18. Boden
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BODEN
Pounding on my apartment door had me stumbling from my bedroom, running to see who the hell was here at this time of night. I glance through the peephole, and my stomach plummets.
“Open the fucking door, Boden,” Kirill yells from the outside.
Behind him is Mikhail—one of Kirill’s top dogs—with a busted nose and swollen face.
Shit! Their presence at my place can’t be good. We always meet on Kirill’s grounds, never here.
I swallow the bile rising in my throat, opening the door for them to enter. They storm inside, closing and engaging the deadbolt. Locked away in my apartment, they both let out shaky breaths.
“What the hell is going on? Why are you here? And why is your face messed up, Mikhail?”
“Your recruit wouldn’t come easily,” Mikhail snaps, his Slavic accent sounding more nasal through his broken nose. He pushes past me toward my kitchen, turning on the sink and washing the blood from his face.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, stunned Vanessa could inflict such damage, particularly to a man as big as Mikhail. “But you got her, right?”
“No, we didn’t fucking get her,” Kirill spits through his teeth, taking a seat on my couch and running a hand down his tired face.
I gasp, my hands flying to my head. “What do you mean you didn’t get her?! You always get your targets.”
“She had help,” Kirill says, glaring at me.
“Help? From who?”
“A goddamn biker, that’s who,” Kirill yells. “And not any fucking biker. A Royal Bastard.”
I pause, unsure of what he means. “I don’t understand. A Royal Bastard? Is that supposed to stand for something other than an insult?”
Mikhail returns from the kitchen, his face still a mess but less bloody. “The biker is part of the Royal Bastards MC—a one-percent club our organization has had the misfortune of dealing with in the past. Shit never goes well when they get involved.”
My stomach sours, recalling the rough-looking man sharing Vanessa’s bed. He definitely gave off bad news vibes.
Kirill curses under his breath. “We already have the Mercy Ravens MC here in town giving us grief and stalling operations. However, if the Royal Bastards know we are here and behind the abductions, we’re fucked.
Our organization may be large, but not Royal Bastards large.
They’ll be calling in neighboring chapters to take us on. ”
“Maybe not,” I say nervously, terrified of what this could mean for all of us. “Maybe it was some random Royal Bastard passing through at the right time and only intervened because he was there. I’m sure they have other pressing matters to deal with than to care about some random girl being taken.”
Mikhail shakes his head. “Unlikely they won’t get involved.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because this wasn’t some low-ranking member,” Mikhail explains in a testy tone. “His patch read President of the Loveland Chapter.”
“Cupid,” Kirill adds, spitting on the floor with disgust. “He’s one relentless bastard, stopping at nothing to make sure no one disrespects their club.”
My blood turns to ice in my veins, recognizing the name as the one Vanessa used the night before when she was addressing the asshole at her apartment.
Something in my face must give away that I know more than I’m sharing. Kirill’s eyes narrow on me. “What aren’t you telling me, boy?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly, sounding guilty as hell.
“Do you know him?” Mikhail asks, moving closer. “He has Artem—my brother. If you know anything about this guy, tell us.”
Admitting I know Cupid means I need to admit Vanessa wasn’t a random recruit.
I had no idea who Cupid was or who he was affiliated with, but they will not believe it, not when I have a vendetta against my ex.
They’ll assume the worst, that I set them up.
Before they dispose of me, I’ll be beaten and used violently.
I don’t want to die—I never wanted any of this.
Schooling my face, I shake my head. “Never heard of the guy.”
Mikhail’s shoulders sag, and he hangs his head in defeat.
Kirill continues to look my way. I hesitate meeting his eyes, but when I do, I notice he’s not looking at me, but past me. He rises from the couch, walking past me.
Confused, I turn to watch where he’s heading. Kirill reaches up and pulls down a picture frame I had on a shelf, one where I’m embracing Vanessa. Her smile is beautiful. I love that photo and the happier time it represents between us.
After Vanessa left me, I couldn’t bring myself to pack it away. But now, I am kicking myself for leaving it out.
Kirill holds the photo out to me. “Is this her? Was she the recruit?”
Before I can answer, Mikhail pushes me aside to inspect the image. “Yes. It’s her.”
The two of them turn their stony gazes on me.
I’m so fucked.
