Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2)
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Chapter 16

 

 

Ekaterinburg

 

The guys were sleeping in shifts, leaving me to snooze on the couch while one of them babysat me all night. Vladimir set up a cozy bed for me complete with toasty quilted blankets, a feather pillow, and an old, patchwork teddy bear that looked like it had been pieced together from scraps of fabric and burlap back in Soviet times. He said Boris’s wife, Anya, had made it for him when he was a boy. She sounded sweet. I wondered if I would ever get to meet her.

Boris was taking the first shift and settled in next to me in an oversized chair. He turned on a reading lamp, slid on his glasses, and opened a book.

“Want me to stay?” Vladimir’s eyes were droopy and he had been fighting off yawns in rapid-fire succession since dinner.

“No, I’m exhausted. I’ll be asleep in two minutes. Get some rest.”

“Are you sure?”

I let out a long, exaggerated yawn. “Positive.
Dobroy nochi
. Good night.”

He kissed my cheek and went to the bedroom.

The second Vladimir was out of sight, Boris glared at me like he was about to gut me. “Pleasant dreams,
lapsha
.”

I turned on my side and rested my head in my hand. “There’s a zero percent chance I will fall asleep with you staring at me like
that
.” I motioned to his face.

“Like what?”

“Like you are contemplating all the ways you could possibly kill me. Please tell me what’s going on? Is Vladimir doing something reckless? I have a bad feeling he’s not going to be okay.”

He closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “Did Vladimir ever tell you what happened to his family?”

“Not exactly.” Back in America, Vladimir had “introduced” me to his family. A dozen or so pictures of his parents and brothers lined the walls of his bedroom, and although he didn’t say what had happened to them, he did acknowledge that all of his blood relatives had died. It was a shocking admission, but he didn’t offer up an explanation, and I didn’t push for one.

“When the Soviet Union collapsed, our hometown turned into a war zone. Control of the city was up for grabs, and the criminal underworld all wanted a piece of the action. Vladimir’s papa, Victor, was the
pakhan
of the Ivanov
Bratva
, and Maksim’s uncle, Arcady, led the Ovechkins. The struggle for power resulted in a bloody battle between our families that lasted for many years.”

“So, the Ovechkins eliminated Victor to take control of the city?”

“Worse.”

“What could be
worse
than death?”

Boris took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. “For years, the streets of our neighborhood smelled of gunpowder. We had hundreds of casualties on both sides. Men I’d known my entire life, gunned down in the street with so many bullet holes in their bodies, their remains were reduced to nothing but hunks of flesh.”

I sat up and clutched my bear.

“I know you think I’m a killer, Carter, but you’re wrong. My job is to
protect
, by all means necessary. I did my job. I stationed my men at Victor’s side around the clock. I was meticulous about every detail of his safety. I never left him unguarded, never let anyone get close—with one small exception. The night Vladimir’s family was murdered, I left my post.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “Anya went into labor prematurely with Katia, and Victor insisted I go to her. I argued to stay with him, but he gave me an order. As I held my newborn daughter in my arms, one of my men came to me and informed me we had an emergency. By the time I arrived at Victor’s house, I looked into the window and saw Vladimir’s brothers, Mischa and Alexei, dead on the ground.”

Boris paused and shook his head. “Beautiful Irina was sprawled out on the floor, naked, every inch of her body battered. Those animals tortured and raped her while her husband watched, and when her body was no use to them anymore, they slit her throat and put a bullet between her eyes.”

“Oh, God. Boris, please don’t—”

“Victor was tied to a chair, beaten within an inch of his life. Beside him, Arcady Ovechkin pressed a gun to his temple, and a soldier aimed his weapon at Victor’s last remaining son—Vladimir. I had no time to assemble my men. It was up to me to save the
pakhan
. I kicked down the door with guns drawn, one pointed at each murderer. It is not possible to aim at two targets at once, so I put the red dot between Arcady’s eyes. My job was to protect the
pakhan
at any cost, but Victor gave me an order I was unable to deny.”

Boris clenched his jaw, unnerved by the memory. “Victor was not only my boss, he was my best friend.”

“What was the order?”

“I shifted my focus to the man who had his gun on Vladimir. There was no time to think, only react. I had a clear lock on the soldier, but I only had Arcady in my peripheral vision. I fired both guns simultaneously. I put a bullet in the soldier’s brain and shoved Vladimir to the ground as Arcady and I exchanged gunfire. The Ovechkin coward ducked behind the
pakhan
, using him as a human shield. I fired my assault weapon until Arcady’s body dropped to the ground.”

“Wait. You took out the soldier
and
Arcady? Victor lived through the attack?”

“No. In order to take out the man who murdered Vladimir’s family, I had to go
through
Victor to get to the enemy.”

“Wait. Through, as in—
you
killed Victor?”

“I had no choice. The
pakhan
gave me an order.” In the dim lamplight, Boris’s eyes glistened. I had always felt an underlying tension between Boris and Vladimir, but I never pieced together that it had had anything to do with his family’s murder. Boris harbored a deep sense of guilt, and Vladimir held on to resentment.

“It wasn’t your fault, Boris. You did the right thing to save Vladimir. He was an innocent little boy.” All this time I had thought Boris enjoyed hurting me when I messed up, but this new revelation made sense and spoke volumes about his personality. He would do anything to protect Vladimir. He had to murder his best friend so Vladimir could live. No wonder he was so crazy overprotective of him.

