Page 72 of Call Sign: King
It was a statement, not a question. It was the only thing that made sense.
In the minutes they’d been parked under the bridge, the homeless men had started to take an interest in the fancy car. As a pair of men approached the driver’s side door, Alexi pulled an AR-15 pistol from between his seat and the gear shift, pointing it in their direction.
The men scurried away, leaving Ryder waiting for Alexi to confirm what Ryder already was beginning to suspect. When Alexi remained quiet, Ryder went for broke.
“She fell in love withyou.”
Alexi let his face fall into his hands.
“And you said I was ballsy taking a job protecting a celebrity. You slept with your cousin’s widow knowing your cousin was actually alive. I’d say you win the dick measuring contest.”
“That’s not the worst of it,” Alexi admitted, suddenly short of breath like he was about to have a panic attack.
“I’ll bite. What is worse than you sleeping with Irena?”
“Me getting Irena pregnant.”
Ryder’s surprised whistle was spontaneous.
“So… what’s your play? Are the Volkov soldiers going to be loyal to you, or will they welcome Vladimir back with open arms?”
The answer to this question was one of the most important of the night. Ryder had played poker with dozens of those men over the years. He’d gone to bars and strip clubs with them. Met their girlfriends and bought their children birthday presents. He suspected a few might be happy to see him. The problem was, which ones?
“Honestly, I wish I knew. We hid his existence from almost everyone. He handpicked his top four men and kept them close, but the others have adjusted well to my leadership. I may have gotten off to a bumpy start, but once I got my bearings, I’ve turned the family businesses around, even taking most of our interests legal.”
Ryder had heard the same updates from his old CIA connections over the years. In ruthless Bratva family measures, Alexi was weak, but that was only because he didn’t take out contracts on everyone who dared cross him.
But would he have the balls to do what needed to be done to save Irena, even if that meant killing his cousin?
“There is no way you live if he finds out you met with me tonight, you know that, right?”
“Da.”
“And you know I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get Khloe Monroe out of there safely. My chances of getting her out of Purgatory alive are abysmal, but with your help, we might have a chance.”
Ryder held his breath. When no answer came, Ryder pressed again. “Alexi… What’s your play gonna be?”
Chapter Twenty-two
KHLOE
Aheavy door slamming jarred Khloe awake. Too exhausted to sit up, she opened her eyes just long enough to see the men who’d been standing guard since she’d arrived long ago were being relieved by two new guards dressed in military fatigues. If she didn’t know better, the men could pass for some of Ryder’s BSO team members.
Just thinking of the BSO team had her heart squeezing with worry. Ryder’s men had put their lives on the line for her. She would give anything for an update on how Trevor and Ricky were doing.
On and on the list of people she loved and was worried about spun in her thoughts. With Ricky hurt, had someone bothered to contact Khloe’s estranged parents? And if they had, did they even care that their daughter was in danger?
And what about the media? She hoped fucking Rita Skeeter was proud of herself. If fame was what she’d wanted, she’d certainly get it, because she would go down in history as the reporter who got Khloe Monroe kidnapped.
She just hoped the headlines didn’t get upgraded toKhloe Monroe Murdered.
As the four armed men chatted away across the room, Khloe laid as still as possible, not wanting to alert them that she was awake. More importantly, moving hurt and since every inch of her body ached in one way or another, she was highly motivated to lie still. The burned flesh on her hip where Vlad had branded her throbbed, making it hard to focus on anything but making it stop.
The only pain that seemed to be slightly better was her previous headache. She attributed that improvement to finally being allowed to drink a bottle of water a few hours ago.
Unfortunately, by drinking, she now also felt the urge to pee. Shifting her body in an attempt to take some pressure off her bladder, she rolled into a wet puddle.
Had she peed in her sleep? That seemed unlikely.
