Twenty-Six Justice
TWENTY-SIX
Justice
Fury clocks through me as I jump in the back of the town car, Wynd sliding in from the other side. My driver is a guy named Bronco, and it fits. He’s large, broad, and armed. Funny thing is, it’s actually his name.
I pull up my phone and start updating a fucking app I didn’t think I’d need for a while. It’s a good half hour from doing what I need.
“I’m so sorry,” Wynd says.
I hold up a hand. “It’s Ella. I should have figured. I had all electronics removed from the penthouse.” I try not to smile, because it’s fucking brilliant. And yet, she’s out there, alone.
I press a couple buttons on my phone, instructing Kaz to find her.
We drive for nearly half an hour, almost to the penthouse, when Bronco stiffens.
“Hold on, boss,” he says. “We have trouble.”
I look up just in time to see another town car barreling toward us down the mainly quiet street.
“What do you want me to do?” Bronco’s voice stays steady as his foot sinks deeper.
I pull my gun from its holster and glance at Wynd. “We play chicken.”
“Sounds good.” Wynd’s grin is feral, even with the bruise.
Bronco lowers his head, engine screaming, and we surge forward.
Movement flashes in my peripheral—a streak of black cutting out of an alley and across the lane. Before I can process it, another car slams into us dead center, right between the driver’s door and mine.
The impact throws me across the car. I smash into Wynd, my forehead cracking against the opposite window. Glass sprays. The car spins, metal groaning, tires screeching as the world tilts sideways. We slam into the opposing alley, the car crashing into brick.
For a moment everything goes black. Then … silence. Just the sound of glass raining down across the floorboards.
“What the fuck?” My voice rasps, raw. I turn, disoriented, as my door crumples inward with a groan of tearing steel. At least nobody is shooting at us this time.
I smash out the rest of the glass with my elbow and shove Wynd’s door wide. I barely hit the ground before Alexei is there, gun jammed hard into my chest.
Blood trails down my face, sticky and hot, but I don’t wipe it away. Fury rises sharp and fast inside me. I shift aside as Wynd stumbles free of the wreck. Bronco is still hunched over the wheel, motionless.
“He better fucking be breathing,” I hiss, then square myself toward Alexei.
The barrel doesn’t move. I keep my own weapon down, angled at the asphalt. No point in dying stupid.
His eyes are black fire, unblinking. It’s only been a short time since we met, and he’s still wearing the black suit and tie. I lean in, pressing my chest into the steel. If he wanted me dead, he should’ve made a move back in the warehouse. “What the holy fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Was it you?” His voice is low, lethal.
My skull pounds, blood dripping into my eye. “No.” I don’t even know what he’s accusing me of. But it wasn’t me.
“You don’t know what I mean.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you mean.”
He tilts the gun back a fraction, gaze locked. “You really don’t.”
“No, and if you don’t lower that thing, I’ll shove mine up your ass.”
The grin that splits his face isn’t humor. It’s a predator baring teeth. “Somebody shot a missile into my new homestead ten minutes ago. I thought you were trying to make an even bigger statement than the one you made earlier.”
“Rosalie?” My voice cracks more than I want to admit. “Is she alive?” I can’t tell Ella that her friend is dead.
“She’s fine. Everyone’s fine.” He lowers the gun. “It was the guest house that blew.”
My chest loosens. Who is shooting missiles at us?
“Which means her seven boarders are moving into my house.” His voice hardens, rising. “Seven old men. Eating my food. Breathing my air. Until I build them something else.”
I blink. “What?”
He snarls. “She took them in years ago. From her old place. I promised her a roof, so I built them one. Now it’s rubble, and they’re mine until I replace it.”
“Send them to a home.”
His jaw tightens, teeth grinding. “That’s not how it works.” Then his eyes cut back to me. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.” My head throbs, blood stings my eye, and my vision is edged in black. Part of me wants to shoot him for payback, just in the knee, but I have more pressing matters to handle right now. “I didn’t bomb you.”
“Yeah, I get that now.” He takes a step back and looks at my damaged vehicle. “I owe you a car.”
“You better not owe me a driver. Bronco.” I look over my shoulder. “Wake up.”
The man doesn’t move.
“Bronco. His name’s Bronco?” Alexei asks.
Bronco groans and pushes away from the steering wheel, his forehead bloody.
I breathe out. “You’re paying for any medical bills, Sokolov.”
“That’s fair,” Alexei says. “Do you need a ride?”
“No.” I jerk my head toward a second car coming into view. My men are already out, weapons raised. Alexei’s men spill from two additional vehicles, guns drawn as well.
“Everyone, weapons down,” I say, voice hard. “I am not in the mood.”
