28. Maksim
Maksim
My phone vibrates in my pocket while Damien is telling me about the new liquor provider. As usual, Damien did his thing and negotiated a better price.
Things are slowly getting back on track. I’m hoping Arlind finally understands I’m not fucking around. I gave him money. This beef is over. I have the power of the bratva behind me. His shitty little operation will not intimidate me. He can have thousands of women, but Lila is mine.
I check the screen and see it’s Cinder. That’s another problem I need to deal with. Cinder and I have our little spats, but she doesn’t approve of my situation with Lila.
“What’s up?” I answer.
“Haylie is gone.”
“Gone?”
“Housemother went to check on her for the evening brief. Room’s empty. Bag’s gone. Phone’s here.”
A phone left behind means she didn’t want to be tracked. Or she couldn’t take it.
“How long?”
“Best guess, two to three hours. No one saw her leave.”
I press two fingers against the bridge of my nose. “Pull every camera on the block. Check the ride-share apps. Talk to every woman in that house.”
“Already doing all of that.” A pause. “Maksim.”
“Don’t.”
“Someone got to her. Or she ran because she was scared enough that running made more sense than staying.” Another pause, longer this time. “You know what this is.”
I do. Haylie doesn’t go anywhere without her phone.
“Get everyone looking,” I say. “Every contact, every friend, every place she’s mentioned more than once.”
“I’ve got people on it.” I hear her exhale. “You need to come here.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
I hang up and turn back to Damien. He reads my face and closes the folder in his hand.
“Who?” he asks.
“Haylie.”
“Shit.”
We’re thinking the same thing. Another woman killed? Or was she working with them?
I can’t trust anyone, and I hate it.
Cinder is waiting on the front steps with her arms crossed over her chest when we pull up.
I walk up the steps. “Talk.”
She falls into step beside me as we go inside. The house is quiet. The women who are still here have retreated to their rooms. I feel the tension. These houses usually have music playing, and the general conversations you’d expect from a house full of women.
This is not normal.
“Housemother did the six o’clock check. Everyone was accounted for. At seven-thirty, she went back to Haylie’s room because Haylie missed dinner and she was worried.” Cinder leads me up the stairs. “This is what she found.”
She pushes open the door.
Haylie’s room looks normal. Everything is too neat.
The bed is made. Her personal items are gone from the vanity, but her phone sits on the nightstand like she placed it there on purpose.
It’s the phone I provide for each woman to contact their clients.
Clients are never given their personal numbers, and the phones can be easily tracked.
I open a few drawers. There are some clothes, but not a typical wardrobe.
“She wanted us to know she left,” I say.
“Or she wanted whoever took her to think she left willingly.” Cinder stops in the doorway. “We don’t know which.”
I turn to look at her. “Your gut?”
“She was scared enough to run.” She holds my gaze. “Which means someone got to her. Convinced her that staying here was more dangerous than leaving.”
“Arlind.”
“Who else?”
I move to the window and look down at the street.
“I want to know where she went,” I say. “Not to bring her back; I need to know she’s safe. Have you called her? Not our phone, but hers.”
“No shit,” Cinder snaps. “Obviously.”
“Just asking.”
“I know.” Cinder’s voice shifts slightly. “Maksim, you need to think about what you’re doing.”
“I’m very aware of what I’m doing.”
“Every time you hit him, he hits back. And he’s not hitting you.
He’s hitting the people around you because he knows that hurts you more.
” She spreads her hands. “Is this going to stop? I need to know. The women in this house need to know. They need to decide if staying is worth the risk, and they can’t make that decision if I can’t give them an honest answer. ”
“I’m handling it.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I am.”
“Maksim, is she worth it? All of this. Is one woman worth what this is costing?”
Something cold and possessive moves through me.
I look at Cinder and try my best to remember that I love her like a sister. She holds my glare, which takes more nerve than most people have. She isn’t afraid of me. She knows I would never hurt her.
