Chapter Eight
Igor
The smell of gunpowder clings to the air, mixing with burnt rubber and gasoline until every breath tastes like metal.
The ringing in my ears has faded, replaced by the sharp chorus of shouted orders, screeching tires, and groans from wounded men scattered across the highway.
One of the escort SUVs sits at an odd angle several yards away, its front end wrapped around the concrete barrier after taking one of the motorcycles head-on.
Sergei is already coordinating the perimeter, barking rapid-fire instructions into his radio while the others sweep the area for any remaining threats.
“It’s all clear, boss,” Sergei says.
“And our attackers?”
“They’re all dead,” he answers.
My fists clench, my nostrils flaring with rage that could drive me to insanity if I let it. I wanted one of those fuckers alive. Then I could’ve tortured the bastard and gotten information about who the hell set up this fucking ambush.
The last call I received was from Joaquin. He’s the one who invited me to the port, but he wouldn’t be stupid enough to set up an open attack on me.
It has to be someone else. Someone close enough to know my plans, someone who hates my alliance with the Mexicans.
I glance at the woman sitting on the asphalt several feet away.
Audrey.
She’s pale. Too pale.
She shouldn’t be sitting on the side of a goddamn highway covered in blood. She should be home, safe, and far away from this underworld bullshit.
I shouldn’t have allowed her to come with me tonight. She’s stubborn, but I should’ve insisted on not bringing her along.
Her white dress is now a dark shade of red with white spots. The medic kneels in front of her, speaking in a calm voice I can’t hear over the blood pounding in my ears. Her left arm hangs awkwardly against her side, and every time she tries to move it, her face twists with pain.
A surge of rage tears through me.
I’m not even mad at the bikers or whoever put them up to this.
No.
I’m mad at myself for not protecting her better. I’m mad at myself for almost losing her after finally finding her again.
I should’ve seen them sooner.
The motorcycle stayed with the convoy for almost six blocks, long enough for me to notice and prevent any of this from happening. Instead, I almost watched my wife die right before my eyes.
A dull throb pulses beneath my ribs with every heartbeat. The bullet only grazed me, but it left enough of a wound to remind me how close I came to losing her.
“Take care of this mess,” I order Sergei. “Make sure it doesn’t get to the news, and the cops don’t get involved. Then find out who the hell is behind this.”
Sergei’s eyes move to my side. “Boss, you’re bleeding. You need to get checked.”
I ignore him and cross the distance between us in a handful of strides. Sergei falls in step behind me.
The medic reaches for Audrey’s arm again, and she flinches.
“Touch her carelessly one more time and you won’t have hands any longer.”
The man startles, immediately pulling his hands back. “Sir, I have to examine—”
“I said watch it,” I bark. I’m definitely overreacting, but seeing her in pain feels like a stab to my heart.
I’ve killed many men. I’d never hurt a woman, but I’ve seen countless ones get hurt, and none of them have ever made me feel so protective.
The medic’s throat bobs. “I’ll be careful.”
Audrey lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. They’re glassy from pain, but somehow she still manages to glare at me.
“How are you feeling?”
She smiles weakly. “I’ve had worse.”
I don’t smile back. “No, you haven’t.”
She’s trying to be brave. Trying to convince herself the pain isn’t as bad as it is, or maybe she’s simply refusing to give me the satisfaction of seeing her break.
Either way, I hate seeing her in this much pain.
“You got hurt because of me. I’m sorry.”
Her eyes widen, her jaw dropping open. “What?”
I swallow hard. I’ve never said those words to anyone before, not even the pakhan. Even I am surprised at how easily they roll off my tongue. “I’m sorry.”
She just blinks at me for a moment, clearly confused. “Well, this wasn’t really your fault.” She pauses and winces. “Anyway, I wonder how you’re going to make up for this.”
“Name what you want. Anything at all and I’ll do it. Just don’t ask me to divorce you,” I add quickly. “Because that’s not an option.”
Her smile grows wider. I would smile back if I couldn’t see the pain hidden beneath it. “I’ll have to think of something. Don’t blame me if I ask you for a mansion or a Rolls-Royce.”
“All you need to do is ask, and it’s yours.” I mean it. I’d buy her anything she asks for.
“And what if it’s your heart I want?”
The question hits harder than it should.
I could give her anything. A facade of happy marriage. Sex. Kids. Money. Protection. It’s true we have insane chemistry, which I believe she confused for love when she confessed her feelings a year ago.
But my heart is off-limits.
It’s the only thing I can’t give her.
“Choose something else.”
