Until the End (22 page)

Gritting his teeth, Jetmir gestured to Lauren. “Perhaps more incentive is needed.”

“Give me a reason.”

They stared off for several moments until the corner of Jetmir’s mouth tipped up. “We will speak soon.”

Jetmir and the others stood, leaving without a single glance back. It was dead silent in the café, but Lauren couldn’t focus much on that, the newcomer was grabbing her arm, pulling her up.

“We need to go.”

He grabbed her backpack from the seat, tossing her books inside then zipping it closed. He tossed a twenty dollar bill onto the table, hauling Lauren out with little care to the onlookers.

“Not to be rude, but I don’t know you either.”

“Luka.”

It was the only answer she got from him before he was pushing her into an idling car, climbing in behind her. Luka gave a command in Russian as they pulled off.

“Uh…do you work for Mishca? Or are you…” She didn’t know whether she was even allowed to ask, but she couldn’t say whether he would even answer.

“We are family, yes.”

“Oh, okay.” She guessed that answered the question.

It was quiet in the car and Lauren was at a loss as to what to say to him. Luka didn’t make it any easier for her. While Mishca’s silence was comforting, Luka’s was unnerving. From the door of the car, he pulled out a pear, then a pocket knife.

He cut a piece, and as he lifted it to his mouth, he hesitated, extending it to Lauren. Surprised, she still shook her head no.

“You might want to call the Boss.”

Not taking her eyes off him, Lauren dialed Mishca. He answered after the second ring.

“
Moya globushka
, what can I do for you?”

“I’m with Luka. He’s—”

“What happened?”

Even she felt uneasy by the anger she heard in his voice. “Well I don’t know where he came from, but he showed up after those men talked to me—Jetmir or something. Mish, what the hell is going on?”

“Give Luka the phone.”

She handed it over, wishing she could understand what they were saying as Luka talked unhurriedly.

“Yea, yea, keep my hands to myself. Got it, Boss.”

Lauren could hear Mishca’s angry yelling as Luka passed her the phone back. “What’s—”

Mishca cut her off again. “He’ll bring you to me. We can talk then.”

Giving up for the moment, Lauren conceded. “Fine.”

Fifteen minutes after she’d hung up with him, fifteen minutes of traveling with Luka, in that time, he hadn’t moved an inch, nor had he said a word to her.

“I’ve heard plenty about you,” Luka said quietly as he studied her like a scientist might a test subject. “Our Captain doesn’t trust easily yet here you are.”

How was she supposed to respond to that? “I haven’t heard much about you.”

Luka shrugged like he expected that. “I’m his forbidden secret. Only time my phone rings is when he wants me to do something dirty.”

Both of Lauren’s brows shot up, but she was more amused than anything else. “Good to know.”

As the familiar sight of Mishca’s apartment building came into view, Lauren sighed in relief, ready to see him and get an explanation for what was going on. Yet, they kept on.

Eyeing her, Luka said, “Boss wants you at the safe house.”

“Safe house? Is that really necessary?”

Luka flexed his fingers, tossing the knife he held end over end. “Not my place to answer.”

Since he was being so talkative, she thought she might ask about the confrontation back there. “Who were those men back there?”

“Albanian businessmen,” he answered smoothly…and a little too quickly.

“Businessman like you?”

He shrugged.

“And this has something to do with Mishca or all of you?” She questioned trying to understand. “Is that why he came to me?”

Lauren knew she should have been more afraid, especially since it had been so easy for him to find her, and with that knowledge came the thought that anyone in the complex network of underworld crime could, in fact, do that same, but she didn’t feel fear, not for herself at least.

“You’ll know soon enough.”

They took the bridge out of the city, and towering skyscrapers faded into beautiful scenery, the colors of Fall showing proudly in the leaves that clung to the trees and littered the ground. It was only a short while later that they reached their destination.

With just a glance, everything Lauren thought she understood about the
Bratva
changed.

In the city, besides Vlad—and now Luka—Lauren very rarely saw much security around Mishca, but outside this property, at least a dozen or more men stood around the wrought iron gate, all holding assault rifles.

They stopped at the call box first, allowing the men to check the perimeter of the car before allowing them entry. Lauren peered behind her, watching the gate close behind them. It didn’t feel much like a home, but more like a prison.

The house itself was a smaller version of the manor with what looked like a small army manning it. The car had barely rolled to a stop when Luka was opening the door, scrambling out, reaching back to offer her a hand.

As she passed, a few of the guards nodded in her direction, the rest just stared. She didn’t have time to take in her surroundings as she was rushed inside and down a flight of stairs to a basement that was just as big as Lauren’s apartment with Amber.

Mishca’s back was to her as she entered, barking instructions in Russian to the men standing in front of him. Judging from the fury she heard in his voice, he wasn’t happy.

“Mish...”

He cut off abruptly, turning to face her, the relief in his eyes making her think that whatever was going on with those Albanians was far more serious than she thought. She hurried over to him, enjoying the feel of his arms as they closed around her, his lips to her temple.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he drew back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just tell me what’s going on.”

“Later. I can’t explain it all now. Until I get this straightened out, you’re going to stay here. If you need anything, Vlad will be here.”

