The Hit Page 2

I head inside and go straight to my library. Pouring two thick fingers of vodka into a glass, I down it. Probably not the best idea after the whiskey earlier, but I need to calm the fuck down so I can think.

  For the first time in my life, Justina has become a complication. She’s someone I love like a sister and someone I swore to protect, but now she might mean harm to Violet. Justina loves me, but she hates her old life more.

  She’ll do anything to avoid going back to those days. If she thinks Violet might be the catalyst for Allyov turning against me, will she decide the best thing to do is preempt such a thing? Call him herself and tell him who Violet truly is?

  Probably not. She’s scared of Allyov, but she might call Donna. For some reason, Justina seems to think she can trust the bitch.

  My head is splitting, and my stomach is sour. I could preempt things. I could call Allyov. It’s a risky fucking move, but at least it’s a move. If I tell him who Violet is, he’ll know straight away she must have been planning to harm him. I can tell him the truth: she’d realized she couldn’t do it and had been about to leave. Will he care? Or will he put a bounty on her head? If he does, I don’t think I can protect her. Not against all the forces he’d command.

  Thing is, if Damen and Alesso found out the information about her, it’s only a matter of time until someone else does. Allyov, if he’s still looking. Or maybe worse. I know for a fact Kyrylo keeps tabs on me and anyone who is senior within Allyov’s organization. It’s part of the cold war the two have going on.

  Kyrylo can’t prove I killed his brother, but he suspects it. No way he won’t have found out by now I had a pretty little blonde with me at one of Allyov’s clubs. If he starts digging into her past and finds out Violet is the daughter of the man who betrayed him, she’s dead.

  I can give her my protection, but without the wider protection of Allyov and his crew, it won’t count for an awful lot.

  I’d sell out, take my savings and Violet and leave. Go find a hideout somewhere they won’t come looking. New Zealand, Japan. But Allyov’s crew has ties everywhere. Their tentacles slip into every continent, every nation.

  Would she even go with me? Probably not after what transpired here.

  God, I owe her. I tell myself I shouldn’t feel this way. She’s the daughter of the enemy, but I owe her. I scared her and hurt her, when she’d placed her trust in me. I saw red. Thankfully not so red I lost control completely, but enough to screw up big time.

  I’ve got to make sure she’s safe. I realize, with startling fucking clarity, it’s all that matters to me. More than revenge even. Suddenly the one thing I’ve been living for is no longer so important to me.

  I think for a moment, and then it comes to me.

  The one way I can guarantee to keep her safe is to offer myself up to Allyov as the second he wants me to be, but only in return for Violet’s protection. She’ll need to be with me too. I’ll have to bring her back, have her stay with me … for a long time possibly. It will be torture having her here if she now hates me, but I don’t see any other choice.

  She won’t be safe otherwise. It all depends on how much Allyov really wants me by his side. Will he overlook someone planning to kill him in order to bind me to him?

  I pace the room, part of me tempted to simply slip into his club this evening and take him and the lot of them out. I can’t, though. It would be insanity. What people don’t get about people like Allyov is that there’s a code. Kyrylo might hate Allyov, but if I murder my boss and his family, you can bet your life Kyrylo will have a target on me within minutes.

  It goes against every bit of code these guys live by for me to do so, and I’d be viewed as a loose fucking cannon. Right now, Kyrylo and Allyov have a stalemate. I take Allyov out and fuck the fine balance between them up, and Kyrylo won’t like it one bit.

  Shit. What a fucking mess. My first option has to be to talk to Allyov. Fuck it. If I get myself killed, it will be poetic justice for what I’ve put Violet through because I can’t get the image of her pissing herself out of my head.

  I fucking hate myself.

  Heart pounding, I pick up the phone.

  Allyov answers on the third ring.

  “Andrius, my brother.” He always calls me his brother, but then in the next breath he tells me he wants me to be like another son to him. I shouldn’t trust him, yet now I have no other choice.

  “What you offered, about me being your second, standing at your side?”

