Page 44 of Escaping the Bratva

He raises an eyebrow. “Is she coming around?”

“Yeah, finally, and then Brighton has to screw everything up.”

We sit in silence for a minute, both lost in our thoughts.

“You don’t have anyone you can call from your past to help out?” Marcello asks. My first thought is Maverick, but then I remember our conversation on the phone. He’s out of the business just as much as I am. Then another name pops in my brain. Alek. I haven’t talked to him in a good while, but once you’re in the Bratva, there’s no way out. The issue is that the brotherhood is not just going to help me out of their good heart. They’ll want something in return. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.

The entire reason Sasha and I broke up in the first place was because of my connections with the Bratva. She’d never be able to look at me again if I fell back into business with them.

“No,” I snap.

His head falls against the pillows. “We’re so fucked.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and my heart stops at the caller ID. Marcello must sense my stiffness because he sits back up in bed.

“Who is it?”

“Caller ID says City of Seattle.”

“Answer it.”

I press the green button and put the phone to my ear. “Hello.”

“Hello. Is this Vladimir Kustov?”

There’s no point in lying. They know who I am anyways since I’m on parole. “Yeah, this is him. What’s going on?”

“This is Officer Barton from the Seattle Police Department. The alarm at your residence went off, and we were dispatched to your home. The front door is wide open, but we haven’t yet entered the property.”

My muscles tighten to the point I feel like I’m going to break the phone. I grind my molars so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if I chipped them. He got her. He broke into my fucking house and got my girl.

“Mr. Kustov? Do you want us to search inside?” the cop says.

“No, I’m on my way.” I hang up the phone and surge to my feet.

“What happened?” Marcello asks, his eyes wide.

“That motherfucker took Sasha. Straight from my goddamn house.” The words are like acid on my tongue. I was supposed to keep her safe. This is just another reminder that I can’t protect her. I leave the hospital and jog to my car. Here I am, dragging her into my bullshit again. I don’t know much about Brighton, but I can only hope he’s just keeping her to torture me. I can’t allow myself to think of the alternatives. Men in the underground world have no respect for women, and the things I’ve seen would give most people PTSD for years. The sun is starting to rise, and luckily, there’s zero traffic because I hit one hundred as soon as I get on the highway. I haven’t prayed in a long time, but as I inch closer to my house, I send up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. I don’t deserve saving after the terrible things I’ve done in my life, but she does.

My house is swarming with cops when I come to a stop. The windows are covered with the piece of metal that is scheduled to come down five minutes after the alarm goes off. I barely get the car in park before I open the door. The police are standing in a small circle on my front lawn, and my face hardens even more when I see my P.O. just to the left of them. I need to get myself under control so I don’t end up back in a prison cell.

I plaster on a fake smile even though I want to kill somebody. “Carson. How’s it going?” I say to my P.O.

“It would be a lot better if I wasn’t here at the crack of dawn.”

“Sorry about that. I guess someone broke in while I was out.”

A brooding police officer comes towards me. “Mr. Kustov?”

“That’s me.”

“Since you’re on parole, we were able to search your residence with Mr. Carson’s go-ahead.”

Stay calm, I remind myself as I shoot a look at Carson.

“We found whoever did this injured your dog. One of our officers has taken him to an emergency vet clinic. Do you mind looking around and letting us know if anything is missing?”

I clear my throat. “Yeah, sure.”

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