21. Preacher
21
PREACHER
"H e’s really down there?”
“That’s what they tell me.”
“And he’s alive and well?”
“Won’t know for sure until we get down there.” Seven seemed hesitant, so I asked, “You good?”
“No, but I’m here.” He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Time to see what we’re dealing with.”
“Agreed.” I turned to Grim and Memphis as I asked, “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
I opened the door, and they all followed as I made my way down the basement stairs. I was still doing what I could to shake off the lack of sleep, and it wasn’t easy without my daily pint of coffee. I didn’t let it slow me down, though. I was eager to get this thing done, so I’d called the boys in early and had them meet me at the main house.
I’d done my best to fill them in on everything that had gone down, but even I had my questions on how we’d gotten to this point. It was a lot. But we had a plan. It was a good plan. We just needed things to fall into place, and for that to happen, we would need Rooks to piece it all together.
We were halfway down the steps, when Memphis leaned in and asked, “You good?”
“Been better.”
“It’s all right. We’re not gonna let anything happen to your girl.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.”
Memphis nodded, and we continued down the steps.
When we reached the basement, Sergei and his brothers were waiting for us. Sergei motioned his head towards the back as he said, “He’s in there.”
“You keeping him locked in the damn wine cellar?” I muttered.
“Guest quarters,” Sergei corrected. “Well, they used to be. It’s been modified, but not unbearable.”
I gave him a look but didn’t question him. I just held back with Seven and Grim, watching as Sergei walked over and unlocked the door. I half-expected to find Rooks chained to a pipe in the dark, half-dead and pleading for his life, but when Sergei unlocked the door and pushed it open, I stopped short.
The room was nicer than ours over at the clubhouse. There was a big bed and a small sofa facing a giant flat-screen TV, and there was an adjoining bathroom. Hell, it even had its own mini fridge in the corner.
Rooks was sitting on the sofa, and he was dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt. He was sporting a lengthy beard, some old bruises, and his arm was in a sling, but other than that, he looked in pretty good shape.
I could hear Seven behind me as he muttered, “What the fuck?”
Rooks stood and a scowl marked his face as he growled, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Wondering what the fuck you’re doing still alive and breathing,” Seven grumbled.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I definitely am,” Seven snapped. “I would’ve thought Sergei would’ve given you what you had coming.”
“Alright, ladies,” I interrupted. “That’s enough of that. We’ve got business to attend to.”
“What kind of business?” Rooks spat.
“We have a job for you to do.”
“Oh?” His cocky grin faded just a bit. “And what makes you think I’ll do anything for you assholes?”
“Because helping us is your only shot at walking out of this house alive.”
There was no missing the hope in his voice as he asked, “You mean that?”
“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”
“Okay, what do you need?”
“Let’s move this upstairs.”
Sergei nodded, and he and Viktor took Rooks by the arm, leading him out of the room. We all followed them upstairs and into Sergei’s office. Sergei took him over to the table where he had Rooks’ computer and all the files Shep had gathered on Vasili.
Rooks turned on his laptop while Seven stood behind him, watching him like he wanted him to step out of line. But Rooks wasn’t that stupid. He knew if he fucked up, Seven would put a bullet in his head.
Rooks glanced up at me and Sergei as he asked, “So, what do you want me to do?”
“We need access to Vasili Volkov’s financials,” I answered. “We need them all. every shell account, offshore transfer, or possible front business. Whatever dirt you can dig up.”
“Okay, what kind of dirt am I looking for?”
“He’s Russian mafia.” Rooks’ eyes widened. “We think he’s working under the table. We want proof.”
“Alright then.” Rooks leaned forward and started typing away. “I can do that, but I’m gonna need something in return.”
“You’re in no position to negotiate.”
“I am if you want it fast,” Rooks countered.
“You’re pushing, asshole.”
“I just want a chance to talk to Tallie. I need a chance…”
“No fucking way,” Seven roared. “She’s just now starting to put all your bullshit behind her. No way I’m gonna let you fuck her up again.”
“I can’t take knowing that I hurt her again, and I just want a chance to make things right.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you had her father killed.”
“He was my father, too.”
Seven’s eyes narrowed as he growled, “That’s not helping your case.”
“You can write a letter,” I suggested. “Seven can read it when your done and decide if he wants to give it to her.”
“You good with that?” When Seven nodded, Rooks let out a breath and said, “I need the Wi-Fi password.”
Sergei wrote it down and slid it over to him, and that was it. Rooks took everything Shep had found and used it to dig even further. One hour rolled into the next, and he kept at it. Grim and Seven hovered over him, watching and waiting.
Sergei had one of the servants bring us food and drinks, but he and his brothers never left. None of us did. We didn’t trust him, not for a second, but I couldn’t deny the kid had a gift.
He dug deeper than most would dare. Through shell corps and blind accounts, through a wall of Russian smoke and mirrors, and just as the sun started to set, he leaned back and let out a breath. “I got him.”
We all stood and gathered around him. Sergei was the first to ask, “What did you find?”
“He’s been laundering through an international shipping company. It’s registered in Cyprus and operates out of Rotterdam. He’s masking the transfers as transport fees.” Rooks sounded sure of himself as he announced, “He’s been moving funds into a private account in Dubai. Not a Volkov family account. His personal one.”
Sergei stepped forward, and there was no missing the hope in his voice when he asked, “You’re sure?”