  “Yes?” There’s hope in his voice. “Are you going to say yes to me? Because let me tell you, your timing couldn’t be better. My useless piece of shit son is, this very afternoon, being shipped off to rehab. Again.”

  He sighs, and I can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose as he has a habit of doing.

  “I’ll do it,” I say. “But there’s a condition attached, a favor, and it’s massive.”

  “Oh?” There’s caution in his tone now. ‘What?”

  “Not over the phone. I’ll meet you at Sugar Dolls.” I name one of the quieter strip joints he owns. One situated out of town near a few run-down industrial parks.

  “When?”

  “Can you make it this evening? Or is it too busy?” I don’t mention the rehab situation again, don’t want to piss him off by bringing it up.

  “No, this evening is fine. Donna is dealing with our useless offspring.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you there at eight.”

  I hang up and stare out the window unseeingly. If Allyov takes what I’m about to tell him badly, I’ve signed my death warrant. I ought to take some backup. Leave Violet with Alesso and take Damen. Even ask Reece to help out, plus some of the guys who work with me whose loyalty lies with me, but I won’t. I can’t put them in danger.

  If Allyov doesn’t accept my terms, we’re at war with one another, and he’ll come after me at some point. I need him to accept them, and turning up with an army at my heels won’t start the meeting off on the right tone.

  I head upstairs and purposefully don’t look into the empty guest room where Violet has been staying. Heading to my room, I turn the shower onto the so-powerful-it-stings mode, and while it’s warming up, I take out one of my best suits, laying it out on the bed. I select a silvery tie that Justina once said made my eyes look scary. Scary is good right now. Black shoes and a handkerchief will complete my outfit. Then I cross to another wardrobe, one with a key to it, and when you open the locked door, nothing but a safe is inside.

  Entering the combination to the safe, I take out my Colt and put it in my concealed holster. I’m half tempted to take some serious firepower with me or to call the miserable-faced friend of Reece’s, Liam, and demand he and Ethan come with me and wait outside in case things go south. Liam owes me big time, but it’ll only fuck things up more for Violet if I turn up with an army.

  The front door slams, and footsteps pound up the stairs.

  “Andrius? Andrius? Where are you?”

  Justina sounds half-crazed and my heart sinks. Has she been to Allyov?

  “What?” I step out of my bedroom onto the landing. I find it hard to be civil to her after the way she kicked Violet. It might sound hypocritical, but I didn’t do anything to actually harm Violet in any way, not even after I lost it when she spat at me. In fact, I fucked up my hand instead of laying a finger on Violet when I wasn’t in control. Justina, though, she could have given her organ damage.

  “Where is she? Where’s Violet? You didn’t do it, did you? I freaked out and lost my mind. About ten minutes after I left, I began to realize I’d done a terrible thing. I pulled into a layby because I was sick, but once I’d gotten myself under control, I drove back here as quick as possible. Shit, I panicked, I fucked up, but you can’t kill her. Where is she?”

  Her eyes are wild and red-rimmed as she looks around.

  “She’s safe and sound, but not here. I’ve sent her away. To keep her safe while I go talk to Allyov.”

  “What?” Her eyes get wilder and wider. “You c
an’t. He’ll kill you. He’ll kill you, and then he’ll go for her.”

  “He won’t find her. She’s safe for now, and I’m about to make a phone call that will keep her safe for a lot longer. As for you, how do you feel about a vacation?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “You said I’d always stay with you. Don’t send me away.”

  “Only for a few weeks. It’s not safe.”

  “No, I can’t. I don’t want to. I can’t bear it. I’d rather stay here and face the music with you, whatever it is.”

  I stare at her and can see the truth in her eyes, her fear at the thought of not being with me, and I realize I’ve fucked up with her too. I should have sent Justina away after I got her out of the brothel, should have insisted.

  Now, she’s utterly dependent on me. Not financially. I imagine with what I pay her, she’s got enough stashed away to last years. Emotionally, though, she’s terrified of being without me, which if I go and get myself killed is going to be hard as fuck on her.

  Once this mess is sorted, I need to encourage Justina to gain some independence.

