Page 21 of Brutal Promise

I like precision. I like order. I attribute it to making me a good soldier. We learned how to take orders in college. Over the years, our life experiences bonded us, and we remained friends.

“Great.” He says as we casually double back to the girls. This time, we use a back entrance so we’re not as noticeable. Izzy buzzes us in.

“What’s up?” she asks at the door.

I shove past her with Kirill close behind. Who knew we’d be back so soon?

“You were right. Someone is following you guys,” I say, getting right to the point. I’m in my zone, running the risks and calculating what I need to protect them from the goons downstairs.

Alena acts eerily calm. She must be used to the drill. All she asks is, “How long am I going to be at Dad’s?”

“A few days, maybe.”

“Is Izzy coming too?”

“I need her with me for now,” I interject. “But after that, yes, if that’s okay.”

“For sure. I’ll grab my stuff. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Kirill follows her, and I follow Izzy.

She glares over her shoulder. “What? I have a hound dog on me now?”

“You’ll follow orders, and don’t be a pain in my ass,” I inform her with a tone that indicates she better not fight me on this. Looking around her room, I see a sewing mannequin wearing an incredibly stylish man’s suit. What Michelangelo can do with a brush, she can do with fabric and a needle. I wonder where this talent and creativity will take her. There is a rolling rack full of clothes for dancers and costumes for actors in the corner of her small room.

“You need to pack a small bag for a day or so, and I’m going to need more information from you.”

“Like what?” She rummages around in dresser drawers, and I notice the shirt I gave her to wear home is on her bed.

She snatches my shirt and shoves it into her gym bag along with jeans, shirts, intimate underclothes, and a Ziplock bag already packed with toiletries. Maybe my shirt will make it back to me eventually.

“Did you anticipate this?” I ask, trying to remain objective and professional.

“I like to keep a bag ready in case we make a quick trip to Alena’s house for the holidays or I go to my aunt’s.” She shrugs and zips the bag shut. “It’s efficient.”

“The bag is a great cover.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are men downstairs who aren’t in the bratva.”

She turns toward me, her face drained of color, and her eyes are as cold as a winter night. I know fear when I see it.

“So, we are being followed?”

Her eyes remind me of a natural lake at the base of mountains, clear and still. I’ve only admired the views of this in pictures advertising the state of Wyoming.

“Probably,” I deadpan.

Her blue eyes have a touch of gray. They are as mysterious, and so is she. Instinctively, I know I won’t be forgetting her anytime soon. I remember staring at her sleeping face as the sun warmed the morning sky. I wanted to hold her to me, but it was too personal. I’m going home after this, and as far as I’m concerned, it can’t be soon enough.

9

DMITRY

We are about to leave Greenwich when Izzy’s stomach grumbles.

“You’re hungry?”

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