Page 107 of Dirty Grovel

I smile. “There are many things you should worry about, princess. Getting me back is not one of them.”

Five hours later, my team and I are on the ground in Nevada, racing towards the location that Sydney sent to Sutton.

“Incoming call from Aleph,” Ilya tells me as he presses accept on the car phone.

Aleph’s tough, gravelly voice comes through loud and clear. “Boss, I’ve scoped out the place. Looks like a crack house that the junkies abandoned. Small, dark, boarded up.”

“Is themudakstill camped out in there?”

“Definitely. Infrared scopes show two warm bodies in the corner bedroom. Looks like it’s just him and the girl.”

“Good. We’ll be there in—” I check the distance on maps. “—four minutes.”

Exactly four minutes later, we park down the road from the crack house. My men fan out, waiting for my instructions.

“Surround the house,” I order. “He may be alone in there, but he’s got a hostage and under no circumstances are we to compromise her safety. Is that understood?”

The men agree with a single simultaneous nod.

With a flick of my wrist, I gesture for them to move out. Ilya and Aleph flank me as we charge closer to the house, guns drawn.

It really is a shit hole. The stink of dereliction clings to its rotting walls. The roof has caved in on one side and flocks of green and black mold cluster around the edges of the foundation.

Paul Lipovsky might just be the stupidest fucking criminal I’ve ever met.

I might have been glad about that—but I know from experience that the stupidest criminals are also the most dangerous ones.

“Shall we storm the place, boss?” Aleph asks.

“Let’s give him one more chance to cooperate,” I decide, pulling out Sutton’s phone and pressing call on Sydney’s number.

The call is answered immediately but it’s Lipovsky who speaks, his words clotted thick with anger. “Well, look who’s calling. The snotty little brat who thinks she’s too good for everyone.”

My fists clench with anger. I wait, though. I make myself be patient.

“Speak up bitch,” he growls. “Or did that ugly monster you’re shacking up with ream your throat too good for that?”

I was planning on going easy on him. I might have to reconsider that bit of goodwill now. “The ‘ugly monster’ is right outside your door, dumbass,” I snarl. “Why don’t you come out and say that to my face?”

Silence meets my words. A silence that’s punctuated by a current of fear.

“Y-you’re here?”

The venom in his voice has lost all its clout.

Now, he just sounds like a scared man desperately trying not to shit his pants.

“I’m here and you’re surrounded. Come out now, surrender the woman, give us Drew Anton, and I might go easy on you. This is your last chance.”

“I can’t fucking trust you.”

The line goes dead.

But I spy movement through one of the boards nailed up against the windows.

My earpiece flickers to life as Pavel’s voice comes through. “He’s coming out the back. And he’s using the woman as a shield.”

Of course he is.

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