11. Yuri
ELEVEN
Yuri
I don’t know what I expected from her.
She was the one who fondled me, then she threw it back in my face? Fucking teasing cunt.
Maybe it’s a good thing I never got to give her the flowers.
My heart tightens, and the disappointment of that day two years ago stabs me all over again.
I stew for the rest of the way to Winters’ old office. Sierra keeps her hands well above waist level.
I pull into the parking lot of the strip mall. The stores all look run down, and there are barely any other cars parked, but there are open signs on many of the doors.
I glance at the door to the “accounting” firm that served as Winters’ cover. It’s not too far out of town, but definitely farther than I would have wanted to commute to regularly. There must be a reason he chose this location.
Sierra follows suit, walking behind me. She’s tense now, closed off, but despite my anger at her, I wonder if she’s feeling my cum slide out of her tight little hole. “What are we doing here?” she asks. “The feds ransacked the place. There’s nothing left to find. ”
“Kotya thinks there is something. So we will look,” I answer. I push against the door, and I’m surprised that it opens easily.
Apparently somebody forgot to lock up after they searched the place.
The interior is completely trashed. Desk and cabinet drawers have been pulled out, and papers and office supplies litter the floor.
“Close the blinds,” I say to Sierra as I walk deeper into the office.
“You’d think they’d have had the courtesy to clean the place up when they were done,” she says, casting her own glance around. Shaking her head, she goes to the blinds and closes them, cutting off most of the light from the office.
With the outside world safely out of view, I take my helmet off. Sierra does the same. Some of her hair clings to the nape of her neck thanks to the sweat that pooled there.
It’s far too enticing. I swallow the urge to brush her hair aside and kiss that spot again.
“The pigs don’t care.” I peer into one door, which contains a large meeting room. The electronics have been removed, leaving plugged in wires leading to nothing. I don’t notice anything obviously out of place, but I also don’t know what it looked like before.
I move on to the private offices, and I find the one that I assume was Sierra’s father’s. It’s the largest one, and it has seen the most damage. The computer or laptop that must have once been here has been removed.
Sierra follows me inside, and she scowls at the mess. “Why trash the place? They just made it harder to find anything.”
I shrug and bend down to pick up a discarded picture frame. I recognize Winters and a much younger Sierra on it. The older woman next to him must be his wife. There are three young men on the photo as well—a younger Sean, somebody I think must be Kyran, and then another one I don’t recognize. He’s standing next to a pretty red-headed woman, with a girl about four or five between them.
“Who’s this?” I ask Sierra, pointing to the unknown man. “Your cousin? ”
She doesn’t respond. Her eyes are glued on the picture, though, and her eyes are glassy with what I think are unshed tears.
I don’t know what to say to that. I try to pull the picture away, but she reaches out to stop me.
“This is Neil,” she says hoarsely, taking the picture frame from me. “He’s… He was my brother.” She swallows hard, and there’s a distant look on her face as she stares at it. “He’s dead now. Has been for a long time. All of them. His wife, my niece…” She takes a deep, unsteady breath.
Another brother. I wonder what it’s like to lose a sibling, or even a father. I don’t know any of my birth family. I mostly lived in an orphanage, and none of the employees there were too fussed about any of us kids. I aged out at sixteen, and after that… Well, I’m damn glad I found Kotya.
“What happened?” I ask, fascinated by the hurt in her expression.
A shudder runs through her, and she closes her eyes. “They were killed,” she says, her voice flat. “The former Cresci don.” She lets out a bitter little laugh. “The father of my youngest brother’s boytoy. Isn’t it funny how that works out?”
“He took out a child?” I look at the photo again. “And your brother went on to fuck the enemy?”
Sierra nods slowly. “It’s complicated.” She swallows hard, her eyes still tightly squeezed shut. “Silvano Cresci is different from his father. He wouldn’t hurt uninvolved people, especially not… especially not children. When my father died and Sean was sent to jail, Silvano was the one to take over the Winters gang.” Her eyes flutter open, and tears slowly trickle down her cheeks. “I—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “He was supposed to protect us.” She lets out a harsh laugh. “Fat lot of good that did for me, huh?”