  “Okay.” I tip her chin up. “Get your gun, lock the door, set the alarm and don’t open it for anyone. Justina, I know you don’t want to leave me, or this house, but if I don’t come back, you’ve got to get out of here. In the study, there’s a small lockbox; it’s stuffed in the back of the old writing desk you bought me. The key is in the pot of the Aloe Vera plant on the window ledge. Take the money in there, it’s about ten grand, and use it to get somewhere fast. Go to Greece or Italy and lay low. If you think you’re in danger, call Alesso. He’ll help out.”

  She nods and bites her lip.

  “I should be back within a few hours. If I don’t arrive back by midnight, then leave. Take the cash, and go get on a flight somewhere, okay?”

  She nods again, and I let go of her face because I can’t look at her tear-stained features anymore. It makes me feel as if I somehow failed my dead sister, which is stupid, but at times Justina’s resemblance to her is uncanny.

  “Set the alarm as soon as I’m gone,” I say, jogging down the stairs.

  Once I’m out the door and in my car, I realize I’ve broken my golden rule about not drinking and driving, but then again, I feel as sober as a judge. I think I could drink a bottle of vodka and not feel it right now. Must be the adrenaline coursing through me.

  I arrive at the strip club with plenty of time to spare and head inside to get a drink from the bar, then I go and sit in a corner, a quiet one far from the bar or stage.

  I sip at my drink as I wait for Allyov and whatever fate holds for me.

  Chapter Two

  Violet

  I don’t say a word on the journey to the hotel. What can I say? My heart is broken into a million pieces, and I don’t think it can ever be fit back together again.

  To find out my father may have done such an evil deed, and from a man I thought I might be able to love, is soul destroying. I don’t think I can forgive Andrius for the way he told me.

  It’s way worse than the other stuff.

  At the time everything went down, I had thought Andrius was going to kill me. Now I’ve calmed down. I know he wouldn’t have truly hurt me. He did terrify me, scared me half to death. But when he grabbed my wrists, it stung but left no marks. My throat feels totally fine. Even where he pulled my hair doesn’t hurt now, and I had worse at school when I think about it. I presume my heightened fear and emotions made everything seem so much worse at the moment.

  I have sympathy for Andrius too, despite half hating him. After all, he must be sick to his stomach that he’s been sheltering me with what he believes about my father.

  How could I have ever guessed what I’d have set in motion when I decided to spy on Allyov?

  What a tangled web we have woven, the three of us. And now, I’m wondering just how much Allyov knows. Does he know it all? Who I am? Did he decide to fuck with Andrius by giving me to him? The possibilities are endless and all awful.

  The two men up front are silent as they drive, and if I had the energy to do so, I’d probably be scared. I don’t care, though. Not anymore. Frankly, if they shoot me, it saves me nothing but further heartache.

  I can’t live with this knowledge about my father burning its way into my soul, corrosive and bitter. I need to find out the truth, to prove to myself he wasn’t a monster.

  I know of only one way of doing so. To find this Kyrylo they all say he worked for and ask him outright. Except Andrius says Kyrylo will kill me if he knows who I am. Or worse. While I don’t seem to care whether I live or die, I don’t want to be tortured or used as a fuck toy by some violent thug.

  “We’re here.” Alesso turns and smiles at me.

  I don’t have the energy to try to muster one in return.

  My door is opened, and I shake my head at Damen. These mobster types have strangely impeccable manners. Although, these guys don’t dress the smart way Andrius does. No three-piece suits for them. They’re both wearing jeans. Damen’s are dark and fitted, tapering at the ankles as is the style these days. Alesso’s, though, are more old-fashioned. Faded, comfy-looking Levi’s, which I prefer.

  In fact, if I weren’t consumed by the half-love, half-hate I feel for Andrius, and the horror over the news about my father, I might notice Alesso. He’s incredibly handsome, but his face is also nice. He looks as if he’d be a good guy to go get a coffee with and shoot the breeze. Not so with Damen. He looks like he’d turn milk sour if he glanced its way.

  Miserable bastard.

  He ought to try a day in my shoes, then he’d have something to be miserable about!

