15. Reaper
Reaper
“How fucking long are we going to follow this guy?” my brother whisper yells, as we make our way through the crowded streets of Oakland. “We need to take him now Logan before he crosses into Petrov territory.”
I rather be at home sinking inside Paris’s cunt but here I am dealing with the fallout of Nikita’s almost death. The Petrovs will not give up until they find her and me.
We made sure to lose the man following us, then circled behind him, and now we’re following him.
Lev Belkin, one of the Petrovs soldiers, has been tailing us for blocks.
Now he’s heading back into Petrov territory since he lost us.
We do need to head him off before he reaches their territory or we lose the upper hand.
Right now, he’s still in Sinner territory.
“There’s an alley right up there, we’ll get him there.”
Saint nods, then we speed up and right when Lev reaches the alley, I push my gun into his lower back. “Don’t turn around or I’ll put a bullet in your back and have you shitting into a bag for the rest of your miserable life.” I push the barrel of the gun harder into his back. “Now, move.”
“You won’t get away with this,” he says. “Do you know who I work for?”
I shove him into the blackness of the alley. The stench of weeks old garbage, piss, and possibly vomit is heavy in the air assaulting my nose.
Saint laughs. “Of course we do. Why the hell do you think you’re in the predicament, asshole?”
With a firm push, I send him sprawling, his body hitting the ground with a thud as he lands in a murky puddle of water, soaking him.
“You motherfucker!” he screams.
Since Nikita’s attack, the Petrovs have been keeping a close eye on me.
They’ve sent their enforcer, and I killed him, which should have sent a strong message not to fuck with me.
Of course, there will be consequences for killing Aleksi, but right now the issue is Nikita’s attack and not the death of Aleksi.
The guys Oleg have been sending are low level in the organization, so I think they’re trying to get me to lead them to Paris, not to kill me.
They have yet to figure out I’ve been keeping her in my penthouse.
I don’t know how long that’ll be the case.
However, right now, I need as much information from the prick I can get so I can keep her safe for as long as I can.
Is it selfish to have her remain with me where she can possibly be attacked? Yes. But like I’ve told her, I’m not the good guy. I’m not the prince charming of her fairytale. She brings me solace, a peace I haven’t felt since Blake and I want to keep her for as long as I can.
These few weeks with her I’ve become more like my old self.
No pissy moods, no need to go to the underground fights although that wouldn’t be possible with the threat on her life as well as the threat on mine.
I haven’t even had the need to go to the gym to work out until I can barely walk to silence the demons as much.
She’s done that with this routine we’ve found ourselves in as we block the world out around us.
Do I believe it will come to an end? Sure.
Should I put an end to it sooner rather than later, and have her stay at the club house?
Most definitely. And this motherfucker on the ground is a sign I’m playing loose with her life and mine.
“Why are you following me?”
He just stares at me, a little smirk playing on his lips that makes my blood boil.
Saint crosses his arms over his chest. “I suggest you answer his question because we don’t have all fucking day and he’s in a bad mood if you can’t tell.”
“Kill me, motherfucker. I don’t give a fuck.”
He tries to stand up, but Saint kicks him in the chest and he falls back to the ground.
“No need to beg,” I place the gun against his forehead. “It’s coming, but not before I get answers. Why are you following me, Lev?”
“How the hell do you know my name?” he asks, fear lacing his voice.
“I know everything about you, Lev. That your mother is in a nursing home clinging to life because you’re a fucking mama’s boy and you’re not ready to let her go.”
“Fuck you, motherfucker!”
“Fuck me?” I smirk because I know it will irritate Lev even more. “Fuck me like your wife is fucking, Emil.”
“Who the fuck is Emil?” Saint asks, looking at me with his brow drawn together.
“Lev’s brother.” I shrug, looking at Saint before my eyes slide back to Lev. “Emil’s been fucking Lev’s wife since they’ve been married. I’m sure the last kid they had isn’t even Lev’s. He’s got Emil’s piercing blue eyes. Isn’t that right, Lev?”
