Chapter Three
It had been a long but successful day. Dinah’s feet were hurting, and all she wanted to do was get home, make some food, and curl up on the sofa. Tomorrow was Sunday, and that was her rest da y— a day where she could do some research, read about any upcoming products she might be interested in, clean, or watch television. She never went anywhere on a Sunday. When her mother was alive, it was the day they shared together, and Dinah had kept it sacred.
Putting her key in the lock, she tensed up as the door to her home simply opened.
This wasn’t good. She had locked her door that very morning, and she didn’t even have to second-guess herself.
Reaching into her bag, she grabbed the pepper spray, and in the pocket of her skirt was the blade she kept at all times. Her mother had taught her to arm herself, to always be prepared for the monsters that lurked outside, waiting to strike.
She didn’t even think to call the cops. They would never come. She knew firsthand they didn’t come until you told them to.
Dinah closed the door behind her and kept her back against it. She didn’t want to move. It was strange, death was not something she thought she feared, but right now she did.
All the lights were off in her house.
“You don’t have to be afraid.”
She recognized that voice. It was hard not to, considering less than twenty-four hours ago, he had his hands wrapped around her throat.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked. Stepping back into her sitting room, she found Road sitting in the corner, on her mother’s old chair. “Get out of that chair!”
“No, I rather like it.”
He ran his hands down the arms of the chair, and Dinah saw red. Without even thinking, she charged at him with a scream, and he didn’t have much choice but to catch her as she landed blows to his body. She wasn’t really focusing on where she was hitting, just that she was hurting him, and in the scuffl e— not sure how it happene d— she ended up on the floor with Road straddling her.
It seemed with very little effort on his part, he had her wrists pinned above her head, and she growled her frustration at him.
“Let go of me,” she said, wriggling beneath him.
“No, I don’t think so. I’d like to keep my eyes, and what remains of my face, intact.”
“Then you should have thought twice about breaking into a person’s home and ruining their property.”
“The chair is a piece of shit. I actually sat in the one chair I didn’t think you’d care about.”
“That was my mother’s chair,” she said, lifting up and straining against his hold. “The only one she found comfort in.”
“Oh,” he said.
“Yeah, oh. You can sit in any other fucking chair, but not that one. Never that one.” It wasn’t like she was inviting him back into her home, but she had a horrible suspicion he might see it as that.
The fight went out of her, and he stared down at her.
“Get off,” she said.
“I don’t know, I’ve got another question for you.”
“Uh, you think you’re in a position to ask questions?” she asked.
“I’m in a much better one than you.”
“You break into my home, and you’ve attacked me twice.”
“Technically, I’ve attacked you once. All I’ve done is … handle you.”
“Handle me?”
“Yeah, I kind of feel you needed handling.”
She felt a quick, sudden desperate urge to either head-butt him, or throw her weight so he had no choice but to back off. Instead, she laid perfectly still on the floor and glared at him.
“Look, it has been a long and exhausting day. I don’t know what you think is funny, but I promise you, none of this is funny. I want you to get off me and leave as soon as possible.”
“I plan to leave you alone. Trust me, I do.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“That is your fault, not mine.”
She growled. “My fault? You’ve come into my home and attacked me and you’re saying this is my fault?”
She wanted to slap him multiple times over. So badly, she even felt her palm tingle at the thought. Of course, she could do neither, because he had her arms trapped on either side of her head. In all her life, she’d never been put in this precarious position. This was infuriating. Admittedly, this was partly her fault seeing as she did attack him. The first time was his fault.
“We’re getting off the point right now.”
“There was a point to be made?” she asked, nearly falling over herself laughing. There wasn’t going to be any falling over, seeing as she was on the ground. Damn it, a day of being on her feet and surrounded by chemicals was starting to affect her mind. She felt a little crazy.
“Sergey Golubev.”
Dinah stared right back at him.
“Ah, you see, you know exactly who I am talking about. You can try to control your face all you want to, but you see, Dinah, you do fail. You know that name, and sure, you might have seen or read about him online or in the news, but this is different. You’re not just recognizing the name, no, this is … rage. You hate that name.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Why don’t you tell me why that is?” he asked.
“Fuck off.”
He tutted. “I can stay in this position all night, and trust me, I’ve got no problem taking a piss where I am.”
“Ew, gross, get off me.”
“Tell me what I want to know.”
“Get off.”
“Now.”
“Stop it.”
She tried to struggle, but he wouldn’t let her go. Dinah didn’t know if it was the long day, the Evil Fallen Bratva, the fact she had heard Sergey Golubev’s name one time too many, or the simple fact that Road had her trapped. Either way, there was only so much she could take.
“Because he killed my mother!” she screamed the words and then felt tears fill her eyes.
Road frowned and she stared up at him. “Is that it? Is that what you want to hear? Yes, I am aware of who Sergey Golubev is, but not for the reasons you think. My mother was…” She stopped to take a breath, “an amazing hairdresser. She took a woman’s hair, be it damaged or not, and she worked magic. She took hair that was dull and lifeless and brought it back to life without any effort. Sergey Golubev brought one of his many mistresses into where my mother worked. I don’t know the full details of what happened, but … her hair was damaged and it was his fault. Anyway, my mother worked on her, and in doing so, she caught his eye.”
She didn’t like having to tell this tale that was a horrible reminder for her mother.
“But my mother … she was still in love with my father, and no man would ever compare to him. She refused Sergey Golubev, and do you know what he did to her?” Dinah asked.
He just looked at her.
Dinah hadn’t been home at the time of the attack. She only called the cops, but then no one had come, just the ambulance. She remembered the confusion in the hospital. It had taken two days before they sent a single cop, a rookie, to go see her.
