but I didn’t like the idea that she could have been escaping from the Ilyins. I didn’t care for the idea of anyone trying to hurt her or hold her captive.
It might not be her. They could be talking about anyone. Rage steamed hotter within me at the mere thought, but I tried to tamp down those ideas. Mafia men were notorious for kidnapping others.
“She can try,” the second man said, “but she won’t get far.”
“I bet she’ll be spitting mad and fighting even harder now.”
The second Ilyin nodded and glanced at him. “She escaped once, but if we hurry up to the safehouse they’re taking her to, we’ll be able to join in on the lesson of showing her what happens when someone thinks they can fuck with the Ilyins.”
Who? Who are you talking about? I hustled up so I wouldn’t lose them on this crowded sidewalk full of too many busy pedestrians.
“We’ll take that bitch back to where she belongs,” the taller one vowed.
“Damn straight,” the other said.
I furrowed my brow, dropping into a jog when they headed toward a car. Chasing after them on foot wouldn’t be possible now. I had to retreat to where I’d parked.
Pretending to trip on the curb, I bumped against their car and fell, looking like another homeless person.
“Watch it, you filthy motherfucker,” one of the Ilyins said, kicking at me while I was down on the pavement. “Goddamn beggars. Get the hell away from me.”
I rolled to dodge his boot hitting my face, but before I pretended to struggle getting on my hands and knees, I quickly leaned in to stick a magnetic tracking device on the underside of their car.
Got you now.
They could drive away and I’d have a bead on their path.
Once I groaned and crawled upright, they sped off. I glanced over my shoulder to see if they were out of sight, and then I dropped into a sprint for my SUV a couple of blocks over.
This still might be a dead end. It might be a fool’s errand. Maybe they were talking about someone else.
Deep in the pit of my stomach, I felt a sickening hunch that they were racing to get to Sonya and teach her that lesson about running away from them.
Call it intuition. Perhaps I was motivated to follow nothing more than wild speculation. But there was not a chance in hell that I’d stop and reconsider hurrying toward this safehouse—just in case Sonya was the escapee they’d managed to reclaim.