Leverage (33 page)

Greg walked into the darkness at the far end of the container. “We have so many dark family secrets, you and I,” he said quietly. “Things we don’t want anyone else to know. Like your deed earlier, for example, murdering the man who killed your brother. You should know, it’s all been recorded for posterity’s sake.” He chuckled. “I always knew what you were capable of, Karras. It’s in your blood, your DNA. And Nick gave up a lot about you near the end. I heard what you did to poor Hannah, and what you almost did. Any man capable of that can surely kill in cold blood.”

He rapped his knuckles twice against the container’s door. Metal squealed and scraped against metal, and a single door swung open. It was enough to let light seep inside and for Greg to pass through. He paused just outside and turned back to me, the light illuminating half his face and body. He pointed toward the gum and mints on the cot.

“You might want to freshen up,” he said. “I have a surprise for you, one you’ll enjoy.”

“You have nothing I want.”

“Oh, but I do. Your wife, she asked for a favor, and I’ve decided to grant her wish. I have a car waiting to take you to her. My gift to you both.”

With that, he smiled sadly, and locked me back into the darkness.

The doors on Maks Sidorov’s BMW locked automatically as he roared out of the parking lot of Tyler’s contracting business. I glanced around the cabin as he navigated down Mercer Street.

“Is this an M5?” I asked, unable to keep from fingering the sleek dash with its onboard computer or the supple black leather of the seat beneath me. It was one badass ride, and expensive as hell.

“Yep,” Maks replied casually.

I looked over at him. “The FBI must pay pretty well then, huh?”

He kept his eyes on the road as we veered left onto Broad Street. “No, not really,” he said. “It’s my wife’s car actually.”

“She’s got good taste. How’d you meet her?”

“Law school,” he answered coolly then changed the subject. “No more polite chitchat. Tell me what you know about Karras.”

“You first,” I insisted.

“Come on, Conner, stop playing games,” Maks warned. “This is serious shit you’re mixed up in. These people are killers, and they have your mother, so you tell me what you know right now, or I’ll book you on obstruction and bury your ass in jail. As I recall, you didn’t do too well there. You’ll get more of the same if you don’t start cooperating.” His eyes were hard and challenging, his threat real.

I swallowed hard and turned away, staring blindly out the window as we drove along the waterfront. Fuck that! I wasn’t going back to jail, not for Ty. He didn’t know what he was doing anyway, and I seriously doubted he’d be able to free my mom and Katy, but maybe Maks could. I took a deep breath and released it.

“You have a mole,” I declared and glanced at Maks to catch his reaction.

He paled, his fingers tightening around the wheel. “What are you talking about?”

“There was a phone…in the rice.”

Maks shook his head. “What? What phone? What rice?”

“At the house in Alki, your agent ordered Chinese food. Someone hid a cell phone in the rice, and Ty found it. There was a text message. Ty kept it from your men and answered it in the bathroom. I don’t know what they said, but that’s when Ty insisted on going to his office. Greg and some goon were hiding inside. His men tased your agents, not Ty. Then they took us away.”

“Took you away where?” Maks pressed as we ventured into SoDo, down past the ballparks in the more industrial area running along the Duwamish River.

“Uh-uh. Not until you tell me about Ty and my mom. And don’t hold back just ‘cause you think I won’t like it. I’ve already learned a bunch of shit about him anyway.”

He glanced at me, his jaw ticking. “Like what exactly?”

“Couple months ago, I overheard my mom and Ty talking. I know those Russians killed his brother, and I know they did something to my mom, too, hurt her in some way. I understand Ty saved her somehow, but I don’t know how either one got involved or why they ended up together. I need to know how we all got here, Maks, why these pricks are after us now.”

Maks mashed his lips together so hard, his mouth was nothing but a stiff score slashed beneath his nose. It matched the fierce set of his brow behind the thin frame of his glasses.

“All right, I’ll tell you what I know, or…what I guess rather, but just understand, it’s conjecture on my part. None of it was ever fully investigated or verified, so…take that into consideration, all right?”

I nodded, but promised nothing. After listening to his theory, I was surprised at how closely it resembled what Greg had told me about Ty, his dead wife, and how my father’s mistress had brought them all together. His speculation about Ty leveraging his brother’s connection to the Russians was spot-on.

“How was Ty planning to get revenge?” I asked, needing to know for sure if what Greg had said was true.

Maks balked at first, obviously uncomfortable, which only made me bristle harder and become more insistent, but Maks ended up confirming it all, though he added a few details Greg had left out.

