Page 41 of Breakdown
Liv took a long, slow drink, her voice hoarse as she answered, “That’s none of your concern.”
Nik had only met him once, but he’d gotten the impression that a guy like Volkov didn’t have much use for showy displays of power. His ruthlessness spoke for itself. His response to someone stealing his car wouldn’t be fear. It would be rage. This was a man renowned for his capacity for violence. Liv wasn’t a fool, so why did she want to aggravate him? “Why is Peter really going to that garage?”
Liv sighed heavily. “I suppose you’ll find out soon enough. I have a source that knows all about Volkov’s revenue streams. Money is the only way to stop a guy like that. You have to hit them in the cash flow. You ever seen the French Connection? Volkov has. He smuggles his heroin into the country inside the frames of his sports cars, and he has a massive shipment sitting in that car Peter is going to steal.”
Something about Liv’s vulnerability at this moment made Nik believe her, but something was still wrong.
“Volkov tried to kill me last night. I’m out of time,” Liv continued. “Volkov is a big dog in LA but he’s merely a finger of a much larger organization. He has bosses, and if he loses a massive shipment because of petty gangland bullshit, you best believe those bosses are going to call him back to Kazan, Russia and put a bullet in his head. You chop the car, get the drugs out and we burn them, and we’ve won big tonight.”
This tracked. It was smart even, bloodless but ruthless in a way that would appeal to Liv. Nik wanted to join her in her certainty that this all could be ended so easily. It was too easy, too appealing, catered almost specifically for Liv by someone who knew her.
“This source Liv, who is it?”
Liv hesitated. There was a guilty, haunted look in her eye that Nik had seen on Peter’s face a hundred times, but only ever in relation to one man. His stomach roiled. How had he not seen it?
Liv started to lie to him. Nik cut her off.
“Why did you believe your father when he told you about this?”
The can buckled slightly under her fingers, the aluminum giving a faint crunch of protest. “There are plenty of Volkov’s guys in San Quentin and not all of them are smart enough to keep quiet. The intel’s fine, it doesn’t matter who it came from.”
Nik found and held her gaze. And much like her brother, Liv could only stand silence for so long before she began to squirm. “I know how to handle my father, Nik; I’m not that stupid.”
“I think you might have been that desperate,” he countered. She’d been struggling with the business for months. When people were backed into a corner, they made bad decisions. Helena did. Hell, even Nik himself had, working for Erik Bauer. “Sometimes desperate people do stupid things. Your father is very good at exploiting that. When you are in danger, you want to believe that every light at the end of the tunnel is an exit. Sometimes Liv, it is a train coming right at you. Your father would not hesitate to put you under its wheels if it helped him.” It would be just like Erik to feed her something almost too good to be true. Peter could be walking right into a trap.
“Don’t act like you know my family better than I do,” Liv said, narrowing her eyes at him, hiding behind her anger once more. “My father is safely behind bars where he can’t hurt us because I put him there. Not Peter. Not you. Me. Don’t forget that I outplayed him.”
“And do you think that he appreciated being put behind bars so much that he would go out of his way to solve your problems? Perhaps I’ve misjudged him. He always struck me as the unforgiving kind.”
“He doesn’t know it was me and even if he did, he doesn’t want his business destroyed. I’ve got this under control, Nik.” She was doing a bad job convincing Nik, a worse one convincing herself. Liv’s glance slid back down to her phone as if searching it for some kind of reassurance.
Suddenly, the garage exploded in a shower of glass and shrieking metal as a modified Chevy Silverado hurtled through the closest bay door at full speed. Brakes squealing, the rear end fishtailed wildly into the spent oil drum, tipping its black contents over the floor. With a final scraping of its bumper across the pristine paint job on the passenger side of the Camaro, the truck finally came to rest.
“Dave?” Liv’s voice was frantic as she began climbing through the wreckage, her shoes slipping on the oil and debris. Nik knew now why the lifted Silverado looked familiar, but it wasn’t Liv’s boyfriend who was behind the wheel, he realized with dawning horror. Erik Bauer sat in the driver’s seat, dressed in Dave’s much too small Corrections Officer uniform. It almost would have looked funny if it hadn’t been completely terrifying.
Erik opened the door of the truck, his bulk filling the space as he unceremoniously shoved a body out in front of him like a shield. Dave was barely conscious and stumbled, missing the running board. His hands were bound behind his back, and he broke the fall with his chin, his jaw popping with a wet crack. He lifted his face, locking on Liv with unfocussed eyes. “I’m so sorry.” Blood poured from his mouth.
“What the hell did you do?” Liv asked softly, the worry and affection still obvious through her condemnation.
“Oh, don’t blame him, dear. His only fault was being stupid enough to believe me when I told him I would leave you alone if he helped me escape. He wasn’t quite convinced I could do it until my men gave you that little scare last night.” Erik seemed undaunted by the crash, plucking Dave upright as if he were weightless. Prison had only served to amplify his imposing frame, but it wasn’t the sheer immensity of his musculature that sent a paralyzing shiver of panic down Nik’s spine. In his other hand, he held a gun, the metal gleaming darkly as he pointed it in Nik and Liv’s direction.
“You fucking bastard,” Liv said flatly. Her eyes burned with rage and helplessness.
Nikos couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, his heart was thrashing wildly against his ribcage. The garage seemed to shrink around him, narrowing his vision until all he could see was the barrel. It was black and hollow, staring back at him like a blind, cold eye, and the only thought Nik could manage was to wonder if this was how Helena felt the moment before she died.
Dave was still trying to explain himself. “He told me you were going to be attacked and you were. You told me it was Volkov, but—”
Erik shoved him forward. “Quiet, young man, this doesn’t concern you anymore. This is between me and my traitorous daughter.”
Nik couldn’t fully process it all. He felt as though his body was shutting down from the excess of stimuli. Liv was unnervingly calm. Instead of shrinking from Erik’s advance, she met him head on, stepping a delicate circle around the broken glass. “You’ve got the wrong kid, Dad. Peter’s the one that cut the deal with the DA. I protected your business. I protected your legacy. I was nothing but loyal.”
Righteous anger brought Nik back into his body. Moments ago, Liv was crowing about taking Erik down. Now, she was awfully willing to disavow her supposed masterstroke and offer Peter up as a sacrificial lamb. He dragged his gaze away from the barrel of the gun and was surprised when Liv met his eye if only for a moment, a quick, pleading flick he almost missed.
“Oh, trust me, I haven’t forgotten your brother’s part in all of this. Frankly, I expected that of him.” Erik followed Liv’s wide path towards him, first with the gun’s muzzle and then, instinctively, with his body, pivoting in a boxer’s circle. “But you? Oh sure, you were loyal. Right up until it didn’t serve you anymore. So, I’ll admit, I’m disappointed in you in particular.
“You decided you wanted the business for yourself and so you helped Peter orchestrate my little trip to San Quentin. Come on, Olivia, I know your handiwork. I should; I taught you myself. Don’t think I haven’t known since day one that this had your fingerprints all over it.”
She raised her hands, all amicable deference. “Look, if you want to step back into the role, it’s all yours, old man. They’re going to be looking for you, and your head start’s only going to last for so long. Better choice for you is to take whatever cash I’m willing to give you and get the hell out of Dodge while you still can.” Liv lured Erik another quarter turn, her smile a knife’s edge. “We can go to get it right now if you want.”
