Chapter 5
There’s a single man standing outside the warehouse doors. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans with black boots. His hands are folded in front of him, and his shoulders are rolled back.
If he’s trying to look intimidating, he’s missing the mark. He’d be better suited for guarding a dance club line than this place, but it’s good for me so I’m going to withhold judgment.
He eyes me as I pull up close to the door, but he doesn’t make any move toward me when I cut the engine.
After a short pep talk, I pop my door open, grab my jacket, and climb out.
“Hey.” I smile at him while stuffing my arms into my coat and zipping up. It’s cold tonight, but my blood is running hot and there’s already a thin veil of sweat covering my back.
“I’m meeting Janis.” I stuff my hands into my pockets, wrapping my hand around the small switchblade Ivan gave me for my eighteenth birthday.
I doubt he had this sort of situation in mind when he gave me the piece.
“Anyone with you?” He ducks his head, trying to see into my car.
“No. Just me, no plus one.” I tighten my smile.
His beady eyes narrow on me, then he scans me up and down as though he’s some sort of robot with x-ray vision.
“It’s really cold out here, can we go inside?” I gesture toward the door and breeze past him. He puts his arm out to block me from grabbing the handle.
“I need to check you first.” He pushes his chest up against me. His hot breath wreaks of pepperoni and onions.
“Check me for what?” I turn toward him and tilt my head with my brows pulled tight.
“Weapons.”
“Weapons? For a conversation?” I laugh. “Okay, fine.”
I step back and unzip my coat. Lifting up my sweater, I show him my empty waistband. “See, nothing.”
He reaches for me, like he’s going to pat me down.
“Are your hands warm? I really hate being cold.”
He stares at me a second.
“Seriously, I only need two minutes with Janis. I have a business proposition, why would I bring anything stupid like a gun with me?” I bat my eyes a little, hoping I’m not laying it on too thick.
He pulls back, frowning, but after a second, he nods.
“Let’s go.” He yanks open the door, and a blast of heat welcomes us.
Internally, I let out a sigh of relief and follow him across the threshold where we’re greeted with another security guard. This one has a raised scar across his left cheek and what I think is another scar from a bullet hole in his neck.
“Did you check her?” He stands in front of me, blocking my way while he asks the first guy.
“She’s fine.”
“Fucking idiot. Always check.” Without so much as a hello, he grabs me and shoves my coat out of the way as he starts feeling his way around my waist.
“Hold on a second.” I try to twist away, but it’s too late. He’s found it.
He slides it from my waistband and brings it in front of my face. Nothing like staring your bad decisions directly in the face.
“Oh, that.” I try to laugh but all I do is huff.
He tucks the gun into his own waistband and grabs hold of me, shoving me against the wall before he starts going through my pockets. He finds the knife and takes it.
“Let’s go.”
“I need that back before I leave.” I tell him as I follow his broad back around the corner to the main area of the warehouse. It’s full of pallets and boxes, obviously not one of the places he uses for his raves.
Janis is shorter than I expected. By a lot.
For some reason I pictured him to be six foot something and built like he lives in the gym. I also thought he’d have a dark beard covering his square jaw, and thick black hair.
I realize in that moment who I’d been picturing. Artem.
Ever since I got that damn text message from him a week ago, he shows up in my thoughts more than ever.
Janis isn’t Artem. This man stands barely over five foot. He has black hair, but it’s slicked back with a thick gel. I’m not sure anyone could run their fingers through it.
“She had this.” The scarred man tattles on me first chance he gets.
“For my own protection, that’s all,” I explain quickly.
Janis stares at me with a raised eyebrow. “Protection? Why do you need protection; you’re the one going around asking questions about me. I don’t know you. How do you know me?”
Yes. Good question.
“Tony DeAngelo.” I blurt out the bastard’s name.
“Tony?” His eyes narrow. “What about him?”
“You had business with him.”
He steps toward me. “What do you know about it?”
I clear my throat. “I know you wanted to expand things, make a move into Chicago, and you needed him.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I was…Tony told me.” He’d had big plans to start his own business. While I was still delusional about how deep in with his brothers he actually was, I believed he was looking to start up a chain of dance clubs. Now I know what he was really doing.
Make another distribution line for his brother’s pleasure houses.
“I was with him before he died. He mentioned the business arrangement he was trying to make with you.”
“How does my deal with him involve you?”
“He also mentioned the girls.” I keep my body still. “I’d like to have them back.”
Janis’ expression goes blank, like it takes him a second to realize what I’ve said. Then he bursts out laughing.
“You want them back?”
“I do.” I dig into my coat pocket and find the envelope Scarman left behind and pull it out. “I can give you a hundred thousand dollars for them. But I want them back, unharmed.”
“Unharmed?” He doubles over. Such dramatics.
“Yes. If you do that, I can help you move into Chicago. The DeAngelos can’t help you now, but there’s another family that can.”
“Oh?” He sobers up. “And who’s that?”
“The Volkovs. But the girls, you have to cut that out. They won’t tolerate that shit.”
He takes a step toward me. “How do you know all these powerful men?”
I try to retreat, but his guard is behind me. I’m sandwiched.
“I told you I was with Tony.”