I imagine somebody murdering Kotya or Nikolai, and me then casually fucking their son or daughter. But that would never happen. I wouldn’t be able to forgive them, even if they claimed not to have been involved.
“Your brother is a traitor,” I say harshly. “But that seems to run in your family. ”
I know it’s cruel to say it now, of all times, but I can’t help myself. I watch her face, eager to see every little expression, every line of hurt.
She flinches, looking down at the floor as she wipes at her tears. “I guess you’re right,” she says. I can’t read her tone. “I found them,” she says abruptly. “When they… I was the one who walked in on that.”
It takes me a moment to decipher what she’s saying. “You… found their bodies?” I ask.
Sierra nods, swallowing hard. “So much blood,” she mutters, and I don’t think she even realizes she spoke. She turns on her heel, walking toward the wall, and rests her forehead against it.
I liked her smile, when I first saw it. I liked her crying out while we fucked her. I liked her defiant glares.
But this? Her tears, her sorrow? They make something stir inside me that I’ve never felt before.
I go over to her and place my hands on her shoulders. I brush the hair away from her neck and lean down to kiss that spot as I’d wanted to. She smells of the new leather, the bike, and her own natural scent.
How can I be so taken with every single facet of her? She’s just a woman. An attractive woman, but I’ve fucked plenty of those.
She draws me in, and I’m angry at myself for caring so fucking much, yet I can’t stop it.
I give her this comfort I don’t think she deserves, anticipating the moment when she rebukes me.
Her body tenses slightly at first, but then her shoulders slump. “I didn’t mean to say that,” she says, her voice rough. “You don’t have to pity me. Though I guess it’s marginally better than you being an asshole to me.”
“It’s not pity,” I answer. “You were never meant to see such things.”
But I would do it to her too, wouldn’t I? If I had Sean Winters in front of me, I would eviscerate him for everything he put me through.
There’s no point in worrying about that. Her brother is safely imprisoned by the feds. If anybody is going to murder him now, it will be one of the men on the inside, with a makeshift knife.
“No. I wasn’t,” she says. “I was young. It was the most horrific thing I’d ever seen. My niece…” She shudders. “I try to understand Kyran’s choices, I really do. And I do believe that Silvano wasn’t responsible. But he didn’t see them.” She leans against me slightly, and I inhale the scent of her hair.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer against me. A fierce protectiveness I don’t recognize rises up inside me.
No, that’s not true. I do recognize it.
It’s the same way I feel about Kotya and Nikolai—except I know they can take care of themselves. I know they don’t need me to protect them from the world.
I hate this.
She doesn’t deserve these emotions from me.
She’s as terrible as the rest of her family. I know she is.
But that doesn’t make me loosen my hold on her.
Sierra stays there for a long moment, letting me hold her, letting me try to comfort her in a way that feels awkward and strange. “We should… look for things,” she finally says. She starts to turn to face me, and I let her. It leaves us close, and she stares up at me for a moment before pulling away. “Sorry.”
I want to press my lips to hers. I want her to give all her feelings to me, whether it’s happiness or anger or this deep sadness.
I let her go and pace around the office again. “There can’t have been nothing here,” I say, my voice more angry than I intend. “And Kotya is right that this is a strange location to choose. It’s too far away from your house.”
She takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her mussed hair. “I never really thought about it,” she admits. “I mean… I just assumed he didn’t want to bring business home. He was very, very adamant about not mixing the two. Plausible deniability and all, I guess, and my mother—” She cuts herself off and shakes her head. “I don’t know what he’d keep here, though, that the feds wouldn’t have found.”
“Why not in the city then?” I ask. “I assume the accounting firm was a cover for money laundering, but it’s not really a believable multi-million dollar business out here.” I glance toward the front of the building. “At least you don’t have to worry about walk-in clients, I guess.”