***
Audrey’s asleep by the time we get home. I carry her up to our bedroom, careful not to wake her up.
She stirs in her sleep as I put her down, and a smile pulls the corner of my lips when her thick, dark lashes flutter. Some of her loose, brown hair falls over her face, and I tuck it behind her ear.
God, she’s beautiful, even when she sleeps.
Even after a traumatic night.
I’m going to find whoever was behind this, and I’m going to make him wish he never pulled this stupid ass plan on me tonight.
It’s only after I throw the covers on Audrey and press a kiss to the top of her head that the wound in my side starts throbbing, probably due to the adrenaline fading away now that we’re both safe.
Taking my phone from my pocket, I text Sergei.
Me: Come to the guestroom.
He texts back immediately.
Sergei: Yes, boss.
I take one last glance my wife, satisfied when I see the rise and fall of her chest as she sleeps peacefully, and then I leave the room. I’m barely halfway down the hallway that leads to the guestroom when Ruslan calls my name from the stairs.
“Igor.”
Halting, I turn around to face my brother, who’s running up the stairs, completely flushed with panic. “I’m still alive.”
He steps into the hallway and his eyes widen when they meet my bloodstained white shirt. “What the fuck happened?”
“There was a suspicious shipment at the port tonight. Joaquin alerted me. Long story short, we were ambushed on our way to Montero.”
His brows crease with a deep frown, and his eyes are red with murderous rage. “Someone did this on purpose. They lured you out to try to kill you.”
I nod. “I figured that out already, but it’s now a question of who would be stupid enough to do that?”
He taps his temple thoughtfully, then sighs. “We’ll figure that out later. Let’s get you stitched up first.”
We make our way to the bathroom in the guestroom.
Ruslan pulls out a first aid kit from under the counter, then disinfects my wound and wraps a bandage around my ribs. Luckily, it was only a graze and the blood’s pretty much clotted, so there’s no need for stitches.
“Are you okay?” Ruslan asks, staring at me with concern after he secures the bandage.
I shake my head. “She got hit.”
“Who? Audrey?”
I nod, turn around, and clench the edge of the sink. The rage I managed to suppress earlier starts creeping back in. “I swear I’ll kill those fuckers when I find them.”
My brother lets out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t think Joaquin is behind this?”
“No way. He’s a cunning son of a bitch, but playing front man while laying down an ambush isn’t his style. I need to speak to the Mexicans, see if they can give me some intel on what went down tonight.”
A knock on the door has both of us turning our heads at the same time. I yell for whoever it is to come in and Sergei walks in, holding my other phone, the one I use for business calls only.
“It’s Joaquin.”
I take the phone from him and press it to my ear.
“Nazarov,” Joaquin says over the phone, his voice a little louder than I can tolerate. “I heard about the ambush. I was worried you’d be dead by now.”
My fingers tighten around the phone and I scoff. “Who’s behind it?”
“I don’t know, but I have my men on it already. I’ll let you know when I have more information.”
Of course he will. He seems to be forgetting that whoever set the ambush used him to lure me out of the house tonight. I’m used to assassination attempts and everything that follows them, but what I’m not used to is almost having my wife killed.
“I’ll be at your place in an hour. You better have something useful by the time I arrive.”
He starts to say something, but I don’t wait for it. I end the call and toss the phone to Sergei.
“You can’t possibly be thinking of going to Joaquin’s casino. You can’t trust that fucking bastard,” Ruslan says.
“I don’t give a shit. Only the Mexicans knew I was heading to Port Montero. If someone gave out that information, it has to be one of them.”
I start to make my way out of the guestroom, but my brother steps in front of me. “I’ll go. I’ll find out who was behind the hit.”
“No.” But he’s right. Despite our alliance, the Mexicans can’t be trusted, and I’d never risk sending him there alone tonight. “I’ll handle it.”
Seeing he can’t convince me, my brother gives in with a sigh. “Fine, but I’ll come with you.”
I don’t argue.
Ruslan might be my younger brother, but he’s stubborn as fuck. Once he makes up his mind there’s no changing it, and he’s fierce when it comes to protecting his own.
All our lives, we’ve had each other’s backs more than anyone else ever has.
***
It’s almost midnight by the time we make it to Joaquin’s casino.
It’s a Friday night so the whole place is crowded, fogged with smoke and stinking of cigars and weed.
The music blaring through the speakers irritates my already sensitive ears, but I ignore it as one of Joaquin’s men escorts me and Ruslan to his office.
I left Sergei at home to make sure Audrey’s safe in my absence.
After what happened tonight, I imagine she’ll be terrified if she wakes up to no familiar faces around her.