12. The family
Chapter 12
The family
TOMER
H enderson stands guard in the hallway outside room 107. His expression hardens as we approach, brows bunched in tight.
Aaron and I trade glances, silently wondering what the hell is up with him.
Sawyer doesn’t do anything silently, though. “What’s wrong, sport? You seem confused.”
No clue what that voice was. Just . . . odd. They can’t all be Tyson.
Henderson gestures toward the mask that’s loosely resting on the top of his head.
Ah . Now I see what’s concerning him. Normally, we’d be covered up when taking part in aggressive interrogation tactics. That way, they can’t identify any of us specifically if they decide to run their mouths to the cops. That explains why he was about to pull his balaclava the rest of the way over his face.
“Nope,” I answer. “Not this time. You can take it off.”
His jaw sags. “What the hell? Protocol changes? We don’t give a shit about breaking the law anymore?”
Fair question.
I clap his shoulder. “There’s no way Yev won’t know who we are. Many of my questions will be quite specific. So why hide our faces? When we give him to the cops after we’ve gotten everything out of him, anything he says about how he was handled will be his word against ours. And he’s not all that trustworthy.”
Henderson’s irritation dials back about fifteen percent. “And when he’s bloody, battered, and bruised? That’s just going to be his word against ours too?”
Sawyer walks past him, patting his cheek playfully. “Don’t be silly, Hennessey.Any injuries he may sustain will simply be a result of him resisting capture, which we did as concerned citizens and Good Samaritans.”
With an annoyed grumble, Henderson yanks the black fabric off his head and tucks it into his back pocket. “If I end up in jail, thus abandoning my wife and baby, I’ll be very put out. You hear me? Put. Out.”
A muted chorus of chuckles fills the hallway.
With my back to the door, I face the team. “Everyone knows what the plan is?”
They all nod.
“Let’s go.”
Before I open the door, my hand hovers over the knob for a beat. I attempt to clear my mind and push out most of my hatred of this man. If I see him as the man who hurt my sugar bear, he won’t live long enough to answer questions.
Lettie, Lettie, Lettie.
I force her name through my head on repeat, hoping she can quell my blood lust. For the time being, I’ll attempt to pretend he’s not the man who drugged and did despicable things to her. He’s a tool.
A means to an end.
An informant to get us what we need to get Viktor and the rest of Lenkov’s Bratva.
With a firm grip, I twist the knob and thrust open the door.
The first thing I see is the blue tarp covering the floor. Klein threw that down after he removed all the furniture from the space. He, Mia, and Boss will be watching from the lair. The five of us have our comms on to communicate with the team upstairs.
Yev’s a lump on the floor, facing away from us. His frame stiffens at the sound of our entrance. He’s a large man. Bulky. I suppose he’s intimidating to most people. Not to us, though. After the shit we’ve seen, it’s hard to ruffle our feathers.
His arms and legs are hog-tied behind him, and a sack over his head deprives him of light. I’ve got some headphones we might use to blast some music at deafening levels if we need to wear him down.
I don’t suspect we’re going to get that far, though. I’m betting he squeals like a pig when I start on his feet. Reaching into my back pocket, I pat the cane, enjoying the feel of the coarse wood against my palm.
For this interrogation, we don’t want to leave marks. So I tapped into my vast knowledge from my kink life to come up with ways to make him suffer that won’t give credibility to any complaints he may have about our treatment of him. Some redness and bruising in a discreet area is nothing.
“Yev, it’s time to talk,” I grit out.
“Fuck you,” he seethes, his thick Russian accent evident in the simple curse.
Off to a great start. A wry grin plucks at my cheeks.
It might make me sick, but I want him to resist a bit. I didn’t get to exorcise enough of my demons on him during the capture. After the shit I saw him do to...
Nope. Not thinking about it.
I need him to live.
Time for a reminder, so I internally recite her name like a mantra. Lettie, Lettie, Lettie.
Stomping around the room with intentionally heavy feet, I circle Yev and squat by his face. Shep moves in behind me on one side. Aaron’s on the other. Yev should recognize them from the night of Lettie’s rescue when they jumped him in Yuri’s office to get the location of the trafficking house.
Sawyer lingers near his feet, awaiting instructions.Henderson stays near the door, waiting to be called in as needed. His primary role is to be a foreboding presence.
Before I have the chance to hit Yev with an introductory speech, he spouts off. “Might as well call police. Or kill me. I not tell you damn thing.”
We’ll see about that.
