“I’m here to do what I just did, save your life. Unfortunately, you were caught in the middle of a war. The only way I can protect you is to take you with me. Stop fighting.”
“No!”
“You have no other choice. If you want to live.”
CHAPTER 7
Stavros
Blood.
It was the creation of life. We all witnessed volumes of the substance as it pumped through a person’s body, providing them with nourishment, oxygen in order to breathe.
I’d also been the one to watch it flow from a man’s body, pooling underneath as vacant eyes stared back up at me, the haunted look not something I usually remembered or gave a damn about. But as I yanked the knife from deep within the man’s throat where I’d twisted and driven it as close to his pea-sized brain as possible, I reveled in the deep color more than usual.
Perhaps that was because I’d saved a life today while taking another.
Only the innocent life I’d saved was far superior to this fuck of a man, a hired thug and nothing more. I tore away at his pressed shirt collar, noticing what most would consider a brand carved in his neck. The shit was just getting deeper. I needed to confirm but I had a very bad feeling about the brand.
Sure, there were dozens of cartels and syndicates who required their low-level soldiers to wear tats or be branded, but I had a sinking suspicion I’d smashed into something far more dangerous. Fuck me if I was right. And why would the Death Squad have any interest in low level squabbles or a sweet and very innocent girl? I had to be overthinking this shit. All I knew was the guy lying in a pool of blood on her formerly clean tile was a trained assassin.
As I stood, wiping the blood from the blade, I sense Jenna’s eyes remained concentrated on what I was doing. She’d witnessed me killing two men in less than twenty-four hours, both times to save her life.
Not that it would matter to her at this point. I could hear her ragged breathing, could feel the irregular pulse ticking away in her body. But what stood out even more than the ridiculous moment was the crazy static electricity that flowed between us. I could tell by the way Christos was staring at the two of us that he could feel it. Hell, even the skin on my arms was prickled more than I’d experienced before.
The vicious games had continued, only I hadn’t initially anticipated that I would have been followed from the moment I’d arrived in the fucking dirty city.
“Shit,” Christos huffed under his breath. “Who the fuck is this guy?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
To be burned in effigy wasn’t anything new for some in the middle of a war, and there was no mistake the Albanians had initiated a war between our two regimes, but the way it had been done pissed me off more than usual. They were notorious arms dealers, managing to grab the kind of weapons that could not only start a powerful way but end it within days. They had connections and zero scruples, their integrity in the toilet. That’s why they wanted to grab hold of Philly. The ports were easier, less painful to deal with.
Then why pretend as if they wanted to go legit with casinos other than to launder money?
Just like our family had done in the early days.
And why lure us away from the scene? Had this jerk been hired to kidnap Jenna, hoping to lure me to my death? Nothing was making any sense, at least in the terms of usual turf wars.
Someone had placed blown up photographs of my entire family smack in the middle of Rockefeller Center along with crosses and flowers, striking through the pictures with blood X’s. It was a prank, something high school kids would do, but it had been meant as a distraction, pulling me away from the asshole who’d attacked Jenna.
Now, moments after I’d slit the unknown bastard from ear to ear, my hands now covered in blood, I realized that I could be in over my head. The best thing to do would be to keep to my original plan of getting the fuck out of New York. But now, I had a guest in tow. If I left the beautiful young woman, she would be killed, tortured first, as if she knew a goddamn thing about me. But my enemies didn’t know that. If she wasn’t killed immediately, horrible photographs would be sent to me, as the captured image of the lure had been sent to Christos on purpose from the scenes in the park.
Plus, we’d had to do some fancy talking when a beat cop had shown up.
The moment my Capo had walked into my hotel room showing me the text from an unknown source with the disgusting attachment, I should have known a game was being played. I should have realized since I was up against one damn good poker player that I was being tossed around like some fucking pawn.
But I’d chosen to be an arrogant son of a bitch, thinking I could best my enemy with what? A single soldier? In turn, an innocent flower had almost lost her life.
“Jesus Christ,” Christos muttered. “Well, he’s dead.”
“Yeah, which is what he deserved.”
“I kinda thought you’d want to talk to him.”
“About what? The fucking weather? These men are highly trained, ready to die at a moment’s notice. Some even carry cyanide with them instead of risk losing their nerve.” I was furious, so much so that if he wasn’t dead, I would take additional time to torture him as only I could do. “Search his pockets.” Although I knew that was futile.
“This doesn’t appear to be something Viktor would do. It’s too sophisticated.”