“Vladimir fears you will suffer the same fate as his family. It nearly killed him when he learned the Ovechkins put a bounty on you to lure him in. He cares more about your life than his own. Our disagreement today was over
you
. In the morning, I am to arrange his surrender to Maksim Ovechkin. Vladimir would rather die a torturous death than allow any harm coming to his precious angel.”

“That’s suicide. You can’t possibly be on board with this.”

“He didn’t ask my advice. He gave me an
order
.”

“No!” I hopped off the couch, flung open the bedroom door, and pounced on Vladimir as he lay in bed. “Call it off. Now.” I grabbed his wrists and pinned him down. I dug my fingernails into his skin, but he didn’t give a shit about the pain—or me. “You thought you could slink away from me and end all of your troubles? Man up, Vladimir. Only losers give up. I thought you were the
pakhan
.”

“The
pakhan
is dead.”

I let out a bitter chuckle. “You’re right. The
pakhan
would never screw over his family. The
pakhan
would never chicken out and surrender to his enemies. The
pakhan
would fight for his life and shred anyone who stood in his way.”

“I have no interest in leading the
Bratva
down another bloody path. My family is in danger because of my weakness, and I will give my life willingly to protect the people I love.”

I yanked Vladimir out of bed, undeterred by his self-righteous bravado. “I’m dragging you to Boris right now, and you’re taking back the order.” Vladimir stood firm, not allowing me to force him out of the bedroom. “Vladimir!” I pulled and tugged, but I wasn’t strong enough to move him. I plopped down on the floor in defeat.

“I don’t want you to die. I understand Maksim is a powerful force, but he’s committed the number one sin of competition—he underestimated his opponent. I don’t care how big and bad he thinks he is, there is no way he can outplay you.”

“I’m sorry, Carter. Believe me, I wish there was another way out.” Vladimir’s expression turned serious. “I’ve arranged for my mansion in Cincinnati to be gifted to you along with the cars, the fine art, furs, jewelry—all my possessions in America are yours now.”

“Stop it.”

“Furthermore, I have set up a financial portfolio in your name so you never need to work a day in your life. You will never want for anything again as long as you live.”

“I don’t want for anything now.”

“It’s already been taken care of, Carter. It’s the least I can do for all the agony I’ve put you through.” Vladimir gave me a weak smile. “I promise, you will make it back home to your family and resume the life you deserve.”

“I’m screwed up enough as it is, Vladimir. I’ll never forgive myself if you don’t make it out of this alive. If you go through with this bullshit plan, I’m going with you. Maksim might as well put me out of my misery and blast a bullet in my brain too.”

“No one is getting a bullet blasted in their brain under my watch.” Boris shook his head, dumbfounded by our mind-numbing, suicidal argument.

“Now, there’s a solid plan—one where nobody dies. I like your thinking, big guy.”

“You think I want to die, Carter? There’s no other way.”

“Wrong. I’m done with all the lies, the decisions being made behind my back, and all the speaking in Russian when you don’t want me to know what you’re saying.” I pointed a stern finger at both of them. “Starting now, we’re putting all the bullshit on the table. Like it or not, I’m a part of this. Your decisions affect me. Stop treating me like I’m an inferior species and let me help with a solution.”

“You’re right, Carter,” Boris said. “Maybe we should dethrone Vladimir ourselves and make you the
pakhan
.”

Vladimir scoffed. “You want to wear my crown? Done. Let’s hear your plan,
boss.

Even though I had enough anger-fueled adrenaline pumping through my veins to catapult me back to Ohio, Vladimir calling me “boss” was the hottest thing he’d ever said to me. He was domineering by nature, and I loved that about him. But he did overdo it sometimes, making me feel like I was a rung beneath him when we didn’t agree—or maybe that was my shitty self-esteem talking. Regardless, it was time to earn his respect and prove I was intellectually worthy to put together a plan stellar enough to take down a rival
Bratva
.

I had been an athlete my entire life. I lived for competition. There was no better high than training hard, pushing my body to the limit, and delivering every ounce of energy and determination I had to defeat my opponents. It wasn’t the high of winning that made me competitive, it was my fear of losing that earned me the reputation for having a win-or-die-trying attitude.

“Listen up, guys. In order to beat Maksim, the first thing we need to do is switch over to offense. Hiding out here in the boonies is a defensive move, a losing game plan.”

“Correct, but before we write the playbook, we must agree on the outcome. There’s more to consider than walking away with our lives.” Boris may have despised every single thing about me, except for one. He admired my competitive spirit. “Let’s start there. We can all agree that living through this is the top priority, right?”

Vladimir and I nodded. At least we got him to turn the corner on his self-righteous suicide mission.

“What happens next?” Boris asked.

“There are only two ways to end the threat,” Vladimir said. “We take Maksim out, or he calls off the hit.”

“Both risky, both with different outcomes. You and I will discuss our business privately, but let’s make one thing perfectly clear. When we achieve our objective, Carter goes home. You must not be selfish, son. She doesn’t belong in our world. Give me your word that your intention to protect her from this life hasn’t changed.”

Vladimir paused, as if struggling to answer in the affirmative. Saving my life meant losing me forever. Of course, I wanted to go home. It was the best thing for all of us, but the thought of never seeing Vladimir again wrecked me. Selfishly, I wanted Vladimir to fight for me. To tell Boris he would defeat Maksim and make it possible for our relationship to work, that no one would ever keep us apart, and anyone who tried was a dead man.

“The objective will always be to protect Carter. Period. Whether I live through this or not, do whatever it takes to get her back to America.”

“Carter? I need your assurance too.” Boris asked. “Give me your word you’re not going to twist him up and sabotage our plan.”

BOOK: Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2)
6.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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