Page 51 of Deceitful Promises

“Sup,” Mikhail says.

“He’s keeping us waiting, then.”

“Some two-bit wannabe thug,” Mikhail growls.

“Not wannabe. That car bomb could’ve done some serious damage.”

I nod at the elder Sokolov’s words. “He’s damn lucky Ania wasn’t hurt.”

I know it’s a mistake as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Both Sokolovs study me with clear suspicion, their eyebrows raised as if they’re wondering what the hell business that is of mine.

Dimitri gestures to the seat opposite. “Looks weird, you standing there like that.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Mikhail says, and then it’s like his programmer’s brain kicks into action. “Ah, I get it.”

He stands, moving to the seat opposite him, freeing up the one with the back to the wall. I walk around the table and sit down.

“Military man,” Mikhail says. It’s not a question, so I don’t offer an answer.

“What are the cops saying?” Dimitri says. “We haven’t got as many connections here as you.”

“Suspected terrorist attack. That’s the story, anyway.”

“Let’s hope they stick with it. The last thing we need is this Bratva shit going public.”

“I don’t want to be involved in any of it,” I say sourly.

“A good law-abiding citizen, are you?” Mikhail says sarcastically.

“I take it you’ve done some digging if I’m reading your tone right.”

“You’ve dished out your fair share of off-the-books justice,” Mikhail says, “if the word on the street is to be believed.”

“It is.”

“So how the fuck are you better than us?”

“I don’t deal drugs. I don’t sell people.”

“And we do?” Mikhail says in disgust, shaking his head.

“Easy,” Dimitri mutters. “This is pointless posturing. If you want to fight, fight. Otherwise, let’s order some goddamn coffee.”

As we drink our coffees, Dimitri asks, “How is she?”

“Physically, she’s doing well,” I tell him, “but she’s scared. She’s young. She’s naive. She’s too damn innocent for this world.”

The brothers look at me just like Dad did, knowing glints in their eyes.

“Are you married?” Mikhail asks.

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No.”

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