“Do you know who I am, Yev?” I ask, ignoring his declaration entirely.
Shep moves in, putting his booted foot on Yev’s cheek, pressing him into the ground. Not particularly painful, but not pleasant. More demeaning than anything. The head games must start at the onset. The sooner he realizes he’s fucked and accepts his fate, the sooner he’ll start talking about what we care to hear instead of his bullshit assertions.
“Answer him,” Shep snarls, shifting his frame to increase the weight on his foot. “Do you know who he is?”
“Don’t care.”Yev spits in my direction, missing entirely since his face is smashed under Shep’s boot.
Keeping my voice flat and unaffected, I respond, “You should care. Since it was my girl you hurt, I get the honor of deciding if you live or die. And if you die, I’ll determine how painful it will be and what we do to your corpse. You think about that while my friends and I get you ready for round one.”
Shep releases Yev’s head. Standing swiftly, I move beside his lower body.
“Take his shoes off,” I order.
Aaron responds instantly, stripping his feet bare and tossing his shoes and socks into the corner of the room.
Grabbing the juncture of the ropes I’ve tied him with, I yank firmly, tugging him onto his stomach without a trace of gentleness. His legs and elbows stay trussed behind him, making him look like he’s ready to be put on a spit and roasted. I chuckle morosely at the tempting thought.
Apparently, Yev’s not done mouthing off. Not that it matters to me. “Anything you do to me is nothing compared to what they could do.”
Sawyer chuckles and taunts him with a kick to the side of his knee. “You’re wasting your breath, you sick fuck. You should save it. You’ll need it soon enough.”
“That’s right. I brought the gas mask and duct tape,” Aaron tosses.“You’d be surprised how soon someone might want to talk when you put a gas mask on their face and slowly add tape to cover the oxygen holes.”
Once we have Yev in position, I move back to his head and bend so he can see me. I’m also careful to stay out of spitting range. “Listen up, you raping piece of dog shit. My name is Tomer Stillman. You drugged, kidnapped, and assaulted the love of my life. You’re going to pay for that. Once I think you’ve had enough, I’ll start asking you some questions. If you answer them to my satisfaction, I’ll consider letting you live.” I pull the rod out of my back pocket. “Try not to piss on yourself.”
His dark eyes wax over with fear.
“Steady his feet, boys.” I point at Aaron with the tip of the two-foot-long wooden cane, gesturing toward one foot. Then repeat the motion, directing Sawyer to the other. “Hold them out, soles up, giving me a flat surface. Tight grip because this is really going to fucking hurt him, and I bet he squirms like a little bitch. Watch your faces.”
I intentionally bound his ankles into the hog-tie rather than his feet so that I could have access to them. Fortunately, I know my way around ropes.
Aaron and Sawyer sit beside Yev on the floor and hold his feet up for me like a table. Neither of them shows any trepidation. A quick glance at Henderson reveals he’s already looking squeamish. Jonesy got called away to relieve the guards watching Freya and Stella, or else he’d have been perfect. He’d probably eagerly do the caning.
With everyone in position, I roll out my shoulder, bend my knees to put a little give in them, and hold the implement loosely in my hand. The trick is to let it wobble a little in your grip so the sub—or in this case, the fuckface trafficker—gets extra thrashes with each blow.
This cane is a cruder version of what I’ve used in the past for a few masochistic subs with extreme pain kinks. Those are smoother and thicker, distributing the strikes along a wider surface to reduce the pain. This one is thinner and coarser. The handle is padded and spongy for me, though. Won’t hurt me a fucking bit.
I don’t bother to warm him up with light strokes. Fuck that. We’re going right for the money shot.
Taking a deep breath, I lift the cane toward my shoulder and drive it over the souls of his feet at a steady pace. Ten blows in succession with a few seconds between each to allow the pain signals to build. I hit both feet simultaneously due to the close positioning the guys have given me. Exactly as I asked them to do.
Yev wails and fruitlessly attempts to pull his feet away, wriggling on the floor. Sawyer and Aaron are prepared for his recoil, and his restraints are extremely tight. Plus, the rope has minimal give. Yev’s not going to be successful at shirking away from this. It’s a little fun to watch him try, though.
While I’m not a sadist, I take pleasure in watching this fucker hurt.
“ Blyat! ” he curses in Russian as his wails subside. “ Ya tebya ubyo, suka .”
“Oh, I’m the bitch, Yev?” I scoff mockingly. “And how the fuck do you plan on killing me when you can’t even move your hands or legs?”