The barrels lower, but the tension stays wired tight. My face is throbbing.
Alexei clears his throat. “This is probably the wrong time, but I have a cousin I’d like you to meet.”
I blink blood out of my eye and focus on him. “Excuse me?”
“She’s cute. Russian. Dark hair, temper you wouldn’t believe. She’ll bear you many fine children.”
My fist itches, but I stand still.
He steps toward his car. “Probably the wrong time, but it would be good if we could form an alliance. Marriage, family, that’s how it’s done.”
“You want me to marry your fucking cousin?”
“That’s the idea.” He shrugs. “I’m sure Sylveria has approached you about her daughters.”
I just stare and then cough out blood. “You fell in love with your own lawyer. Rumor says you’re obsessed with her. That wasn’t exactly an arranged match.”
“She’s one of a kind,” he says reasonably. “And well … there is no ‘and.’ She’s one of a kind. I couldn’t let her go. I never will.”
I understand his reasoning more than I should, because right now there’s a pixie-sized blonde out of my reach. My gut twists. “I have things to do.” I turn toward my vehicle.
“Ella Rendale isn’t the one for you,” he says suddenly.
I stop cold and turn back. “You want to die?”
“Not really.” His voice stays calm. “But you know I can’t let you align with TimeGem while your brother is tied to Aquarius Social. That would leave Hologrid Hub out in the cold. I can’t let it happen.”
I take a step toward him, glass crunching under my boots. My voice drops. “You go near Ella, and I will tear down everything you love.”
I stress the last word. We both know exactly who he loves.
His smile fades, eyes hard now. “Then I suppose we understand each other.”
Bronco groans again behind me. Wynd steadies himself against the car, still holding his ribs. The street is littered with broken glass and bent steel, engines ticking down as if nothing just happened.
I holster my gun, never looking away from Alexei. The night smells of gasoline and blood. My patience is gone. “I’m not using euphemisms, Alexei. I know where to hit you.”
His eyes are already dark, darker still, until they look bottomless. “So it’s like that, is it?”
“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Huh.” He looks more surprised than angry. “Then you’d better lock her down fast, because I’m sure I’m not the only one who sees her as a threat.”
Ella is definitely a threat, and Alexei probably has no idea what she can actually do with a computer virus.
I notice belatedly that his voice isn’t cutting me, not the way it should, and he’s been threatening me this entire time.
It could be that Alexei, deep down, is a decent man, or maybe it’s just that we’re of the same mind.
I’ve also noticed since I started whatever this is with Ella that words don’t pierce as much.
Maybe she’s toughened me, or maybe she’s softened everything else.
The woman has too much power. I need to check out that worthless penthouse for clues of where she’s gone, at least until this stupid app finishes updating. Sometimes technology is such a pain in the ass.
“We can find another way to forge a connection between our companies,” I say. “I don’t want to do it through marriage. At least not with this generation.”
“Apparently,” he says, “that means your kids and my kids.”
I think about it. “I’d be willing to consider that.”
“Great.” He doesn’t even have a bride yet, but he’s about to, so I can already see him planning ahead.
“Are you going to tell Rosalie?” I’m rather curious how brave he is with the lawyer.
“Hell no. That’s something that comes up in about twenty years.” He glances again at my demolished vehicle. “Send me a bill.” With that, he turns and walks to the back of his dented car. The door slams, the engine growls, and he drives off without another word.
Wynd sags against what’s left of our car now that he can finally breathe. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just follow and shoot him?”
“It’s a definite possibility,” I say, finally wiping the blood from my face. I gingerly touch the cut above my eyebrow. It doesn’t feel too deep. A bandage will do.
I move toward my other vehicle just as Bronco lurches out of the driver’s seat, blinking hard, his balance off. He sways, head darting side to side, trying to place himself.
I glance at Wynd. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He rolls his shoulder. “Rattled my brain a little, but I’ll live.”
“All right. You need to get Bronco to a doctor. He’s definitely concussed. Could have internal injuries too.”
Wynd brushes glass off his pants. “I’m on your six.”
I stare at him. “Right, because I may need help checking out my penthouse.”
He rolls his eyes. “We didn’t think we’d get hit by a car today, now did we?”
“No. That’s fair.”
And they had shoved us into an alley to box us in clean.
I whistle at two of my men. “Get Bronco to the hospital. Keep me updated.”
They rush forward, taking him by the arms, steadying his bulk between them.
I turn to Wynd. “Secure us another vehicle.”
He glances at me. “Do you want to change clothes?”
“No. We don’t have time. Let’s go.”
When I find Ella, she’s going to learn that this isn’t a game, even though I suspect she feels it is. She better be safe.