“As blinded by revenge as Ty might’ve been,” Maks said, “he’s
not
a bad guy. He was way out of his league, and in over his head, so when he mistakenly grabbed your mother instead of the other woman, all bets were off. He couldn’t go through with whatever plans they’d made, though, knowing the
Bratva
, I’m sure whatever deal was struck, the Russians believed it forged in stone. No going back. So it was either Nick or your mother, and Ty’s brother lost.

“He did manage to save your mom, but not until after they’d already gotten their hands on her. I don’t know for sure what happened. My team tried to interview her at the hospital the night Ty brought her into the emergency room, but she wouldn’t cooperate, even though she was roughed up pretty badly.” He stopped talking, his eyes glued to the road.

I nodded. “I remember her ribs were broken. That what you mean?”

He turned to look at me and his eyes were hard. “Conner…” he said, but didn’t finish, yet the look in his eyes was very revealing.

Then I recalled the day I’d argued with Mom and Tyler in the driveway. She said she’d kept the truth from me in order to protect me, that Ty had saved her from a fate worse than death. At the time, I remember thinking there were only a couple things a woman would find worse than death. Could it be?

I shook my head. “No…no, not…not
my
mom. You’re wrong.”

“Conner…I’m sorry, but…the medical and forensic reports don’t lie.”

“No, Maks. That would mean that…that Ty had…that he was responsible…” I pressed my fingers hard into my eyes and turned my face toward the side window.

I was certain now. Everything Greg had said was true. Ty had planned to kidnap a woman and sell her to the Russians as a sex-slave in trade for his brother’s freedom, just like he’d said. And while Ty might have reneged once he’d found out he’d targeted the wrong woman, my mom had still ended up in their hands. Thinking back to how broken she was in the days following her return from California, how hollowed out and frightened she appeared, I knew, in that moment, in the deepest part of me, after surviving the same fate, exactly what they’d done to her.

And it was Ty’s fault.

He’d put her there. It didn’t matter how hard he may have tried to keep her from them, how remorseful he probably was, or that he’d saved her in the end. It didn’t matter that they’d grown close. It didn’t even matter that they loved each other now. She’d been raped, and by God only knows who or how many times.

Ty was responsible for that. He’d put us both there. It was his fault.

My legs began to twitch, and my fingers twisted around themselves. I kept my face turned to the right, staring out the window, afraid to meet Maks’ gaze. It would just confirm everything. And knowing he and Tyler were actually friends on some level made it worse. How could he stand to be around Ty if he suspected him of doing those things?

I spun back around to face him. “Why isn’t he in prison?” I asked. “If you suspected Ty had done all that shit, why didn’t you investigate, build a case against him and throw his fucking ass in jail? You’re the goddamn law, for Christ’s sake! You have a duty to protect and serve, but you let him go, and now my mother and I are paying the price!”

Maks raised his hand. “It’s not as easy as—”

“That’s fucking bullshit!”

“Hey now, your mother’s the one who wouldn’t cooperate. She wouldn’t even make a statement against Karras, and we felt much of what she did reveal to be false. She went out of her way to protect him. And we had bigger fish to fry. We were after Chernov, and Ty was the only one who could deliver him, so we swung a deal—”

“A deal? Are you fucking kidding me? Shit!” I swore and turned away again, but then something occurred to me. “What about my house?” I asked.

He shook his head and shrugged. “What about it?”

“Surely you were aware. The place was fucking torn apart. The front door was kicked in, blood everywhere. That’s what the police report said.”

Maks gawked at me with that serious frown of his.

“That was Ty, wasn’t it?” I asked. “When he first found my mother and thought she was that other woman, my dad’s girlfriend? That was my mom’s blood.
He
did that to her.
He
hurt her first, didn’t he?”

“That’s not what your mother reported.”

“Yes, but you knew she was lying. You just admitted that.”

“She insisted it was one of the Russians. Tyler later killed him at a roadside motel in Oregon after the guy busted in and started shooting up the place. Your mom stood firm that Ty was protecting her. Whatever happened between those two, she wouldn’t roll on him, and without her testimony, we had no case, so we offered Ty immunity if he testified against Chernov. He accepted and went into witness protection. He never expected to see your mother again. But then the
Bratva
disbanded when Chernov died, before Ty even finished testifying, and whatever threat there was died with him. Or so we thought.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what those Russian fucks wanna do to Ty. Whatever it is, I hope they do it, but if they don’t, I want
you
to put him away.”