“ Svo lach’! ” he seethes, calling me an asshole.
“Shut him up, Shep.” Somehow, I manage to keep my tone even. “I’m getting a headache.”
With a wide grin splayed on his face, he takes Yev’s wadded-up dirty sock and shoves it in his mouth to silence his wails.
I might look disinterested and bored by this entire exchange, but on the inside, I’m reveling in it.
Hurting him—even without leaving permanent damage—is cathartic as fuck. It’s a mere fraction of what Lettie endured, but it’s something. And I can do it guilt free since the pain I’m inflicting on him serves a greater purpose than revenge. He’s going to start talking before we even ask our first question.
After only three rounds of ten swats, he’s begging for mercy. His pleas come out loud and clear, even with the sock in his cock holster. Civilian translation: his mouth.
Shep moves by Yev’s head to start the questioning. While catching my breath, I drop the cane into the corner of the room and motion for Aaron and Sawyer to take a break. They scoot away from his feet, but I can barely hear their bodies scuffing across the tarp over the volume of Yev’s cries.
As soon as a prick of remorse or guilt attempts to break through my facade, I recall how Lettie sounded on that fucking recording.
Shep smacks both sides of Yev’s face to get his attention. “We have a few questions for you. Talk, and we’ll give your feet a break, okay?”
The sniveling piece of excrement nods while sucking back snot and tears.
“How did you get involved with Lenkov’s trafficking ring? Who recruited you?”
“Born,” he answers, voice wobbly and grating. “Born into it.”
Shep flashes a look at me, telegraphing his surprise at this. His mother isn’t in the Bratva from what we know.
“Who’s your father, Yev? Who’s shriveled ball sac did you come out of?”
“Don’t know,” he answers, but it’s strained.
I motion to Aaron and Sawyer. “Back in position, guys. He’s not being truthful.”
When they each swoop back in and grab an ankle to hoist up his feet for me, Yev’s immediately struck with a memory. Fascinating how that happens.
“Wait. Okay. I don’t know father. I only know I have sister and brother. Yuri told me this.”
I rest the cane gently on the fiery red soles of his feet, reminding him of what awaits him if he lies. “Who?”
“Savin is half-brother.”
My eyes bulge, but I’m behind him, so he doesn’t see it. Somehow Shep manages to mask his expression.
A rumble leaves Yev’s chest when he adds, “And Katia.”
Well, fuck me.
Do they share a mother with him? Or does he share their father?
Possibly more importantly, how the hell did Savin and Katia end up Lenkov’s captives while Yev is allowed to live like a free man, working as Yuri’s bitch? And why the fuck don’t I know who Savin and Katia’s parents are? I can’t fucking believe I never searched that. Too many fucking assholes to keep track of in this mess.
When I return to the lair, I’m doing a damn family tree for anyone and everyone who’s had shit fuck to do with this mess.
Shit . I don’t have to wait. I forgot I have a whole ass team now.
I raise one finger at Shep, silently telling him to hold up on more questions. Striding quickly from the room, I close the door behind me. “Mia. Klein.”
“We’re listening, T,” Klein responds.
Pacing down the hall, I talk through what I’d do if I were up there. “One of you should start searching for medical records on Katia.She’s pregnant and might have something on file at a local obstetrician’s office unless Lenkov isn’t getting her prenatal care or keeping her treatment with an in-house doctor. It’s probably too much to hope that she’s had genetic testing. We should look just in case.”
“I’ll take that one,” Mia answers crisply, a hint of excitement in her tone. “Klein is already searching for birth records for Savin and Katia. I’m betting they have fake last names, though. Before you called, we started that. Initial hits are few and far between. For all we know, they were born in Russia or the fucking Ukraine. We might never find out who their parents are.”
My feet draw to an abrupt stop. “I wonder if they even know their parents.”
Klein jumps in. “It’s possible they don’t. Does anyone recall how young they were when they were taken? Did Savin say?”
“I don’t think he said, but I’m unsure,” Mia answers, some of her earlier manic energy fading.
I shake my head and grumble, “I don’t remember either. When Shep and I visited him at the safe house, we didn’t discuss that. We were focused on the trafficking leadership.”
Big Al’s angry timbre cuts through. “I’m not going to ask why you and Shep were there to see him. I really don’t want to fucking know.”
“We didn’t lay a hand on him, Boss,” I answer, gritting my teeth to the point of pain.
