Page 71 of Puck'N Enemy
“Hey,” I say, picking up Mitchikov’s call.
“I found Dylan,” Mitchikov says in a low, clipped tone. The urgency in his voice alerts me immediately. “Pete’s men have taken him to a luxury apartment in downtown Knightswood. I confirmed it from two separate sources. Dylan isn’t too far away from us.”
For a fleeting moment, my lungs fill with relief. Dylan is no longer missing. We know where he is, so it’s just a matter of time before I reach him.
“Text me the address,” I say, grabbing my jacket and car keys. “I’m going right now.”
“Logan, wait.” Mitchikov’s voice is sharp as a blade.
“What is it?”
“You can’t just storm in there like you’re some kind of a superhero,” he says. “This isn’t a locker room fight. This is the middle of a Bratva turf war. Pete’s making moves on territory that doesn’t belong to him, and the senior families are done playing nice. They’re planning to attack him tonight.”
My hand tightens on my phone. “I don’t care about the Bratva. I have to get Dylan out of there before he gets caught between them and gets hurt.”
“Youshouldcare, though,” he snaps. “Because that penthouse? It’s about to become ground zero. I talked to some people and learned that one of the families is already gearing up to take Pete down. And thanks to my connections, they’re letting us be part of the move. But you need to understand something, Logan. This isn’t a hockey fight. It’s going to be a bloodbath. If you so much as breathe wrong, you’re dead.”
My pulse thunders in my ears at the change in Mitchikov’s demeanor. The guy who casually picks fights and then laughs about being punched is warning me not to be reckless.
“Tell me what to do,” I say in a calmer tone. “Because I’m not leaving him there.”
There’s a long pause. “You really love him, huh?” he says, sighing.
I don’t answer. I don’t have to.
“Fine,” he mumbles. “But you’re going to follow every instruction I give you. No improvising. No hero crap. If youbreak formation, you won’t just get yourself killed. You’ll blow the entire op and Dylan will get trapped by Pete for as long as he breathes. Understand?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
“All right, then,” he continues in a serious tone. “When we go in, it’s going to be chaos. You’ll see armed men shooting at each other. Some will be screaming while others will be dying. You need to stay focused on one thing and that’s to find Dylan. I’ll handle the Bratva guys, so you just keep your head down and follow my lead.”
I swallow hard, my chest squeezing with equal parts dread and determination. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” I vow.
“Good,” he says. “I’ll pick you up in an hour and introduce you to the people running this mission. But remember this. One wrong move and we’re both corpses.”
Closing my eyes for a moment, I think of Dylan and the way he looks curled up in my arms. I have to ensure that peace is restored to him. It’s what I promised him and I’ll do anything to keep my word this time.
I’m coming for you, Dyl, I silently vow. “I’m in,” I say aloud to Mitchikov. “Let’s end this.”
Our car idles in the shadow of a supermarket. Across the street, I have a full view of the luxurious apartment building where Pete’s keeping Dylan. I sit wedged between Mitchikov and a man with icy blue eyes and a face carved from stone.
Everyone in the car, except me, is armed. Even Mitchikov has several guns and knives strapped under his jacket. At this moment, he’s not the athlete I’ve known for the past four years.
He’s a professional killer just like the other men in the car. He’s seen and caused real bloodshed and he trusts me enough to let me see this side of him.
I feel the weight of the baseball bat across my lap. It’s almost laughable compared to the guns in their hands. But Mitchikov had told me bluntly earlier, “You’re not going there to fight the war. You’re going there to grab Dylan. That’s it. That’s all you’ve got to do.”
Taking a deep breath, I bring myself to the present.
From the car window, we have a clear view of the building. Guards in dark suits loiter by the entrance, eyes sharp, scanning every passerby. They look like high-end security, but I know they’re more than that. They’re killers on Pete’s payroll.
The most unsettling thing about the scene is how normal everything seems at first glance. There are regular people walking their dogs on the street. A couple strolls past our car, laughing over something on their phones.
And yet, the tension inside the car is thick and suffocating.
I finally understand what Mitchikov meant. A gang war doesn’t care about outsiders. Anyone walking the street right now could become collateral damage in seconds. But right now, all I can think about is Dylan. Somewhere in that building, he’s trapped, hurt, and scared.
The thought makes me grip the bat tighter.
