Page 46 of Nikolai

Fuck.

"You are to stay here with Leah," I order.

"Yes, sir."

Rushing inside, I grab the keys to my bike.

"What's happening?" Leah stands, worry written all over her face.

Before leaving, I press my lips to hers. "Glory is in trouble. Stay put. Do not leave this house. Understood?"

"Yes."

I kiss her one more time, then turn on my heels.

"Nikolai," Leah calls out, her voice a little shaky, and I throw a look over my shoulder. "Be careful."

Gravel flies asI bring my bike to an abrupt stop in front of the clubhouse, and notice my father running toward his car. I jog up to him as he jerks open the door. He looks at me, his face hard with rage, but his eyes filled with worry for his woman. "Gather all my men. I want them to tear this town apart looking for those sons of bitches." My father barks his orders. While racing back to my ride, I place the call, rallying every man we have in Polson, sending them on a mission to find the bastards giving chase to Glory and one of our men. I throw my leg over the motorcycle. Gravel hits the front of my father's car as I take off ahead of everyone.

Not far behind, Victor and my father peel out of the compound parking lot, following me as I barrel down the highway toward downtown. Rounding a bend in the road, I notice an orange glow lighting up the night sky accompanied by thick grey smoke. My gut tells me I won't like what I'm about to see. My breath gets caught in my throat when I recognized the overturned and mangled car on the side of the road ahead. I slow down when police cruisers block the short bridge we need to cross to get to the other side, our only means of getting to town.

Behind me, tires squeal. Coming to a complete stop, I look behind me. The look on Victor's face as he stares forward makes my chest tighten. The passenger door swings open and my father takes off toward the accident scene as fast as his feet will carry him.

"Sir, you can't –" an officer calls out to stop him. The closer I get to the accident, I notice the tire marks scarring the asphalt and shards of broken glass crunch beneath my feet. My father disappears around the front end of the firetruck ahead. Off to the side, firefighters attempt to put out the blaze. With no thought to his safety, I watch my father run toward the fire.

"Stop!" A nearby firefighter catches him, and they exchange words I cannot hear over all the background noise. Before I reach him, my father turns his head toward where the firefighter points, and I follow. Sasha is lying motionless several yards away from the wreckage as a paramedic hovers over him.

Three more vehicles pull up close to my father's car, and our men step out of them, their eyes searching the perimeter, and taking in the chaos. Halted by the roadblock, they can do nothing but watch as everything unfolds, putting precious time between the men responsible for taking Glory and us.

Leaving my bike on the side of the road, I rush to Sasha. My gut tightens at his bloodied, burnt, and battered body. I've known Sasha and his brother, Victor, my entire life. They are my family. Death is inevitable if they don't get him to a hospital soon. Suddenly, my father is standing beside me.

One of the paramedics looks up. "Are you family?"

"Yes," Victor yells from behind us, and I look over my shoulder. "He is my brother." Victor's voice rises above the noise surrounding us.

"Lost his pulse." The EMT standing on the other side of the gurney yells, sending him and his partner into lifesaving mode. Victor drops to his knees, taking his brother's hand in his. "Fight, Sasha!" he yells at his brother. "Fight!"

My stomach sinks.

"How far out is medevac?" The paramedic questions as he begins chest compressions and the EMT bags, giving him breaths of air.

He pauses and looks down at his watch. "Five minutes." He then addresses Victor. "Sir, please step back." Victor reluctantly releases his brother. He schools his emotions as they try to save Sasha; we all do. "We've got him back. Get him on the stretcher." The paramedic announces as the helicopter touches down in the middle of the highway several yards away. As they secure Sasha to the gurney, one medic turns facing Victor and me.

"They have room for one more," he yells over the noise, and Victor turns looking to my father and me, waiting for permission.

"Go," my father tells him.

The distant rumble of motorcycles draws our attention, and I follow my father as he heads toward Jake and his men, who look to have been stopped by the police.

"Glory?" Jake asks, sitting on the back of his bike.

"She's not here," my father speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. All the men's eyes follow the helicopter as it lifts in the air. "Sasha was the only victim on the scene," he tells Jake.

Looking over his shoulder, Jake signals to his brothers sitting on their bikes behind him. "Search the roads for any possible leads that would give us direction to where Glory could be." Following orders, they make their way down the shoulder of the road, pass the ambulance and firetruck.

A short time later, we are back to the clubhouse, with no leads on which direction she was taken. I'm standing beside my brother, when my father receives a call. "Speak," he barks, grabbing the attention of every man in the room. "If she has been harmed in any way—" his hand clenches at his side. "I'm going to find you, motherfucker. When I do, I'm going to kill you," he threatens the person on the other end of the line.

My father briefly closes his eyes, like he's trying to calm himself. "Vadim has her," he declares. My face hardens. Petrov. A war between the Petrov and Volkov families can only end with death. "That was one of Petrov's men, Andrei." The mention of Petrov's right-hand man turning his back on the family surprises me. "He has Glory on my boat," my father informs the men and me.

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