Lev tries to get up, but I press the gun harder against his forehead. “Aht. Aht. Aht. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Your brother is fucking your wife?” Saint asks Lev from beside me. “That’s fucked up, man. And you know about it, and hadn’t killed that motherfucker yet?”
“It really is fucked up, Lev. You should take care of it.” I grin at Lev just to rub it in some more and to get under his skin. “Seems like that bitch nor Emil give a fuck about you.”
“How the hell do you know all that?” Saint asks, but I just shrug again.
I don’t reveal my source is none other than Lila.
She’s been able to infiltrate some of the Petrov’s circles and get me the information I need because their men are weak when it comes to a beautiful woman with a willing cunt.
I know the Petrov’s sent Aleksi after me as well as these other motherfuckers.
Why not use whatever I can to keep Paris alive?
“What happens if I tell you what you want to know?”
“I’ll let you go home to that whore you call a wife and those kids that may also be your nephews.”
He scowls, pressing his lips into a thin line. While that will be good for him, that will be terrible for Paris. He’ll go back and report everything to Oleg. I can’t have that.
“We’ve been following you, so you’ll lead us to her. Which you’ve done.”
Fuck! My little bubble of peace can only last so long.
“Thanks for the info, Lev.” I pull the trigger without a second thought.
“Shit! I didn’t think you were going to kill him here.”
“What the fuck did you think I pulled the gun for, little brother?”
“Fuck! I’ll call Snake to get the body,” Saint says as we drag Lev’s body deeper into the alley and cover it with crates. “Hopefully, he can get him and drop him in some acid before the cops show up.”
“Do that on the way.”
He pulls out his phone as we race toward my penthouse. I fucked up and Paris is going to pay for it with her life.
Something feels off. A sudden chill runs down my spine and the air grows heavy as we exit the elevator on the floor of my condo.
I think we might be too late. My condo is the only one on this floor so no one should be up here unless they’re coming to see me.
Besides the cleaning lady’s weekly visits, no one comes to see me including my brothers.
There isn’t anything noticeable to the naked eye when we arrive. Yet, I can’t quite put my finger on it. The atmosphere just seems off. When I have these feelings nine times out of ten, it’s accurate.
“You think they’ve already hit the place?” Saint asks, picking up on my change in mood.
He tagged along with me today to meet Paris and help me come up with some type of plan to keep her safe. That’s when we noticed Lev following us.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate both my brothers’ concern, I know he and King want what’s best for me and right now, they don’t know what to do to make that happen.
However, I just want to deal with shit alone.
It’s been that way since Blake’s death. I love my solitude and solving shit by myself because after her, it felt like it was me against the world.
But I can’t tell him to fuck off. King gave him an order to come with me since the Sinners are involved now, and he’s not going to go against it.
I shrug, as I ease my gun from the waistband of my jeans then make sure there’s a bullet in the chamber. “Not sure. But something’s off.”
Saint nods, pulling his gun too. When we reach the front door, we find it slightly ajar, confirming my suspicions. It’s the first time in a long time, I’m absolutely terrified about what I might find.
It’s a feeling I often had with Blake. I didn’t know one day to the next if I’d wake up and find her dead next to me, or even when I arrived home. I never knew what to expect. This is the same type of fear coursing through me now.
Fuck!
I bring my finger to my lips, making sure Saint keeps quiet. They may still be inside.
Releasing a deep breath, I slowly push the door open, bracing myself for whatever is on the other side. It may be armed men, or Paris’s dead body—another woman I vowed to protect gone too soon. Either way I need to get ready for the unknown.
Raising my gun, I move through my empty living room, dodging the broken glass, and overturned furniture with Saint closely following behind me. I face the kitchen, with my gun raised, but it’s empty as well.
Saint motions down the hallway, and I nod. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the rush of my feet down the hallway toward the spare bedrooms and my master suite.
