Page 82 of Brooklyn Bratva

“I know it’s not. You can trust me. It was a mistake! Mama asked me not to tell you. I should have known better. She thought they were going to destroy you. I’m sorry Ivan. I made a mistake.”

He gave a short shake of his head, and I felt the knot in my throat grow larger. What was that saying about ignorance not being an excuse? I hated it.

“These are just words, Becca. You need to learn. Russians live and die by their actions. It has to be this way.”

But didn’t what we had together count for anything? The only thing that mattered to him was the Bratva. Would he throw me away just like that?

I sniffed hard, unable to wipe away the tears that I could feel start to trickle down my cheeks. I trusted his eyes and his eyes said he didn’t want to do this. That gave me some hope. Even though he was mad at me, I was still his. His body knew we were meant to be together, even when he was this angry. But I couldn’t guarantee he was ever going to come around.

“Ivan, please. Let me make it up to you.”

“How are you going to do that?” He shook his head and slammed the car door closed. The sound rocked through me with as much force as if he’d belted me across the face.

The truth was, I didn’t have a clue.

And Ivan was acting like everything between us was dead and done.

I sank back against the seat, not even caring that the guy in the front was witness to my tears.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and he shoved Katja in beside me and I tried to get a hold of myself.

The guy in the front seat let out a shout of protest. “Hey, man! We’re helping you out here. You can’t go arresting everyone here, there and everywhere. Your girlfriend’s really upset.”

Ivan growled, and for the first time I felt like I understood why my Dad had been so scared for me.

“I need to find Mama. One of you jokers better come up with an idea where she is, or I’m going to call Maxim and solve the problem that way.”

He turned around, glaring at Katja through the grill separating us from the front of the car.

“Where the fuck is your boyfriend?”

Katja stared back at him, eyes hard. “Right next to you. Ruslan is not my boyfriend. I told your friend Maxim all about him. He thinks he-”

“I don’t want your life story. Where is he?”

Katja shook her head and her eyes lowered to the floor of the car.

“Time’s up, I’m calling Maxim.”

I drew in a sharp breath, swallowing hard. Maybe it was a bluff. Maybe Maxim would refuse to do anything to either of us, but I’d seen the coldness in his eyes. I didn’t want to take that chance.

“Katja, please! Ivan can protect you.” I looked at his hard profile through the grill, hurt by the way he was trying so hard not to look at me. “You will, won’t you, Ivan. Do whatever you like with me, but if Katja helps, you’ll let her go and keep her safe, won’t you?”

Ivan nodded his head almost imperceptibly and his eyes flashed to mine for a brief moment. “Yes. You have my word. Where is she?”

Katja looked at me struggling against her tears, uncertainty in her eyes, and then she nodded.

“I heard him say something about a deserted cafe.”

CHAPTER 42

Ivan

I killed the sirens five blocks out, and screeched the patrol car to a halt a half dozen store fronts away from the only deserted cafe. In the whole of the bustling row, the dark window stood out like a knocked out tooth. Slamming on the brakes hard enough to make the wheels slide, I yanked the handbrake on and killed the engine, my door open as soon as I stopped.

“Stay there, Jerome!” I barked. I couldn’t even process what I was going to do with Becca just yet.

Mehmet’s place was eerily deserted. It was the only place in the vicinity that made any sense, and I was pissed that they were using my own headquarters for their means.

I had my service weapon in my hand and I’d radioed for back up. I’d velcroed on my flak jacket. Whatever Ruslan thought he was playing at, ended now. I had the law on my side and I intended to use the full weight of it.

This time, Ruslan wasn’t getting any mercy.

The side of the building only had a bathroom window looking out onto the alley that led to the back, and despite the frosted glass, I passed under it with my back to the wall. The fence to the yard was falling apart, the boards coming away from the posts, and I pulled a couple back to step through, ducking under the cross beam they’d come away from.

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