“Right. But he’s dead now. And you speak of the Volkovs, say you can get me business with them. They are powerful in Chicago. How can you know both of them so well? Who are you?”
And there’s the question I’d hoped to avoid. I’d been betting that he’d be too interested in getting to move on his business deal to realize there was a connection.
“Do you want the meeting or not?” I thrust my chin up. “But the girls have to be released.”
He moves his gaze to the fat envelope in my right hand.
“Your name.” He orders.
“I already told you my name.”
“Your full name. And how you know the DeAngelos and the Volkovs. They hate each other.”
True story. He’s not as stupid as I hoped he was.
When I don’t answer, he flicks his chin toward the security guard who grabs me and wrenches my phone from my pocket. I try to grab it from him, but he draws his gun and points it at me while he hands over the phone to Janis.
Janis peels back the wallet pocket attached to the back of my case and reads the ID inside. Obviously, it was stupid of me to bring it inside. I can hear Artem’s lecture now. I’m too impulsive. I need to think every angle through before I do anything.
I swear he’s worse than Alexander sometimes.
“Elana Volkov.” A smile slithers across his lips as he brings his eyes to mine. “You’re a Volkov. You say you were with Tony…you’re the woman that got him killed.”
“No. I had nothing to do with that.” Tony got himself killed.
“How are you a Volkov, then, if you’re not the sister who was fucking Tony?”
I jerk against the hands holding me, but I’m not going anywhere.
“I can make the same deal, but those women—”
“You want them back so bad, maybe I should bring you to them.” He taps his chin with my phone. “Yeah. Actually, good idea.”
He snatches the envelope of cash from my hands. “You’ll keep them company until I get business done with your brothers. I’ll use this to buy you some nice clothes, get all of you dolled up for the guys.”
Cold trickles through my veins, and for a moment my mind blanks.
“That’s not going to happen.” The icy tone in his voice startles me more than his presence.
Janis’s eyes go wide. Color drains from his cheeks. His cocky demeanor diminishes as he retreats a step.
The guard holding me tightens his grip on me. I’m his shield now, not his captive.
Artem comes into view, his gun pointed at the man holding me.
“You should let her go.”
“You said she was alone.” Janis accuses his man.
“She was.”
I was, at least I thought I was.
“Let her go,” Artem orders again.
His tone is nothing compared to his stone-cold murderous expression.
If I didn’t know him, I’d be terrified right now.
Artem has a reputation. I’ve heard my brothers and the other guys talking about him when they didn’t know I was in earshot.
But I thought it was just talk. Exaggeration, the way men do.
I was wrong.
Two more men step out from behind pallets, their guns already drawn.
My captor uses my own gun to press against my temple.
While my stomach clenches into a pretzel, Artem seems more relaxed than ever.
“Seems you’re a little outnumbered.” Janis sneers. “We were just discussing business, and you’ve interrupted my meeting.”
There’s a pop, then another, and another. The gun against my temple falls away then the man crumbles to the ground at my feet. The other two guards fire, but their aim is way off. Artem’s isn’t. Two more shots and they’re on the ground, too.
Warm liquid drips down my face, through my hair. Blood. I suck in a breath, my heart beating too fast for my lungs to keep up.
Artem moves his aim to Janis. Three more men come running toward us.
“Go.” Artem barks at me, getting in front of me to block me from the guards.
“No. Wait.” I dig out my knife from my captor’s pocket, doing my best not to look at the blood pooling around his head.
Artem growls, grabs hold of me, then shoves me behind him as he fires off more rounds.
There’s a brief pause, and he grunts, but then he continues to fire. I can’t see anything from behind his broad back. He starts moving, and I realize we’re making our way out of the warehouse.
Something buzzes past my ear. A chunk of wood from a nearby pallet flies off and hits my shoulder.
Artem shoves me behind a pallet stacked high with boxes.
“Stay there,” he orders and steps back out into the open.
More shots…three or four. I’ve lost count.
When it’s finally over, between the ringing in my ears and my heart hammering against my ear drums, I don’t understand what Artem’s saying. He must realize I’m lost because he grabs my jacket and pulls me out from behind the pallet.
He wraps his hand around mine, a gentleness in the viciousness of the room.
I’m pulled from the warehouse, having to step over the guard at the door as we leave. He’s not dead, just knocked out. He’s really going to have a surprise when he awakens.
“I have my car,” I say, stupidly as Artem brings me to his.
He opens the passenger door and gestures for me to get in.
“I can drive.” I continue to argue.
Without a word he picks me up and puts me into the car, taking the time to buckle me in. Once I’m secure, he brings his eyes level with mine, concern warring with rage.
He pulls out a handkerchief from the glove department and wipes the side of my face with it. There’s too much blood to be cleaned off with one small rag, though. He frowns.
The car shakes when he slams the door, and I’m left alone for a moment before he climbs in on his side. The ringing in my ears subsides enough for me to hear him on the phone as we pull away from the warehouse.
“Warehouse on Mass. Clean up.” There’s a pause as the other person speaks. “Five bodies, one car.”
“Kaz said there wasn’t anyone here in town.”
He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, speeding down the street.
“Don’t talk. Not yet.”
“But—” I snap my mouth shut when his glare hits me.
I’m not sure I’m out of danger yet.