Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“I know, brat. Thank you for joining me.” Simeon sucked in a breath. “Do you suspect Howard acted alone? Could she be … a Resnov Castle Girl? Nyet. Forget I mentioned that.”
“Ask Anastasiya.” I thought on it. Simeon’s wife grew up in one of our old castles. Anatoly had the little girls groomed. The repulsive old men sought girls trained with certain criteria and a specially tailored list of their own personal desires.
“I’ll ask the second Anastasiya returns from the greenhouse. It’s her place. It’ll be a while.”
Was this Howard a vengeful Castle Girl? Anastasiya had founded an organization for the children, discovered some of their families, and provided the rest with homes.
“Are my niece and nephew safe?” Simeon asked.
“Da.” Vassilievich? Zariah had said I protected my Natasha a lot more than him. When she said it, though, sounded more like coddling. Did I admit it? Nyet. Was it true? Eh.
“Come home, Vassili.”
“This is my home.” A growl infused into my voice, and a spring jolted from my tool and bounced onto the ground. The contraption crumpled in my hand. Great. I’d broken another.
Simeon laughed, deep and Russian. “Okay. Okay.”
I clicked the burner phone shut and stared toward the sun, gold slicing the fog.
Someone was watching me. That would be their last mistake.
33
LORENZO
July
She shouldn’t have spoken. The mistake of her life. Rain stood by the fake oak nightstand, lip bleeding, one eye swelling. She flinched as I caressed the blood from the crack at her bottom lip with a face towel. I murmured, “Sunglasses, some of that pink gloss you love. Good as new, Rain.”
Her mouth wobbled. “No … Enzo. I won’t put on sunglasses and pretend.”
I backed off to give her space in our new seedy hotel. We’d stayed at so many of them in the past couple of months. Traded one bedbug mattress for another. She picked up a pillow. I lifted a brow, eyes questioning her.
She didn’t have the guts to hit me, even if what feathers remaining in that ratty pillow were older than us.
Instead, Rain held it close to her chest and lay on her stomach in the crinkled sheets. “The mercs you work for don’t have enough assignments for us.”
“Won’t always be this way,” I muttered, settling at the small table by the window to stare out at Simi Valley. Wasn’t so bad by day here.
“Could get worse”—she faced the cockroach factory of a bathroom, her mouth muffled now—“if your mind is on Natasha and not our next gig.”
My neck nearly snapped as I turned toward her. “What did you say, Corporal Rainita Howard?”
Instead of bowing out of the conversation, Rain lay on her side toward me. Her decent eye narrowed. “You almost died, Lorenzo. On a crappy mission. The mercs’ instructions were simple: entry, retrieval, extraction. You nearly died. I. Saved. You.”
I clapped my hands. “Semper Fi, baby.”
Eyes squeezing shut, a tear trickled out, before she lay on her side, spine toward me. Then she threw me a glare over her shoulder. Women. So indecisive. “Enzo, Natasha still does Taco Tuesday. Why didn’t you grab her last Tuesday? Lachlan didn’t go. It’s no secret they’ve gotten reacquainted after all these months! She’s even posted photos of them online. So again, why didn’t you grab her last Tuesday?”
“Jamie attended Taco Tuesday,” I said. “His wife brought him.” The women usually went solo. Their closeness made extracting Natasha difficult in the past too.
“Jamie?” Something flickered behind Rain’s moist gaze. Relief.
“My fra. He came.” I couldn’t exfil her around him. Before that? I’d been distraught. She chose … him. Also had to hash out a new plan.
“Our friend. Stop with this fra business. Your Italian accent isn’t even authentic.” She laughed, clutching the pillow as if to protect herself. “So, you didn’t want to kill Jamie too?”
“I’d never hurt my fra.”
“You’re afraid to hit a man … but women? We’re fair game. So, you’ll go out tonight, flirt with Natasha. Torment—”
“I told you,” I hissed, dropping the accent and shoving the chair back. “I run this! Don’t ask quest—” I broke off. A phone rang. My new burner. I answered.
“Ferri, what the heck, man?” Jamie’s brogue was deeper than usual. “NCIS! I see why you keep texting me from new numbers.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “What did you tell them?”
“That I haven’t seen you. Don’t worry, I didn’t give them your numbers. You-you murdered two MPs? We’re worried, brother.”
“Don’t. It was self-defense. The commander has it wrong.”
“If you need help, my family can—”
“I can’t put you out, fra.”
“Jamie?” In an instant, Rain popped up from bed. A storm of desperation increased her voice volume. “Is that Jamie?”
My look shut her down.
“Howard, that you?” Jamie demanded, “Put the phone on speaker, Enzo.”
Damn. I complied.
“What’s this mess he’s in, Howard?” he asked.
“It all has to do with a girl.” She stared at me, wiping sweat beads from her brow.