Page 39 of Kept By the Loan Shark

And he would. Of that, I was absolutely certain.

Once we made it inside, Hagen went to the front door to let Kostya in and I took a seat at the breakfast nook. He returned with the intimidating Russian trailing behind him. I warily watched Kostya as he placed a sinister black leather bag on the island. There was something about him, something in his eyes and the way he moved, that struck fear in me. He seemed secretive and dangerous, and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted Hagen to owe him a favor.

Kostya didn’t bother with small talk. “What did Kyle have access to while you were in the hospital?”

Not wanting to irritate him by taking too long to answer, I quickly said, “My backpack, car, apartment, phone and laptop. He had my keys so he could have gotten into all of my stuff.”

“That backpack?” Kostya gestured to the bag Hagen had carried in for me.

“Yes.”

“May I?”

“Of course.”

While he took my backpack to the nearby island, I ate quietly at the table and watched him work. Hagen sat next to me, his gaze never leaving Kostya and his hand resting comfortingly on my thigh. The Russian went through my backpack, taking everything out and placing it on the marble counter. He retrieved a small device from the black bag he had brought with him and used it to scan my phone and laptop. He frowned and then waved the device over my backpack.

My eyes widened when he set aside the device and whipped out a knife. Before I could tell him not to cut my backpack, he flicked his wrist in a practiced motion that had the knife’s blade sliding out and made a slit in the lining of the smallest front pocket. He used the tip of the blade to poke around and finally found something. He held up a thin black rectangle. “This is an active GPS tracker.”

Suddenly, slicing open my backpack didn’t seem like such a big deal. “Oh my God. How long has that been in there?”

“Hard to say,” Kostya replied as he studied the device. “The battery on this might last a week.” He examined my backpack more closely. “I think he’s probably been putting a tracker on you for a long time. There are small, mended slits here and here…and here.” He pointed them out to us and then scratched at the fabric in a few spots. “Superglue.”

Feeling violated, I asked, “If he’s been following me with a GPS tracker, could he have been watching me in other ways? Like cameras in my apartment?”

“It’s possible.” Kostya set down the tracker. “I’ll need to take your phone and laptop with me to my tech person.”

“We’ll get a new phone and laptop tomorrow,” Hagen interjected, his jaw tight and his voice hard. “I don’t want anything that asshole touched near you ever again.”

“My tech can transfer everything onto your new devices. She runs a security firm so she has laptops and phones in stock. She can give you something similar or better than what you have now.”

“Yes. Have her do that,” Hagen decided.

“I’ll make sure you get the new ones back in the morning.” He glanced toward the garage. “Your SUV unlocked?”

“No.” Hagen got up and kissed the top of my head before taking Kostya out to the garage.

Alone in the kitchen, I finished my last few bites and threw away my trash. When I was done, I stared at my backpack, wondering what in the hell possessed Kyle to do something so bizarre and violating. Why hadn’t I been able to see that he wasn’t my real friend? Was I the only woman he had done this to or were there others?

Kostya and Hagen walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later. Kostya had another GPS tracking device in his hand. He tossed it into his black bag along with the other tracker, my phone and laptop. He touched the keys he had taken out of my backpack earlier. “Are these to your apartment and car?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the address?” After I gave it to him, he nodded and turned his attention to Hagen. “Do you want me to sweep your businesses?”

“Can’t hurt,” Hagen replied.

“I’ll get on it tomorrow.” Kostya picked up his bag. “I’ll text you with any updates.”

“Thank you,” Hagen said and walked Kostya to the front door. When he came back, he held out his hand, and I gratefully went to him, melting into his warm embrace. He pressed his lips to the top of my head again. “I’m sorry this has happened to you.”

“I’m sorry you got dragged into it.”

“I’m not. I’m glad you’re not trying to handle this alone.” His big hand rubbed my back, and I relaxed under his touch. “You ready for bed?”

Realizing just how late it was, I nodded. “Do you mind if I shower first?”

“Do you mind if I join you?” He stroked my face. “No expectations,” he added hastily. “I’m not trying to—”

---