“Oh, I’m positive. Hell, look for yourself.” He turned the laptop so we could see. “No Bratva clearance. He’s pulling money off the books, and he’s been doing it for at least a year.”
“I’ll be damned. You actually did it.”
“So, what now?”
Rooks turned to me. “You guys gonna lock me back in that damn basement?”
“For now.” I crossed my arms. “Once we verify what you found, we’ll work something out.”
“Damn.”
“Think of it this way… Now, you’ll get your chance to write that letter.”
Rooks looked between us, trying to decide if we were completely full of shit or if he really did have a chance to finally get out of the basement. Growing impatient, Sergei stepped behind him and ordered, “Let’s go.”
Rooks hesitated, but this time, he didn’t mouth off.
He just stood and followed Sergei to the door. Sergei motioned to one of the guards and ordered him to return Rooks to his room. Rooks paused in the doorway and looked back at Seven. “I meant what I said. I really am sorry. I know I can’t, but I’d like to try and fix things. At the very least make them better. For Tallie, Ford, and for you.”
“This is a start.”
He nodded and disappeared into the hallway.
Seven didn’t say anything, but I caught the way his shoulders dropped just a little. Grim glanced over at me and gave a barely-there nod, confirming what I’d hoped for.
We had what we needed to take Vasili down.
Sergei came over to me and said, “I have a contact with the Bratva. He’s not at the top, not even close, but he has the means to get the information to Andrei Vetrov, the Obshchak.”
“Who the hell is that?”
“Think of him as the treasurer of the family. He oversees all the money and handles everything that goes along with it, including dealing with those who step out of line. I’ve only met him once, but it was enough. I’d never want to cross him.”
“And if this Vetrov guy doesn’t bite?”
“Then, we kill Vasili on our own and stage his death to look like something else—a cartel hit or an accident. Something messy but believable.”
“Yes, that could work.”
Sergei nodded, then dialed the number. Seconds later, a voice with a thick Russian accent came across the speaker, “Sergei. Been awhile.”
“Yes, it has. Hope you’re doing well.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” Realizing something was up, he asked, “Why do you call? Someone dead?”
“Not yet,” Sergei told him. “But I got something you’re gonna want to see.”
“I’m listening.”
“Not something I can discuss over the phone.” Sergei glanced over at me as he continued, “I’ll send you a copy by messenger. You should have it by morning.”
“What’s this about?”
“You’ll see in the morning.”
“Now, I’m intrigued.”
“Call me as soon as you get it.”
With that, Sergei ended the call. He tossed his phone on the desk before walking over to me and the boys. “I’ll make a copy and get it sent over.”
“Good. Let’s call it a night, and we’ll be back in the morning.”
“Sounds like a plan.” When we started for the door, Sergei called out, “Preacher?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. Thank all of you.” There was no missing the emotion in his voice as he added, “We wouldn’t get through this thing without you.”
“Glad we could help.”
“I know it means a great deal to Mother as well.”
“And she means a great deal to me, so it all evens out.” I gave him a nod and continued out of the office as I said, “We’ll see you in the morning.”
Grim, Memphis and Seven followed me outside, and once we were out to their bikes, Seven asked, “What are they gonna do about Rooks?”
“Not my call to make.” I could tell he didn’t like my answer, so I added, “Things have a way of sorting themselves out. You’ll see.”
“Yeah, I’m not holding my breath.”
“You heading back?” Memphis asked. “Or are you staying?”
“Staying. I’ll get one of the prospects to bring me over a change of clothes or something later.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Memphis offered. “Anything else?”
“Not yet, but we’re gonna need the club to be ready in case things go south. I’ll be there first thing in the morning for church. Pass the word.”
“You got it.” Memphis kicked his leg over the seat of his Harley. “Give Tabitha our best.”
“Will do.”
I waited until they had both gone down the driveway and out the gate before I started for the barn. I was ready to see her. I hadn’t even had a chance to call or text her all day, and I was eager to see if she was okay.
It was getting dark, but the lights in the stables were still on. I knew she would be there, and just as I expected, I spotted her in the first stall.
She was brushing one of the horses and singing softly under her breath. Her sleeves were rolled up, and her hair was pulled back in one of those messy buns. Damn. The woman couldn’t have looked more beautiful.
She didn’t see me at first. She was too lost in her thoughts, and even with Sergei’s guards stationed at every damn corner, I still felt the need to get to her and make sure she was okay.
I didn’t say her name. I just stepped into the barn, and it was as if she felt my presence and whipped around. Her eyes were wide like she hadn’t expected anyone, but relief washed over her the second she saw it was me.
She stood frozen as she asked, “Well?”
“You were right.” I opened the stall door and stepped inside. “Vasili was dirty.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah.” I continued over to her as I explained, “We got the proof, too. There’s no talking around it. Vasili is done.”
She stared at me for a beat, like her mind was trying to catch up with what her heart already knew. Then she let out a breath, and in a blink, she was in my arms.
No hesitation.
No questions.
She just wrapped her arms around my neck and held onto me as tight as she could. After a few seconds, she looked up at me and pressed her lips to mine, kissing me with everything she had. And hell, I kissed her back, long and hard.
I didn’t give a shit that we were in a dusty barn or that her hands smelled like horse and feed. It didn’t matter.
Nothing did.
Not the Bratva. Not Vasili.
Not the years she’d spent surviving instead of living.
She would have her happy ending, even if it meant sacrificing my own to make sure she got it.