“Conner, I told you, I don’t—”

“You said you’d made a deal and Ty was supposed to testify, but that dude died before Ty finished, right?” I asked and Maks nodded. “Well, then, I’d say your deal is null and void.”

He shook his head again. “Doesn’t matter. Without your mother, we have nothing.”

Fuck nothing! I wanted that bastard put away for what he'd done to my mother, for what he'd put her through—for what he'd put
me
through. And now, I had the means to do it. I pulled out the piece of paper I’d swiped from the file Greg had given Tyler.

“Well, maybe you do,” I said. “Or will, anyway, once you catch Ty in the act.” I smoothed the paper out on my knee and held it up for Maks to see.

He looked at me with confusion etched across his brow. “The act of what?” he asked.

I smiled. “Murder. In the first.”

A few hours after meeting with Greg, Danny retrieved me from my room and escorted me downstairs, back toward the rear of the house, through a kitchen any master chef would covet, and out through a ten-foot-high wall made entirely of French doors. Just outside was a flagstone deck that surrounded a large freeform pool, its steaming lighted surface sparkling like the azure waters off Belize. At the far end was a cottage, a tiny replica of the one mirrored across the pool, and beyond that laid a dark expanse of open water, broken only by the occasional glint of moonlight that rippled off its calm surface. The dwelling, which protruded over the inky waters of the lake, was a combination pool and boat house, raised above the lake’s edge to garage a collection of watercraft below.

Inside, the house glowed with a blazing fire. Dozens of candles burned on every available surface. Danny positioned me in the center of the common room then proceeded to slide the linen drapes across the wrought iron rods set above the wall of French doors at the pool and lake sides of the cottage. I instantly felt as if I were cocooned in a soft web of light. Without a word, Danny left the way we’d come, making sure to lock the doors behind him.

I spun around in place, soaking in every detail of the perfectly decorated bungalow. On my third rotation, a shadow moved and caught my eye. I held my breath as Tyler emerged from the darkness of a side hall. A small gasp hiccupped from between my lips, and tears flooded my eyes. He moved into the flickering firelight and smiled. And even though it was one of the saddest smiles I’d ever seen on his face, at that moment, the beauty of it—of him, of just knowing we were in the same place at the same time—overwhelmed me like a rogue wave, and I ran to him as if swept away in its current.

I closed the last foot in a single leap and jumped into his embrace, coiling my arms around his neck in a death grip. There were no immediate words spoken, only our bittersweet weeping as our bodies shook with pent-up emotion. I clung to him as he walked us out into the great room. He stopped before the grand fireplace, and I slowly released my stranglehold and slid off his body, but I couldn’t take my hands from his beautiful face. My thumb smoothed across the bruise that cradled his left eye and swept down over his cheekbone. He winced for the briefest moment then closed his eyes and sighed as I cupped his face in both hands.

We stood there for what seemed like forever, just staring into each other’s eyes. But I knew Greg wouldn’t grant us much time, so I lifted myself up onto my tiptoes and leaned in for a kiss. Tyler’s arms snaked around me and pulled me in tight. Our bodies felt like they were melting into each other as our kiss grew urgent and our passion exploded.

Earlier, I’d asked if Greg would be watching us via hidden camera, and he reassured me we would have complete privacy. For whatever reason—his tone perhaps, which sounded sincere, or the strangely intimate look in his eyes—I believed him, and I truly felt Tyler and I were alone. So when our kiss grew intense, I felt comfortable enough to tear Ty’s t-shirt from his body and throw it to the floor near the hearth. I needed to be as close to him as possible.

With his body half-naked, my hands had a mind of their own and skimmed across every inch of his smooth, broad chest and the defined muscles that bunched up along his shoulders and across his back. I reveled in how they rippled beneath my fingertips. The light from the fire danced across his face, and a spark ignited like a star in the sapphire depths of his eyes. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once on my body—stroking my face, entangling in my hair, palming the curve of my neck, and cupping the roundness of my backside.

Then his lips were on mine again, and, as one arm curled behind my back, the other swept my legs from beneath me. He cradled my body as he lowered me onto the furry rug lying in front of the slate hearth. The coolness that clung to the floor crept over my flesh in a wave of goosebumps until Tyler laid his length down on top of me. When I flinched in discomfort, he shifted to the floor beside me and kissed me once more, finishing with a sweep of his fingers down over my temple, to my cheek, and along my jaw before his eyes locked onto mine.