Her brow furrows. “You’re right, though. This is an odd location.” She laughs. “If this was a movie or a book or something, there’d be a secret wall or room or a password written on the back of the family photo.”
I look pointedly at the picture frame she’s still holding. She rolls her eyes and pops the back of the frame off.
“Oh, look, a secret code!” Sierra exclaims.
“What, really?” I stalk over and grab the picture from her. All it says, in blue ink, is 3/15/2014.
“No. It’s just the date the photo was taken.” She smirks at me, but the amusement doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “So why did he choose this place?” She bites her lip, tilting her head slightly. “It’s isolated, it’s unassuming… Maybe he just assumed they wouldn’t find it?” Almost immediately, though, she shakes her head. “No, that’s dumb.”
“Maybe your father was dumb,” I answer. I set the photo on the desk, then bend down to check for secret compartments. The only thing in the drawers are office supplies and a screwdriver. There’s nothing obvious on the desk itself, and the carpet doesn’t lift up underneath it either. No secret safe here.
She snorts. “Come on. Let’s try Sean’s office.” She heads in the direction of another door, sighing when she sees the mess that’s been left behind. “For fuck’s sake,” she mutters. “I see why everyone calls them pigs.”
“And just imagine, your American pigs are nicer than the ones in Russia.” I follow her, but the space is just as unassuming—and torn apart—as William Winters’ office.
Sierra walks over to the desk and sifts through some of the mess of papers. She shakes her head, and when I glance at her, she lifts up another frame. “Just a picture of his car.”
“I guess that’s more important than his family.” I push the papers on the floor aside, but I don’t see anything significant underneath.
“Nah. He’s just protective of them. Still,” she says, “he loves… loved that car.” She scans the room, and she lets out a little laugh. “Why the fuck am I helping you with this, anyway?” I’m not sure if she’s asking me or herself.
“What, did the feds take the car, too?” I walk to the walls and knock on them, as if I really expect there to be a secret compartment somewhere. The feds already pulled off all the artwork, and it’s clear there are no secret safes here.
She nods. “Yeah. No telling where they might’ve hid weapons, apparently. They tore everything apart, took everything that could be even remotely useful to their investigation.” Her lip curls in distaste.
“You got to keep the house,” I point out. “Still living in the lap of luxury.”
“Yeah. With the constant reminders of the past all around me,” Sierra says darkly.
I let out a growl of frustration and sit down in the desk chair. I really don’t want all this to have been for nothing. Surely Sean and his father hadn’t commuted out here every other day just for the isolation.
She scans the room again, then looks up. “You think they checked the ceilings?”
I follow her gaze. The ceiling has a stupid popcorn texture, and there’s no obvious change or newly added spots.
“No,” I say curtly. “Would they hide things there?”
Sierra stares at one of the light fixtures. “Well. I remember Sean once hid his porn magazines behind the bedroom ceiling lights.”
I glance over to her. “How do you know that?”
Her cheeks flush pink. “I, ah…” She chuckles, for all that it sounds strained. “I was wondering why his lights looked so weird, and I was curious. I think he forgot they were there, though. They were old.”
They must have been. I can’t imagine buying porn in a magazine—but magazines cost money, and internet porn I could usually find for free. Sometimes I’d get together with other teens in the orphanage and we’d share our best finds. We were probably less into the porn itself and more taken with the subterfuge and the high of doing something the staff disapproved of.
I brush that memory aside and focus on what Sierra said. “So you snooped.”
“Yes,” she says. “I was curious, all right?”
Interesting. I want to know more about that side of her, but we really have been wasting time here. I go to the light fixture and stare up at it. It does have a large enough area that hiding something behind it isn’t inconceivable. “I’ll give you a boost. You can unscrew everything.”
“I’ll need a screwdriver,” she says, her expression inscrutable. “But you probably have one of those with your bike, huh?”
“Yes,” I agree. “Or you can use the one I saw in your father’s desk drawer.”