“Wait, Mish, I can’t
stay
here. I have school...and work.”

He waved that way. “I’ll handle it.”

“No, you can’t just tell me what to do. This isn’t--”

“Lauren!”

She jumped, her eyes grown wide as she faced his anger.

“This isn’t negotiable. You do as I say without argument,
ponyal
? I’ll be back later. Luka will show you to your room.”

Snapping his fingers, he brushed by her, followed quickly by the others in the room, leaving Lauren standing dumbfounded with Luka. Looking uncomfortable, Luka bounced on the heels of his feet, whistling a jaunty tune.

Mishca was in trouble.

He’d known that before leaving Lauren hours earlier, but he knew for sure when he entered the bedroom. She didn’t look away from the book she was reading when he entered, but he saw her fingers tighten slightly around the cover. He could blame it on the stress, between the constant back and forth with the Albanians and trying to get straight answers out of Naomi, but there was no excuse for the way he treated Lauren earlier.

After issuing a not so subtle threat to Jetmir after his little display with Lauren, Mishca had thought of an apology that would help smooth things over with her, but looking at her now, when she refused to even acknowledge his presence, he knew that it wouldn’t be sufficient enough.

He didn’t think he had ever seen her this angry with him, not like this, and he almost wished she would yell at him, hit him, anything but ignore him.

Sighing, he flipped the lock on the door, dropping his bag in front of it as he crossed the room, climbing onto the bed beside her. Still, she wouldn’t look at him.

He made an attempt to reach for her, but she pulled away, turning onto her side as she brought the book closer to her face.

“Lauren, I’m sorry.”

She smirked, the only acknowledgement she gave to his words.

“I overreacted earlier. I—well, I can’t say it won’t happen again, then I would be lying to you.”

“And we all know the great
Bratva
Captain
never
lies,” she muttered dryly.

“Never intentionally.”

“You know, I didn’t even know there was an Albanian Mob.”

Now he was the one sighing, reclining back against the mountain of pillows on the bed. “Who told you?”

She closed her book, tossing it to the foot of the bed. “No one
told
me. I guessed. Luka said they were Albanian businessmen, seemed reasonable enough.”

He laid back against the pillows, watching her out the corner of his eye. “Yes, the men you met were Albanian Mob.”

“And that penis measuring thing…that was aimed at you.”

He chuckled, coughing when she glared at him.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say coc—” She punched him in the arm, making him laugh harder.

“I’m being serious, Mish.”

“And I’m taking this seriously.”

Rolling her eyes, she threw her pen at his head, missing him by several inches. “And what the hell was that earlier?”

That sobered him up as he reached for his hand. She noticed that when he was trying to express something to her, he often touched her hands, bringing them to his lips.

“I apologize, sometimes I speak before thinking. Can you forgive me?”

When he looked at her with big blue eyes, she instantly forgave him, but he didn’t have to know that. Sighing dramatically she picked back up her book.

“You never make it easy for me, do you?”

She yelped as he rolled over, tugging at her leg as he rolled back into his original position, with her now on top of him. He kept his hands on her thighs as she used his chest to push up, his thumbs caressing the skin there.

It was hard to stay mad at him, especially when he was groveling, but that didn’t mean she would accept half-truths from him.

“You can’t just expect me to do what you say without any kind of explanation.”

“I can’t keep you safe if you’re not with me.”

“You’re not listening, Mish. What do you need to keep me safe from? I was pretty sure you weren’t the only mob in town, but that didn’t seem to make a difference. What is it about them that has you worried?”

His gaze had drifted downward, his mind already sidetracked by the fact that she wasn’t wearing any pants.

“
Mish
?” She said using her finger to lift his head. Laughing softly when he resisted. “Are you going to tell me?”

He sighed in defeat laying back, staring at her for several heartbeats before nodding. “There’s a diamond that they want, runs in their family, I believe. They think Naomi stole it.”

“And did she?”

Though he shook his head no, Lauren could see he wasn’t too convinced of that fact.

“They were the ones that shot up your club.”

It wasn’t a question.

It explained why he had been acting so weird afterward, refusing to talk about it.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Either hand over Naomi or threaten to kill her if she doesn’t give me the diamond.”

“Bit morbid, but I’ll let you handle that.”

“So will you stay here for me? Please?”

“Fine. One week, Mish. I’ll stay for one week.”

He drew her down for a kiss, a silent thank you for complying to his wishes. She needed to tell him that it wouldn’t always be that easy getting her cooperation, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

He smiled against her lips. “No one is on this floor,” He whispered, kissing the curve of her throat.

Laughing, Lauren leaned her head back, giving him better access. “Like no one was on the floor at the manor?”

He laughed with her, but their laughter soon stopped when they lost themselves in each other.

  Mishca was gone the next morning, but the lack of his presence beside her wasn’t what woke her.

It was the sound of a girl’s furious screaming.

Slipping out of bed, Lauren hurried over to the door, cracking it open so she could see out into the hallway. What she saw there had her swinging the door open, her mouth agape in shock.

Luka was marching down the hall, a girl tossed over his shoulder, his arm banded around her thighs to keep her from falling as she flailed.