He gazed at me like he couldn’t get enough, like I was his whole world and he’d stop at nothing to keep us from being separated again. That look, it was full of love and passion and longing, but also pain and fear, with the expectation that we might not make it, that this could very well be the end. I wanted to touch that part deep inside him, to erase that fear and ease his pain. I wanted him to know, no matter what happened, I loved him now and forever, that nothing he’d been forced to do in the past or could do in the future would ever change that.

As I sat up, I pushed Ty down onto his back. Staring at his mouth, I trailed my fingers over his lips then down to his chin, where the stubble had grown out into a scruffy days’-old beard. I hadn’t seen him unshaven like that since we’d first met. I sighed at the painful memories it brought to mind then moved my touch to his well-muscled chest, circling his nipple before lowering my mouth to it. He gasped and laced the fingers of one hand through my hair while his other hand fisted a handful of his own.

I loved the small cry of pleasure that gurgled up into his throat. It made me bold, and, with my tongue, I blazed a path down his chest to his ripped abdomen, flicking my tongue into his navel for just a moment before moving lower still. Opening his jeans, I slipped my hand inside and found him more than ready. He was hard and throbbed in time with his heart which beat so hard and fast, I could hear it clearly.

Tenderly, I moved him free of his clothing and wrapped my hand around him, feeling him squirm and reveling in the power I had over him in that moment. But I wanted more. I wanted all of him, to feel his power in my hands, to hear him groan and call out my name. I lowered my head and swirled my tongue around the very tip of him. He jumped as he sucked a sharp breath in through his teeth, followed by a long, guttural moan. That’s all I needed to prod me forward and take him completely into my mouth. I licked and sucked as I squeezed then stroked along his full length. The heat of him burned my fingers and scorched my lips.

Now fully aroused, he filled my mouth and touched the back of my throat. I had him exactly where I wanted and moved at a leisurely pace at first, but as I felt the tension in his body build higher and tighter, I increased my tempo until the momentum had him rocking wildly against me. I felt he was close, ready and on the precipice, and I was preparing to sweep him over the edge, when suddenly, he bucked me away and grabbed for his discarded t-shirt, placing it over himself while he screamed my name in climax.

I pulled back, but couldn’t help but watch as his orgasm coursed through him in rippling waves. He covered his eyes with one hand while his body shook and his breathing hitched then came in shallow pants and gasps. It took him a good two minutes before his muscles relaxed and his body fairly melted into the shaggy rug beneath him. He blew long, slow breaths until he finally opened his eyes and looked up at me.

I smiled broadly and collapsed down onto the floor next to him, snuggling up under his arm and laying my head on his chest. His heart beat hard and strong beneath my ear. I sighed loudly, a combination of desire and frustration, then tipped my face up to his.

“I want to make love to you,” I whispered. “So badly, Ty, you have no idea.”

He smiled and ran a fingertip along my bottom lip. “Oh, I believe I do,” he replied, though a subtle anguish crept back into his eyes. “But hardly practical, considering…” he said and left unfinished. He gave me a reproachful look then rolled over and scooped me in close, his mouth at my ear. “I saw it all, Hannah, you in labor, screaming in pain and surrounded by strangers. Greg showed me the video.” He choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, love, that I couldn’t help you through it like we planned. This is all my fault,” he finished then broke down, weeping gently into the crook of my neck as he squeezed me tight.

I tried to pull back so I could look into his eyes, but he held firm.

“Ty, look at me,” I ordered with a tap to his bare shoulder.

He pulled back but kept his gaze anywhere other than my face. “Please, tell me she’s okay,” he murmured then shut his eyes against me. “Tell me Nicole is safe, that she’s being fed, that she’s not alone.”

With a finger beneath his chin, I tipped his face up to mine. There was so much pain in his eyes, so much regret, so much sorrow. He was that man again, just as he was five years ago, the one who tried so hard to carry the responsibility of all the wrongs done to those closest to him. He was collapsing under its weight once more, another load too heavy to bear alone.

I ran my fingers along his brow. “Oh, Ty, yes, she’s safe, she’s fed, and when I can’t be with her, she’s with Dariya.”

“Dariya?”

“If you saw me in labor, then you must have seen Danny right there next to me. He helped me through it, Ty. I couldn’t have done it without him. And his sister, Dariya, she’s been taking care of Nicole. They understand what it’s like to be under Greg’s thumb. I trust them both, as much as I can trust anyone at this point.”