I’ve destroyed all the trust he once had in me. He automatically assumes the worst at every turn.
Fucking hell.
Can’t deal with that shit now.
Boss groans and tugs in a deep breath, the air hissing through my earpiece. Even his breathing is rage-filled. “We need to get a hold of Savin in WITSEC. I’ll see what I can do to make that happen through proper channels. Tomer, get back in there and see what else you can find out.”
“Copy.”
My hand reaches for the doorknob.
“Hold on, Tomer,” a soft voice comes through the comms.
“Sue?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m watching from your office. At least the parts that I can stomach. I was wondering if you would ask him more about Katia.”
My hallway pacing resumes. “Explain.”
“It was the way he said her name. Didn’t notice it when he said Savin. Yet there was a distinct shift in tone when he said Katia. I’d like you to poke around there and see what else we can figure out. I feel like there’s something there.”
Playing it back in my mind, I was too shocked by what he said to focus on how he said it.
“You got it, Sue. Anything else?”
“Can you ask him about his relationship with Yuri too?” she adds.
Interesting. She might be wondering about the same thing that’s been floating around the back of my mind regarding Yuri’s role in this. “I plan to. Curious why from your perspective.”
“Remember how I was asking why Yuri hated Lenkov?”
“Yes.”
“What if Yuri is the father of all three of them? If Lenkov took two of his three children from him, illegitimate or not, that would give him cause to hate the Lenkovs the way he does. And perhaps Yuri didn’t tell Yev he’s his father because he was afraid Lenkov would take him too.”
I find myself nodding along eagerly as she finishes her astute theory. “Same page, Sue. Same page.”
“Get in there, T,” Boss orders, slightly less ire in his tone.
My feet are already launching me toward the door.
Once in the room, I tell the guys to roll him onto his side. I’m tired of talking to his fucking back. I might regret it once my eyes lock on his ugly fucking face, but for now, I need to see his reaction when I get into this next line of questioning.
I’m taking over for Shep. He tips his chin at me, signaling his understanding.
“Does Savin know you’re his brother?” I ask.
Yev presses his lips into a thin white line and closes his eyes.
I lower my brow and hit him with a darkened glare. “How are your feet? Want some more?”
“Turn me to police. Please.”
“ Whaaat ?” Shep drawls. “After all this fun we’ve been having? Don’t you like us, Yev?”
The maggot flops his sweaty cheek onto the tarp.
“If you aren’t going to talk, I’ve got some more fun I can have with you.” I let my expression take on an unhinged glow. “You like to have fun, don’t you? Like you did with my sweet Lettie. Did you know they recorded you? With her?” My teeth gnaw into the inside of my lower lip. “Did you send that to me, or was it someone else?”
“He make me do that.” His face screws over to one side. “He record all of us. Keep us loyal.”
“ He who?” I prod.
“Boss.”
My eyes roll, and my shoulders rise and fall with a forced breath to expel the frustration. “Which one, Yev?”
He shakes his head, eyes and mouth sealed as if he’s erecting a wall between him and the information I need.
Well, fuck that.
I dig my fingers roughly into the side of his neck, pinching a pressure point. He screeches and squirms to get away from me, but my grip is unyielding. “Which fucking boss, Yev?”
“No. Blyat! ”
I press harder. “Which one? Last chance.”
He shakes his head, refusing to rat out his fucking boss, which I’d bet money is Viktor. I need to know if there are others involved. If we don’t take them all down, then they’ll be back in business in no time.
I release his neck and shove him away from me. “On his stomach. Grab his feet.”
Without wasting a second, I storm to the corner for the cane.
“No, no, no,” Yev yells, terror dripping from his whiny voice.
As soon as Sawyer and Aaron have him in position, I waste no time. Three swats on the same spots I hit earlier.
He screams the answer. “Viktor. Viktor. My boss is Viktor.”
I drop the cane, inhaling through my nose. Needing a moment to cool off, I lean against the wall and motion at Shep to proceed with the questions. He heard the conversation I had with the team upstairs through the comms, same as the rest of them.
Instead of bending toward his face, Shep shoves Yev back onto his side and stands over him.“Does Savin know you’re his half-brother?”
“ Da ,” he affirms in his Russian tongue. Likely, the pain has rendered his English a thing of the past.
“What about Katia?” Shep asks. “Does she know you’re related too?”
At the mere mention of her name, his eyes narrow to slits, and his upper lip curls.
Sue was fucking right.