When I reach the bedroom door of where Paris has been staying when she’s not in my bed, it lays in splinters on the floor, the hinges ripped from the frame.
There’s no blood that I can see, which is a good sign she’s not injured and hopefully not dead.
Her room is destroyed but there’s no sign of her.
“Fuck!” I mutter as I search her bathroom to make sure she’s not hiding in there either.
I slowly walk out, meeting Saint in the hallway as he exits the final spare bedroom which is also empty before moving to my bedroom.
The door lay in pieces, proof they forced their way in.
My room is completely destroyed. A chaotic mess of broken furniture, broken glass, and scattered belongings.
My drawers have been pulled out and all the clothes thrown on the floor.
Along with my mattress and sheets, my pillows have been ripped to pieces, white down feathers are strewn across my bed and floor.
But despite all the damage, no blood again, which is a relief.
Saint checks the bathroom while I make my way inside my walk-in closet.
It’s not the typical closet. It’s comparable to my spare bedroom—roughly the same square footage—allowing for comfortable movement while being able to store all my clothes.
The amount of clothes I have is something my brothers always give me hell about.
It’s one of the reasons I decided to buy this condo.
Saint steps in as I walk back towards the door. “Anything?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Well, there’s no blood, so that’s a good sign,” he says. “At least we know she was alive when they left.”
“For now,” I mumble, then I stiffen when I hear a faint sound like a whimper. “Did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hear shit,” Saint says, looking around like we might have missed something. “What did it sound like?”
“A cry. Paris! Sweetheart! It’s Logan!”
Minutes of silence tick by and I think maybe I just want to hear her voice or what I heard had been wishful thinking on my part. She’s not here, and now, I’m going to kill every member of the Petrov Bratva for taking her away from me.
“We need to get the…”
“Logan?”
Her voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear it, and the sound is like music to my ears despite the tremor of fear lacing it. Knowing she’s scared hits my gut so hard a blinding rage floods my senses, distorting everything.
I race toward the back of my closet. There’s a row of cabinets across the bottom of the back wall. So, I reach down, and open one of the doors.
“Paris.”
A wave of relief washes over me when I see her hiding in the shadows toward the back. I don’t even know how in the hell she crammed herself in such a tight space, but I’m grateful she did.
Her knees are pulled up to her chest and when she looks at me, tears are streaming down her face while she has a death grip on my knife I keep in the top drawer of my dresser under my t-shirts.
“Here take this.”
Saint grabs my gun, then I reach out my hand to her. “I’m here, baby. You can drop the knife and come out. It’s safe.”
As she begins to crawl out, her eyes widen as she starts to shake her head, while trying to make herself as small as possible back inside the cabinet.
I look over my shoulder, then back at her when I realize the issue.
“That’s my brother, Saint. He won’t hurt you either, Paris.
I’d rather kill myself, then let anyone hurt you, baby. Come out for me, please.”
After a few minutes, she drops the knife and crawls out.
A shuddering sob wracks her body as she collapses into my arms. The raw, choked sound resonates deep within my soul.
It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced such heart wrenching fear and rage.
Fear that Petrov had taken her. And a burning rage because they invaded my home, attempting to steal her away from me.
Trembling, she clings to my body, her small hands digging into my shirt like she’s scared I’ll vanish into thin air. But I’ll never let her go. “I’m here, sweetheart,” I whisper, then kiss the top of her head.
Her big brown eyes filled with tears, gaze up at me like I’m her last lifeline. “Please don’t let them get me. Please, Logan. I can’t go back there.”
“If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll keep you safe. I promise on my life, on everything I love, nobody will ever hurt you again.”
As she buries her face, stained with tears into my chest, I look up at my brother who’s giving me a look that says I’ll be in for a shit ton of questions I’m not ready to answer. But, right now that doesn’t even matter. She’s with me and she’s safe. I’ll deal with all the other shit later.