He eased the tiniest of smiles, bitter though it was. “I’m glad.”

“What about Conner?” I asked. “Have you seen him? Does Greg have my son, too?”

“No, not anymore. He did, but, for whatever reason, he let him go. I realize Greg must have an angle for doing that, but I don’t know what that is yet. Conner’s probably with the FBI by now, divulging what happened earlier. I don’t know, maybe that’s what Greg wants.”

“What do you think he’ll tell them? What exactly happened earlier?” I asked, more than a bit worried by whatever answer I might receive, but that worry turned to fear when Ty’s face crumpled into inexplicable grief and anguish.

He raised one hand to his face and jabbed his fingers deep into his eyes, but that emotion, extreme as it was, was short-lived. In fact, in a single heartbeat, Ty seemed to shut down completely. His face went blank. He pulled away, stood, and zipped his pants back up.

“It won’t be long, Hannah. This is almost over. I’m doing what’s necessary to see you all free—for good.” He snatched a jacket laying across the sofa and eased into, sliding the zipper up halfway then turning away from me with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I pulled to my feet and laid my hand on Tyler’s shoulder. He reacted like I’d burned him, shrugging away and rubbing his hand over the spot where I’d touched him.

“Don’t,” he pleaded in a whisper.

“Don’t?” I echoed and shook my head in confusion. “Don’t what? Touch you?”

“Yes,” he answered.

I walked around to face him. “Why the hell not?”

He pretended to examine his palm. “Because I…I just…I just prefer it that way now.”

“Now? Like, all of a sudden? Ty, what’s gotten into you?” I grabbed his wrist, determined to hold on.

He knew me well enough not to fight me, but that didn’t mean he was giving in.

“Hannah, look,” he said and paused, still refusing to look at me. “I…I can’t go back. It’s too late. I’ve done too much already. I’ll never be that man I used to be. I’ll never be that man you
want
me to be, the man you fell in love with—”

“Ty—”

“No!” he railed and looked me in the eye, but there was a barrier between us now, invisible, but impenetrable. “He’s dead, Hannah, gone. I will never be that man again, ever. I have other goals now, other responsibilities. I can’t go back. It’s too late.”

Drawing away, I stared at him, stunned, confused. “Ty, what…what does that mean…it’s too late? What have you done?”

The more I prodded, the thicker and harder that barrier between us became. It was like a mask had suddenly been pulled down over his face. He looked cold, distant, completely detached, not the man I knew at all. He stared back, and, for the first time since the day we met, those blue eyes scared me. They were hard, frigid, bitter.

With no emotion in his voice whatsoever, he said, “I killed again, Hannah, in cold blood. I killed the man who took Nick’s life. I chose to do that.”

I shook my head. “No, Ty…I know you—”

“No, you don’t, Hannah, not any more.”

“
Yes
, I
do
, and I know what that bastard, Greg, is capable of to make others bend to his will.” I took a step closer. “What did he do, Ty?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Conner was there. Did Greg use him to get to you?”

“No—”

“Or was it Nicole?”

“No, Hannah, please, just—”

“You said you saw me in labor…”

“Hannah, please—”

“That’s it, isn’t it?”

He squeezed his head between his hands. “No...”

“He used Nicole. He used your own daughter against you.”

His ran his hand through his hair. “Stop—”

“Did he threaten her, scare you into killing that man?”

Ty shook his head.

“…a man who deserved it, by the way…”

“Fuck…”

“…by using your newborn daughter, that sonofabitch.”

“No, Hannah. He used
you
! I saw what he did, how he tortured you, poured water down your throat. He wasn’t going to kill you, I knew that, but he wasn’t going to stop either. So I did. I put a bullet in that bastard’s head to stop Greg from waterboarding you. God help me, Hannah, I
chose
to kill that man.”

Ty fought hard to keep the tears from washing down his face, but they were there, in his eyes, in his voice, in his posture. That broken man was shining through again, and I was glad to see him. As difficult as he was to look at, I preferred the broken Ty to the isolated one, that hard, disconnected, untouchable stranger. But as Tyler gazed into my eyes, searching for something, anything, forgiveness perhaps, or mercy, what he also saw was pity, and that’s when the mask fell back into place, his eyes once again cold and hooded. In that moment, my heart broke for him. Shattered. Because, as the pieces fell into place, I realized he’d killed for the wrong reason, for nothing, certainly not what he’d been led to believe.