“He sent one of his soldiers to my mother, and as her punishment for denying him, he cut up her face. Scarred her, so no one would ever want to go to her for hair or beauty again.”
Road stepped away, allowing Dinah to scramble to her feet.
“Yes, I know the name Sergey Golubev because my mom warned me about him. She said if he ever made himself known to me, I was to run as far away and as fast as I could.”
“You’re online in the newspaper,” he said.
“That was Mom’s protection. They wouldn’t help her, but she was determined to help me. She figured he wouldn’t come after me if people knew who I was. I guess it worked, but I don’t think he remembered a woman who … didn’t want him.”
She stared at Road, and waited. Dinah didn’t know what she expected but it wasn’t for him to suddenly get to his feet and leave, as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. She watched him step out of her house, slamming the door as he did so.
Whatever he’d been hoping for, it was unfortunate, as she assumed it wasn’t exactly what he’d gotten.
****
Road knocked back his fourth whiskey in less than ten minutes. It would take a lot to completely knock him off his feet. Right now, he needed the whiskey to numb the words going off inside his head. They needed to be quiet, to shut the fuck up. Damn it.
He didn’t know what he expected.
Actually, now he was hoping Dinah was lying and the truth was, her mother had an affair with Sergey Golubev, and she was the product of that affair. It would be a lot easier.
“You want to tell me what is going on?” Igor asked, coming to take a seat beside him.
“I’m not good company right now,” he said.
“I’m not good company any day, but I think you might be a little easier to handle. Tank wants me to talk him through removing a cock, while keeping a man awake, and allowing him to feel it.”
Road took a deep breath.
“Yeah, trust me, I’ve already gone over the details, but now he wants more information. If the guy thinks he’s going to practice on animals, then I’m killing him. I’m a sick fuck, and I accept that, but no one touches fucking animals,” Igor said, and then took a sip of his beer. “You want to tell me what has gotten you drinking at the bar?”
He knocked back another whiskey and quickly poured himself another.
“Or we could sit in silence.”
Road would much prefer the sitting in silence, but then, he looked toward Igor and wrinkled his nose.
“Nah, do you think it’s possible for the past to catch up with you?” Road asked.
“I think anything is possible. Look at where we fucking are. Our past has certainly caught up with us, which is why we’re all banded together to take out our enemy. Why?”
Not what he was going for, but he wasn’t going to argue with the man.
“You want to tell me why you’re knocking back whiskey like it’s soda?”
Road laughed. “One of the last jobs Golubev got me to do before he took care of my face, was to handle a … woman.”
He poured himself another whiskey. This time, he didn’t knock it back but stared down at the dark liquid.
“He told me she needed to be taught a lesson. That she had attempted to betray him. I thought he wanted her dead, but no, he wanted her … scarred. You see, this woman was a very popular hairstylist and was working her way into becoming a makeup artist as well. She’d gotten quite the reputation, and Golubev didn’t want to ever see her face again, so, to make sure she would never get what she wanted, he ordered me to send a soldier to hurt her. And I did. I sent a man to this woman’s house with the strict instructions to carve her face up, to damage her hair, and make sure she would never work in the beauty industry again.”
“Sounds like something Golubev would do. I have to say what does sound dicey is the whole betrayal thing. He wouldn’t let a piece of ass live if she had betrayed him.”
“I just learned today what this woman had done to him … she denied him. She was still in love with her husband, and no matter what Golubev had to offer, she turned him down flat.” Road knocked back his whiskey and then laughed. “That woman’s daughter was in the clubhouse just last night, wearing curlers. I didn’t trust her so I grabbed her friend, went to her house, and nearly killed her as well.”
“Fuck,” Igor said.
“Yeah, fuck. I gave the order on that woman’s mother, and … I don’t know what happened. She is now where the mother once was.” Only, he had a feeling she was doing a little better than her mother. It also explained why she didn’t call the cops.
Road remembered getting a call from the cop on their payroll, telling them the details. Even the hospital had reported it. To sweep it under the rug, they sent in a rookie. Nothing had come of it. Nothing was ever going to come of it, that was how he worked. Road made bad shit go away.
He didn’t know how he was going to make this go away.
Getting to his feet, he ignored Igor and instead went to Sarge, who had a woman bouncing on his lap.
“Give me your phone,” Road said.
“Dude, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Give it to me.”
Sarge growled, held the woman with one hand, and then reached into his pocket to grab his cell.
Road took it, opened it up with the passcode, and then scrolled through the last Internet searches and came to the conclusion that Sarge was a sick bastard.
Once he found the article they had been trying to show him last night, he read through it, getting the woman’s name. He did a quick search, and found the details of her funeral. Angela Evans had died two years ago. There was no other details, just that she had passed away, and only her daughter, Dinah, survived her.
He did another quick search, hoping to find something that would help him, but it would seem Dinah’s father was a soldier. He died in action when she was a little girl.
Road didn’t like this.
Guilt ate away at him.
He’d been loyal to Sergey, and not for a single second did he think the man would ever use a woman’s choice against her. Running a hand down his face, he glanced through each article and just knew Dinah had done this for her mother. He didn’t know why he knew that.
Where her mother couldn’t obtain any clients, and her career disappeared overnight, Dinah began to train under her.
What the fuck did he do? Less than two weeks after he gave the order, he’d been in a similar predicament. Sergey had done the same to him. And now, he had finally met her daughter.
The order he’d given to the cop was to ignore the young girl, the one who was demanding justice. Never in a million years did he think this was going to happen.