Page 179 of Unexpected Heroine

With a tight-lipped, blank face, he blinks seven times. Nope. Eight.

“Open his mouth again,” I snap at Jonesy while moving in with the blood-soaked extractors.

Skidmark jerks his face away from Jonesy. “Okay, okay, okay, fuck.”

I freeze, my hands lingering two inches in front of Skidmark’s mouth. “Who was she?”

“Lenkov’s woman. She does some of his talking for him.”

Need to ask a few more questions before I confirm which Lenkov he’s talking about—Viktor or his father, Nikolai.

“Why?”

He spits blood-tinged saliva on the ground. “We were talking about the flesh operation.”

Red flags start waving in the back of my mind.

“Specifically?” I prompt, giving him enough rope to hang himself.

“Well, we need new facilities since our prep houses were compromised.” He arches a brow at us, the accusation evident on his smug face. “We need more men. More recruiters since we lost our best three guys. We need lots more girls too. There’s a lot to do to get shit back up and running. And we’re under pressure. Time is money.”

“And she was... what? Relaying instructions from Lenkov?”

Come on, come on. Take the bait.

“Sort of.”

I crick my neck to the side, brows raised high.

“She was getting information to take back to Lenkov.” He pauses to swallow, likely buying himself time to think of something clever, but he’s already fucked himself into a corner. “She was also letting me know about some other shit.”

“Other shit?” Aaron echoes, his tone mocking. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Maybe we should let him go now, guys? He’s done enough.”

One corner of my mouth quivers, threatening a smile. “What was she letting you know, Kadin?”

“Uh. I’m not entirely sure. You interrupted us before we got that far in our discussion. Something is happening this weekend. Some big shot is in town. I don’t know who.”

Interesting.

“What’s her name? The woman from the bar?”

I already suspect it’s Katia. Now, I need to know if he’s being honest. Further, his answer will confirm my suspicion that he’s full of shit about who’s in charge of the trafficking ring.

He doesn’t answer immediately, so I drop the dental tools and pull out my knife instead. I spin it around and offer it to Jonesy. “Remove the pinky finger.”

“Wait. No.” Skidmark suddenly finds his words. “What are you going to do to her?” His voice has grown hoarse.

“Are you concerned for her?” I drop my forehead and jut out my lower lip. “Do you have a crush on your boss’s mistress?”

“No, man. She’s pregnant.”

“No shit. What’s her name?”

“Don’t hurt her,” he warns.

When the iron twinge of blood floods my mouth, I realize I bit my tongue. Fuck.

I rear back and punch him, relishing the satisfying crunch of his cheekbone cracking. “You don’t want us to hurt a pregnant mafia mistress, but you were fine hurting my Lettie?” I punch him again. “Tina? Sara?” Two more punches. “Tasha? Sabrina? All the other girls you hurt?”

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