“Let me explain,” I say, holding my hands out in front of me.
“Yes. Please explain,” Kirill says with eerie calmness. “Who is she to you?”
“She’s my ex. I fucked it up with her when I slept with Riley, and she left me.”
Kirill’s face tightens. “You slept with my scout?!”
Worried I may have gotten Riley into some serious hot water, I swallow down my guilt. “I didn’t know she was your girl. I was stressed. Riley was helping me calm down. It just happened. It meant nothing—it was just sex.”
“Meant nothing?” Kirill growls in his chest, looking like he’s ready to finish me. “You’re telling me she slept with you for nothing?”
My mind is spinning, desperately trying to think of a way to get myself out of this corner. “I was freaking out about not making the deadline. Riley was worried I’d do something stupid, like rat you out to the police or something. She offered to have sex with me to calm me down, to protect you.”
Kirill pauses, likely mulling over my words.
“Riley wouldn’t intentionally upset you,” I stress. “She didn’t want you to get into trouble. I was…her charity case.”
Mikhail snorts, amused at my humiliation.
“Hmm.” Whether Kirill believes me, he wants to believe Riley is loyal to him. “Fine. As long as Riley’s story collaborates with yours, I will let this pass.”
“Thanks, boss,” I say, letting my guard down.
Without warning, Kirill punches me in the gut. I drop to the ground, sucking wind.
“Touch what is mine again and I’ll kill you, da?”
Gasping, I nod hastily.
He takes a seat again on the couch, crossing his ankle over his knee and throwing his arms on the back of the couch like he owns it. I guess, in a way, he does since he owns me.
“Tell me why you wanted us to take your ex—no lies.”
When I feel like I won’t vomit from taking a hit in the stomach, I answer. “She’s made it impossible for me to make it up to her, pissing me off.”
Mikhail nods. “That usually happens when you fuck another woman.”
“It was a mistake,” I say, trying to keep my anger in check. “Vanessa wasn’t willing to forgive me.”
Kirill studies me, possibly trying to see if I’m lying to him. He motions at my black eyes, courtesy of Cupid breaking my nose yesterday. “Did she do this to you for sleeping with my scout?”
“Uh, no. Got the shiners from…playing basketball at the gym yesterday. Took a ball to the face,” I lie. There’s no way I can reveal Cupid was responsible.
“So? What? Hand her over to us for a good time?” Kirill raises an eyebrow. “If you care for her, you wouldn’t give her to us. What’s your reasoning?”
“Do you remember our conversation when I mentioned recruiting her? I said she would be good for the team morale, and I would take her off your hands afterward.”
“Da. I remember.”
“My thought process was if your men violated her for a few hours, she’d feel worthless afterwards, like no one would want her. And I’d be there to take her back with open arms.”
Neither of the Russians says anything for a minute, making me sweat with dread.
“Pathetic,” Mikhail mutters, sneering at me with disgust.
“Da, but effective,” Kirill adds. “A broken woman is easier to control.”
“Exactly,” I say. “I knew you’d understand.”
Kirill’s lips turn up into a twisted smirk. “It’s only fair I fuck what’s yours after you soiled mine.”
I say nothing, hating the idea of him putting his dirty hands on Vanessa. However, I only have myself to blame. I asked for this, to break the woman I want to be with and make her believe I’m worthy of her love again.
“And what of the biker?” Mikhail asks. “What connection does he have to her?”
I shrug, not trusting my voice to give me away.
“Perhaps nothing,” Kirill answers. “For now, we lie low. Let them think we’ve moved on. We can always fill inventory by raiding the unhoused camps. They will have to do until we’re certain the MCs are not tracking us.”
“And Vanessa?” I ask, wanting to know what will happen with her.
“She’s off-limits for now.”
I stammer, flustered. “W—Why?”
“Like all merchandise, when it’s hot, you avoid it. She’ll be lying low after being attacked, resting and healing. No doubt she’ll file a police report and they’ll be watching her, waiting to see if we return,” Mikhail explains. “If we try to grab her now, we’ll likely get caught.”
“But when?” I demand. “I want her back.”
“Patience,” Kirill says. “When the opportunity arises, we’ll take her, and then you can have our sloppy seconds back.”
Both Russians laugh, slapping me on the back as they exit my apartment, leaving me shaken.