“In a bar. I was on a date and the guy left early. He said something about a family emergency. I was going to go home but then Anton … Anatoly … appeared and offered to buy me a drink.” She plucks at the thin blanket we’re sitting on and looks down, sniffing. “He was so charming and nice. God. I can’t believe I fell for his bullshit.” I’m pleased there’s a thread of anger in her words. Anger will get her through this.
I’m angry too. So fucking angry! Right now, anger supersedes fear. Long may that last.
“I don’t get it though,” she continues. “Why would he do this? And why are you here too?”
I explain what Mickey told me about who Uriov is and his connection to the story I’ve been working on. I leave out the part where Max is also Russian mafia because that just complicates things.
Max loves me. I refuse to believe Max has anything to do with this mess Jane and I are in. He’s not the bad guy.
“So he’s involved with people trafficking?” Jane pales when I nod. From the look of horror on her face, she connects the dots and sees what we’re facing. I could sugarcoat it but what’s the point? There’s no point in pretending this is a hotel and we can check out anytime we like.
“Is this fuckery why James’ car was bombed?”
“I think so, yes.” Anatoly seems like the kind of upstanding citizen who’d think nothing of killing a poor innocent man to get at someone else. He’d also have the kind of resources needed to pull off a car bomb at the last minute, as there’s no way James’ car was targeted for any other reason, and our visit to the shelter was only arranged the previous day.
“Fuck, Nat, I can’t believe you’ve gotten caught up in all this shit.”
Now that the initial panic has receded, she sounds a bit stronger. More like my friend. It gives me hope that we can get through this.
“I’m so sorry, Jane. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be sitting at home right now, watching Selling Sunset and eating chocolate.”
She snorts. “I’ve gotten into Selling Beverly Hills. Mauricio Umansky is hot. And he’s getting divorced so he’s currently single!”
“Better husband material than a psychotic Russian Mafia asshole, then,” I comment with a dry laugh.
“Fuck yeah.”
Neither of us have much to say after that. We huddle up together on the dirty mattress and I try not to think about what Uriov has planned.
Nothing good, I’m sure.
Chapter sixty-seven
Max
My vodka glass hits the wall and shatters. Sasha rolls his eyes and sighs. “Calm the fuck down. Losing your shit isn’t helping.”
He’s right. It’s not like me to get irrationally angry over the cops fucking with us. But on top of all the other problems we’re dealing with, it’s fucking infuriating. A new shipment disrupted and more issues with dangerous drugs flooding the streets. If this carries on, I’ll have no hair left by the end of the year.
“Why does all this feel like a distraction?”
Sasha nods. “Yeah, I agree. I think whoever is behind this shit wants us distracted so we’re not seeing the bigger picture. There is literally no reason I can think of why all these low-level gangs would suddenly start targeting us. It makes no sense. Sending guys to fuck with us is a death sentence for them.”
“My money is still on Uriov.”
“Except I can’t find any concrete links between him and the problems we’re dealing with.” I pull a new glass from the cabinet and ignore the crunch beneath my shoes as I pour a fresh measure of vodka.
“Have you heard any more from Vlad Milosovic?”
Now that he mentions it, no.
“Maybe give him a call and see if he’s having similar issues.”
The fact Sasha needs to remind me about Vlad tells me my head is not in the game. At all. It’s irritating as fuck. I’m just lucky Sasha has my back at all times. If he wasn’t my most loyal friend, I'd be worried he was looking to steal the Bratva from me. But I know he isn’t interested in taking my job. Although, I sometimes wish I could walk away. Live a quiet life, just me and Natalya, plus a few kids.
“Max?” It takes me a moment to focus, the fantasy is a powerful one.
“Yeah, good idea. I’ll call him shortly. It’s possible Zoltan has died and that’s why he’s gone quiet. Handling the transition could be difficult given Uriov’s meddling.”