Shep smacks Yev’s cheek again. Just to taunt him. “What’s the matter, Yev? You don’t like your sister?”
“I don’t trust her.”
Fascinating. I throw an impressed smirk over my shoulder at the camera, assuming Sue is watching.
“Why not?” Shep presses.
Yev offers a resigned sigh, laced with more of his whiny bullshit. Pathetic. “She should be helping family. She’s traitor. Slut.”
An ache ratchets through my jaw and upper neck from my prolonged clenching.
Lenkov’s family? Or the quasi family he’s in with Savin, Katia, and potentially... Yuri?
Shep continues badgering him for answers. “How is she a traitor?”
“If I tell you, please send me jail. I beg you.”
“You want to go to prison?” I scoff, not buying this bullshit one bit.
“Not safe for me outside. They look for me. Cannot escape. If I cross her, will be end of me. They will find me.”
I fire another question at him. “Are you saying Katia is dangerous, or are the people around her?”
“Both.”
“Nikolai?”
“ Da .”
“Guys, it’s Sue again,” she interjects through the comms. “Ask who else is protecting her. He said they . Not he.”
Shep nods at me, then asks, “Who else protects Katia?”
Yev’s answer looks like it causes him physical pain. After a weighted pause, he finally answers, “Viktor. He love her. The baby.”
“What about the baby?”
“Some say it not Pakhan’s.”
Eyes bulge, and jaws drop around the room.
Not mine.
I fucking knew something was up with her and Viktor. That’s why she was in the bar talking to Skidmark that night. Because she’s involved in the trafficking shit, despite being Nikolai’s girl.
Because she’s fucking Viktor too.
Yev’s whimpers turn into heavy sobs, like the shit-stain coward he is. “They will kill me. So much pain.” His voice quivers. “If Pakhan find out what I know, he kill me for not telling him sooner. But if I tell him, Viktor and Katia will make me pay.” His sobs rise in volume, accompanied by frightened tears.
Look at him. Absolutely terrified of the trafficking scum he was working with just a few short weeks ago.
I finally press off the wall and squat in front of his disgusting body. “I have one more thing to discuss before we call the cops.”
He nods, a glimmer of hope passing behind his beady eyes.
I should put him out of his fucking misery.
Lettie, Lettie, Lettie.
And possibly, what’s growing inside her.
I need to be there for them. To protect them. Love and provide for them. To do that, I must deserve them.
“Tell me about Yuri.”
“Yuri? What about?”
“Did he send you into Lenkov’s Bratva as his spy?”
Rapid blinks accompanying a partial nod is his inarticulate response.
“You turned on him, didn’t you?”
The creases of his face deepen and crinkle as anguish covers him. Perhaps he feels guilty. Assuming he has a conscience, which is a big fat assumption.
“Was the information you were providing to Yuri for the family?”
His lips part, no words slipping through, and his eyes glaze over in confusion. Fucking dumbass.
A bite to my tone, I grit out, “The fucking family Katia’s supposed to be helping. The reason you hate her so much. Is Yuri part of that family?”
Understanding dawns, and his expression loosens. “ Da .”
Three siblings working together from the inside—Savin, Katia, and Yev. More than likely, it’s all being orchestrated by Yuri.
“Has your family been working to stop Lenkov?”
I can see the war waging behind his eyes.He doesn’t want to answer me.
If he admits that, he’s signing his death certificate. Imagine it getting out to the Bratva that, for a time, he was trying to take them down from the inside. Maybe he was playing both sides. Enjoying the spoils of the mafia while funneling info to Yuri for whatever that fucker is scheming.
Like an architect.
Like Icarus’s fucking father from the tale he was spewing on Shep and Jonesy the other night.
“Yev, you don’t have to say it. I can see it in your eyes.”
Another bitch ass whimper.
But we’re so fucking close.
My hands ball to fists, aching to meet his nose, jaw, and every other part of his face. “Give us whatever you have on Lenkov, and we’ll take him down.”
“I cannot.”
My temper boils over, and I bellow, “Why the fuck not?”
“Katia have it. She have it all. And I do not tru?—”
I cut him off, “You can’t trust her. Yeah, I know.”
And I don’t trust her either.
Turning my back on him, I tuck my hands behind my head and hold back a scream, settling for a string of expletives instead. “Fucking hell. God dammit.”
From over my shoulder, I hear Shep ask,“Is Yuri your father?”
I stop pouting and turn around in time to see and hear Yev’s answer.
“I don’t know.”
Well, fuck . I believe him.