Page 11 of Sins He Taught Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 3)

But I’m going to need those favors soon. Because I’m about to go scorched earth to find the motherfucker who hurt my family. And I plan on using every weapon in my arsenal to make that happen.

So for now, I’ll let the police have their way. Despite the chaos, Niko looks relatively steady—at least, as steady as a little boy can be in the midst of all this madness.

I set Niko down and kneel in front of him. He hasn’t cried or panicked yet. He’s still half-asleep. That will all come later.

“Niko, look at me.”

He turns his big, brown eyes towards me obediently.

“I need you to be a strong boy. Like your father. You have to go with this lady for a little bit, but when that’s done, I’m going to get you and take you home, okay? I’ll be there for you before you even know it.”

He nods slowly, solemnly. “Do you promise?”

“I promise. I’m coming to get you. You’ll be safe with me. But for right now, I need you to be brave and go with this police officer, okay?”

The officer scoffs as if she doesn’t believe me. I know what she’s thinking: that there’s no way a child can be safe with me. I should have this woman taken care of and show her just how far my reach extends. The things my men would do to her and her family would wipe that smug look off her face.

She thinks she’s safe behind that badge.

But no one in this world is ever safe from me.

It’ll have to wait. For now, more important things are pressing. I have to keep my cool for Nikolas. And I have to consider the circumstances—I’m alone, covered in sweat and blood and ash, in the middle of a crime scene, surrounded by damn near half the city’s police department. Every media outlet in the county will be on the way shortly, no doubt, once they make the connection from the explosion.

This is not the time to pick a fight.

So, ignoring the noise of disbelief the officer makes, I hand her Nikolas. “Be good for the lady, Niko. Listen to what she says. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” he says. His voice is as tiny as he is. I watch the two of them head back to the car before I take a seat on the steps outside of Dmitry’s house. I put my head in my hands and groan. My knee throbs incessantly. I need to have it looked at, but right now, there’s too much on my plate.

The only thing I’m certain of is that I need to get Nikolas home before the police break the news to him about his parents. He has no clue what’s going on, that they’ll never be back, and I need to be there for him when he finds out.

It’s what Dmitry would have wanted. It’s the least I can do.

I stride back through the throng of police and nosy neighbors and find my motorcycle. My whole body is a siren song of pain, from head to toe, but I force myself to mount the bike again and take a long, deep breath.

“I swear one thing to you, brother,” I whisper to myself. “I will find the man who did this to you. I will find him and I will make him suffer like no one has ever suffered before.”

The whining sirens of the cop cars parked outside Dmitry and Brianne’s house is the only response from the universe.

I watch as the female cop who had taken custody of Nikolas ushers him into an unmarked detective’s car. She circles around to the front, gets in, and they drive off, disappearing around a corner.

I will not forget that promise to my brother, either. His blood is my blood. His family is my family. And now, his son is mine to care for.

I feel a tap on my shoulder jostle me from my thoughts and turn around. It’s the cop I’d first encountered when I rolled onto the site, the man directing the evidence crews crawling around every corner of the house.

His eyes are furrowed in dark suspicion as he looks me over. “You know, you’re lookin’ a little ashy there,” he drawls. “Mind telling me where you were tonight?”

My first instinct, like always, is to stab the disrespectful motherfucker through the jugular. What a simple pleasure it would be to cut down an enemy right now. This has been a night filled with swinging and missing. With arriving too late. And it would feel so goddamn good to lay my hands on someone who deserves to be hurt.

But I don’t reveal any of these dark thoughts as I stare blankly back into the man’s searching gaze. As always, my first inclination towards violence isn’t exactly the subtlest or most appropriate of responses, no matter how good it would feel. So I force the urge back down into the dark place it belongs, and give the officer an icy smile, devoid of emotion.

“I was cleaning my fucking chimney, sir,” I snarl. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go finish the job.”

He starts to snap something back, but I wrench the throttle open and drown out his words with the roar of my motorcycle. The smoke of burning rubber from the back tire stings the man’s eyes and he hacks a cough instead. I take that as my cue to leave.

With a mocking tip of an imaginary hat, I shift gears. The tire engages with the pavement and I feel the pleasant tug of speed yanking me forward into the night.

It’s just like before, when I first left Daniella back at the mansion. The sensation of acceleration is soothing, reductive. It strips everything unimportant and leaves only me, open and aware like an exposed nerve.

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