Chapter 55
Ryder
“I’ve told you already, it wasn’t my gun.” I leaned back and kicked my legs up onto the table in what I hoped was a suitably disrespectful manner.
The detective that leaned against the wall lip curled, but he didn’t rise to it. “Ryder—”
“Mr Finn.”
His jaw twitched. “Mr Finn—”
“Please,” I drawled, slouching lower in the chair, “call me Ryder.”
His partner with the moustache inhaled slowly through his nose, both men clinging to patience by a thread.
It had been hours. Hours of the same questions asked three different ways. Hours of me giving the same answers and offering nothing I wasn’t willing to give. Hours of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and the stale stench of the interrogation room scraping against my nerves.
And no word on Violet.
That was the part clawing at the inside of my chest, but I knew I wouldn’t be here much longer.
“I agree to your offer,” I said, knowing my one phone call had to be important.
“This isn’t a joke,” Roman replied, his deep voice crackling through the cheap handset. “Once you’re in, you’re in. There’s no taking this back. I need you to understand that.”
“You think I care?” I leaned my forehead against the cold wall, exhaling hard. “Roman, you’ve always been my ride-or-die. If you need me as your right hand in the mafia world I’ve never given a shit about, I’ll do it. Ya tvoya suchka.”
I’m your bitch. Which was about to be true.
There was a beat of silence on his end, unusual for Roman, who never hesitated. “You don’t work well with others,” he said finally.
“Fucking hell, Rome. You’ve been fighting with me to join for years, and now you’re uncertain?”
“This is more than just positions and titles,” he said quietly. “If you say yes, you’re under my father’s umbrella. That means protection. Money. Power. But it also means blood and war. I need you to be sure.”
“I’m sure.” I wasn’t even pretending to think twice. “You think I don’t know what you do?”
Roman sighed, and I knew immediately it wasn’t relief. “You’re doing this for her,” he said.
Of course I was. Why else would I pledge my life to the Bratva with no way out but death? Only crazy men agreed.
“You want me or not? Because I’m kind of in deep shit right now.”
“I’m aware. I’ll deal with it.”
The line clicked dead.
The detective with the mole finally dropped into the chair across from me, folding his hands like he was trying a new strategy. “Ryder, possession of a firearm is a serious offence. If you’d just—”
“Look, I’m just a handsome, gentle soul who was just minding his own business.”
His stare flattened. “You were caught aiming a loaded weapon at a site under active search and seizure.”
“Incorrect. I was disarming an idiot with a loaded weapon outside a site under active search and seizure. There’s a difference.”
A muscle in Moustache’s cheek jumped.
Good. At least one of us was entertained.
“So,” I continued, “did you find anything interesting inside? I hear it was a mess.”
Mole leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Ryder… this only gets worse if you keep playing games.”
I smirked. “Detective, if I were playing games, I’d be having fun.”
Another sigh. Moustache looked so close to losing his patience that it was almost comical.
“Look,” I said, finally pulling my legs off the table only to lean my chair back onto two legs. “Have you charged me or not?”
“You’re already in custody, Mr Finn,” he warned.
“Fantastic,” I said. “Does that come with room service? Because I’m—”
Three sharp raps, and it took a moment for me to realise it was coming from the door.
“Please,” I said, sweeping my arm out. “Answer. I won’t be offended.”
“Jesus Christ,” Moustache muttered as he stood. “Stay put.”
I winked back. “I’ll do my best.”
The door cracked open, a uniformed man speaking in a low whisper.
The detective’s head snapped toward me, eyes sharpening. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” he snarled. “How is he being released?”
I clicked my tongue, standing. “Ah, well, it’s been fun, guys.” I rapped my knuckles against the table. “I hope you both go fuck yourselves.”
With a wink at both detectives, I pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway.
“Took your fucking time,” I said, finding both Roman and Maxim waiting for me.
“Hello to you, too,” Roman muttered dryly.
“Have the charges been dropped?”
“Of course,” he said, as if it was obvious. “You’ll owe my father.”
I nodded, knowing you didn’t want to owe Sasha Antonov, but that was tomorrow’s problem. Today, I had enough shit to deal with.
Following Maxim outside, he opened the back door of a sleek black car for Roman, and I followed inside after.
“Where’s Violet?” I asked the second the car door shut behind us. “Tell me you got her out.”
Roman didn’t meet my eyes. His jaw knotted. “She’s been taken.”
“Fuck!” My fist slammed into the window before I could stop myself, cracks spiderwebbing out under my knuckles. Oops. “What was the fucking point of tipping the police off to clear the place if you couldn’t even get her out?”
“Calm down,” Roman snapped. “You knew this was a possibility. It’s why we put a tracker in her choker.”
I sagged back into the seat, chest constricting as Maxim pulled us away from the curb. “What the hell happened, Rome? Everything went to shit.”
Roman exhaled hard. “They knew where my men were stationed.”
“You think Aeris sold us out?” I stilled, anger surging through me.
“Someone did,” Roman said. “Greta’s missing, too.” He reached into his jacket, pulling out his phone.
“That crazy bitch,” I muttered, reaching for the phone and jabbing in Hendrix’s number. The call rang twice before he picked up. “Getting me arrested?” I snapped. “Seriously, Hen?”
“What, you’d rather have a bullet in your skull?” Hendrix shot back. “It wasn’t my fault you were standing there with a fucking gun when uniforms turned up. You knew they were coming, and you being outside wasn’t the plan. Besides, I knew Roman would get you out.”
“It wasn’t something I could fucking control, and they were early.” I dragged a hand over my face, trying to keep the fear from choking me. The uniforms were supposed to be the backup plan, a way to get us out if something went wrong. Big fucking help that was. “Tell me Violet’s tracker is active.”
“It is,” Hendrix said without pause. “I’ve been following it to an address about an hour outside the city. I’ll forward you the coordinates.”
My pulse kicked hard. “Who’s holding her?”
“That’s the problem. The company at the address is a shell. Fake website, fake registry, no staff listed. It’ll take me hours to sift through all this.”
The phone creaked under my tightening grip. “We don’t have hours.”
“I know,” he said, tone dropping. “But whatever they’re doing? It’s big. And they had the resources to grab Violet without leaving a footprint.”
Another fresh wave of panic crashed through me, sharp and blinding. “Keep digging,” I barked. “I don’t care how deep you have to go.”
Hendrix exhaled sharply. “Ryder… be careful.”
I hung up before he could say anything else, finding Roman watching me carefully.
My voice was low when I finally spoke. “We go in, we get Violet. We kill everyone else. Agreed?”
Roman’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “It’s almost like you were made for the Bratva.”
Gritting my teeth, I looked out the fractured window. Because if they’d hurt her…
If they’d even looked at her wrong…
I was going to burn the whole fucking building down.