But she is pushing me right up to the fucking edge.
“Be very careful,” I say quietly. “You’re talking about my wife.”
Anger flashes through her eyes.
“I know who I’m talking about,” she says.
“Then you know the answer to your question. Get me something on Haylie’s location. Tonight.”
Damien drives me home. I sit in the back and stare at nothing for twenty minutes. He doesn’t attempt conversation, and I’m grateful.
I go inside and find Lila in the kitchen.
She’s standing at the counter in her riding clothes, still dusty from the stables, with a glass of water in her hand. She turns when she hears me come in. She’s been crying. Her eyes are swollen, and her lashes are still damp. She’s put herself back together, but not completely.
The guard had texted me from the clearing. She’d needed space, so I’d let her have it, but I’d had eyes on her the whole time. When Cinder called, I couldn’t take the risk and had her pulled back to the house.
“You’re home early,” she says.
“I am.”
She knows I’m not telling her everything. “What happened?”
I pull out a stool at the island and sit. “One of the women left the Brickell house. We’re not sure where she went.”
“Left, or was taken?”
“That’s the question.” I rub my jaw. “My gut says she ran. Someone scared her badly enough that she packed up and walked out.”
“Arlind.”
“Probably.”
Lila sets her glass down carefully. “Is she in danger?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ve got people looking.” I meet her eyes. “I’m not panicking yet. She’s smart. She’s been in this world long enough to know how to disappear if she needs to. All the women who work in this business are savvy.”
She nods slowly. “Do they run away often?”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t say often, but they do move on. Some decide they don’t want this life anymore. Others get into trouble and run.”
“Are you okay?” she asks.
The question catches me off-guard. She’s not thinking about what this means for her safety; she’s worried about how I’m holding up.
“I’ve had better evenings,” I admit.
She moves around the island and stops in front of me, placing her hand over my heart.
I cover her hand with mine, and we stay like that for a minute.
“You’ve been crying,” I say.
“I’m fine.”
“I know you’re fine. That’s not what I said.”
“The photograph. It...” She searches for the word. “It opened something up.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you would want it.”
“I did,” she says. “I haven’t allowed myself to think about any of that. And it just kind of hit. She deserved to be cried over.”
“I’m here for you.”
She exhales slowly. “I’m hungry, and I need to not think about any of this for an hour. Can we do that?”
I look out at the pool through the back glass. It’s a warm evening. Hot and muggy.
“Go put your suit on,” I say.
She glances at the pool and then back at me. “Yeah?”
“Unless you want to go in like that.”
She almost smiles. “Give me five minutes.”
I quickly change out of my clothes and into my swim trunks. She looks me up and down. I see the desire in her eyes.
“Come on,” I say.
I jump in while she goes to the steps and creeps in. Once submerged, she kicks up her feet and settles in to float on her back with her arms out and her face turned toward the sky.
I swim a slow lap and come back. She’s still floating, with her hair spread out around her in the water.
“She was beautiful in that picture,” she says to the sky.
“She was.”
“I look like her.”
“You do.”
She rights herself, treading water. “I used to think she was weak. For years. I was so angry at her for the way we lived.” She looks at her hands beneath the surface. “I didn’t understand.”
“You were a kid.”
“I was a shitty kid sometimes.”
“You were a kid,” I say. “Kids are shitty.”
“I know, but I think most kids get the chance to apologize,” she says.
“Some do. I think we have to believe our parents know we loved them.”
She swims toward me. I open my arms and pull her against me. She wraps her legs around my waist, and we bob up and down in the water.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “You’ve had a rough day.”
“Honestly, I feel better. I’ve been spending way too much energy trying not to think about her. I just have to deal with it and move forward.”
“I’m here for you. If something feels too much or too hard, let me know.”
“Thank you.”
For a few minutes, floating in the water with Lila in my arms, I almost forget that the war is still coming.