“Surprised the feds left even that,” she mutters. She disappears from the room, coming back with a screwdriver. “Okay. Lift me up. Let’s see if Sean has learned from his old mistakes.” She smiles, and it’s a little sly, a little mischievous, which isn’t something I’ve seen on her before. “Seeing as how I was a little brat and went and told Pa about it.” Her smile falters. “Got a lecture about snitching, too, though.”
“Because it was none of your business.” I wrap my arms around her thighs and start lifting her. She isn’t as light as I would have thought, but I’m not going to mention that. Kotya could probably lift her without a second thought.
She makes a surprise sound and braces her hands on my shoulders.
“Cut that out,” I growl. “You’ll make me lose my balance.”
“And I’ll fall if I don’t,” she hisses. But she gets her bearings, and despite a little bit of squirming, she straightens up. It takes her a moment of fumbling before she starts working on the first screw, and she says abruptly, “There is something in here. Hang on.”
I grunt in acknowledgement, but mostly I concentrate on holding her as steady as I can .
Of course, her stomach is essentially pressed up against my face, and I resist the urge to nip her skin through the t-shirt. Why had I given her a t-shirt?
She’d look so hot wearing nothing but the leather jacket.
I try not to get distracted, especially when she starts handing me the loosened screws. It takes her a moment, but she carefully lowers the light fixture. It’s still attached by the wires, and she handles it with a light touch.
“Okay,” she says. “I have all of it. Put me down.”
I take a deep breath, then slowly lower her down again. As soon as her feet are on the ground again, she backs away from me.
There are a few things that look like large padded mailer envelopes and a notebook.
She hands one of the envelopes to me, and I realize there’s a zipper at the top. It’s lined with aluminum, protecting the prize inside.
Phones.
“Wow,” I say, pulling one of the phones out. “Burners? Or…” I turn it on, surprised to see that it still has any charge at all.
It’s also not simply a burner phone. There are several numbers saved in the address book. The names look generic, like fast food restaurants and other businesses, but I have no doubt they’re more than just that.
Sierra is flipping through the notebook, brow creased in concentration. “This is like…” She shakes her head. “If I can crack this, I’m in everything .” She barks out a laugh. “God, that was dumb. Though I guess Sean had to hide this somewhere.”
“The feds didn’t find it,” I point out, looking back up to the ceiling. “Do we want to check the other light fixtures too?”
“And help you more?” she retorts, but there’s no venom in her voice. She sighs. “Yeah, may as well. We got lucky that this was in the first one, but there’s no telling what he shoved into the others.”
We end up checking all of the fixtures. We find more phones, a few fake passports, and a whole lot of cash. I count at least 100k in there.
“No guns, though,” I mutter .
“Probably were afraid that much metal would set off detectors,” she says. She stares down at the loot we’ve acquired from the place. “It still doesn’t explain why they felt the need to come all the way out to the middle of nowhere to work, but maybe the feds found something incriminating that we don’t know about out here.”
“Or it’s not here , but near here.” I peek out the window to the concrete parking lot. “Pretty close to the mountain hiking trails.”
Sierra joins me and scowls. “Or you drive twenty minutes in the other direction to all the old slaughterhouses.” She pauses, then shrugs. “Either way, it might be in this notebook.” She holds it up, saying sardonically, “I doubt the code is anything too sophisticated. Sean had to understand it, after all. I wonder…”
I wait for her to continue, but she only shakes her head.
“Never mind.”
I do another sweep of the place, but I don’t notice anything obvious. If there was more here, the feds really have taken it.
“We take this back to Kotya,” I say, packing up our finds. “I guess we can tell him you aren’t just a hole to be filled.”
I don’t know why I said that, except that I still can’t look at her without my emotions roiling inside me.
Sierra glares at me. “I shouldn’t have told you a fucking thing,” she mutters. “You’re such an asshole. Every time I think you might be halfway decent, you say some shit like that.”
“Good thing I don’t care what you think about me,” I snap back. I don my helmet and storm out to the motorcycle.
She follows me, and I don’t even care that she’s seething.
Even the ride back home doesn’t improve my mood, though.