  I haul my aching carcass out of the car, aching from stress rather than pain; even my stomach isn’t sore now. I stare miserably at the grand country hotel. It’s the sort of place I’d have been delighted to stay in normally.

  “Come on, Violet. We’ve already got a room sorted, a suite.”

  I follow Alesso and don’t say anything.

  We go into the plush lobby, and I follow the guys to the lifts, and then out of them on the third floor and down the corridor to another smaller lift. Alesso presses a key against it and then the call button. We step inside when it arrives, and it smoothly glides up one more floor. It opens onto a corridor with only one double door on it.

  Damen heads to it and takes a key card out of his pocket, opening it.

  Inside is opulent and old-fashioned but with modern twists. The dark wooden furniture is offset by a huge white vase on one cabinet. In the living area there’s a vast widescreen tv and a Chesterfield sofa facing it. The sofa has these black cushions that look like silk, with emerald green palm leaves on them. If I gave a shit, I’d probably be impressed.

  “You can take the room on this side.” Alesso points to a room to the right of the living area.

  I can only see one other door, which leads off to the other side of the room. “Where will you two sleep?”

  Alesso shrugs. “In there. One of us is going to be up watching this door at all times.”

  The sense of danger I’m in strikes me then, and I wait for the awful fear and anxiety to hit. The same feelings I got when given to Andrius, but there’s nothing. Nothing but this awful, gnawing numbness and despair eating away at my gut.

  “Can I have a laptop?” I think they’ll laugh and tell me no, and they do say no, but there’s no laughter from Alesso.

  Damen is watching me, and he turns to Alesso. “Brother, can you give me five minutes with Violet, please?”

  Alesso frowns, but nods, and heads into the room they’re sharing. My stomach flips, and I back away from Damen. What does he want with me?

  His eyes are dark, so dark I can’t read any intent in them. His jaw is hard, his nose a blade, and his mouth a firm slash of tension in his face. There’s nothing soft about him, unlike Alesso with his warm blue eyes and his devastating smile.

  “Sit, please.” He indicates the sofa, and I do warily.

  He grabs a
laptop, small and sleek, the kind I’d have if I had the money to buy one.

  Sitting next to me on the sofa, he’s boxing me into my corner. I’m aware of his heft, his size. His jeans are stretched across massive thighs, and I want to scoot away from him, but I have nowhere to go.

  He opens the laptop lid and types something so fast I can’t make it out, which pisses me off because if I can remember his password, I can try to log on at some point and start to do some digging.

  “I’m going to show you something now, Violet, and it is going to be hard for you to take. I’ve thought about whether this is the right thing to do or not. You’ve got to be in shock, but see, I believe in knowing the truth. In being in control of your destiny, you can’t be in control if you don’t know the truth.”

  His fingers are flying over the keyboard as he speaks. Then he stops and looks at me, and I see it then, compassion, swirling in the depths of his deep chocolate eyes.

  “So, Violet, do you want to know the truth? As bad as it is, do you want to face what’s coming knowing the real issues here? Who the real bad guys are, and who the good guys are?” He smiles then, the first I’ve seen, and it looks tight, as if his facial muscles aren’t used to making the expression. “When I say good guys, it’s a matter of degree. None of us in this world are good, but some of us are much less bad than others.”

  His accent is nice. Softer than the harsh consonants of Andrius and Justina, but not as flowing as a French accent.

  I watch him as I consider what he’s saying to me. He’s going to show me evidence, proof of what my father did. I know it. My stomach cramps, and I bend over, arms wrapped around my middle. Do I want to see it? Can I bear to see it?

  I’m not sure if I can. It’d be so much easier for me to say no, go to my room and crawl under the covers. But then, I was going to go searching as soon as I got the chance, wasn’t I? Except, I had believed I’d be finding proof my father was innocent.

  I see Andrius’ face as I think about it. The pain he’d shown when he’d asked me to tell the truth for both our sakes. I hadn’t been able to, hadn’t known what he was talking about. Don’t I owe it to myself to face the truth now? To Justina? To Andrius’ sister? To any of the other women my father might have hurt?