“American?”
Rattlesnake narrows his eyes. “Why do you ask?”
My skin prickles. If he was American, seems like Rattlesnake would’ve just said. Poval is Ukrainian. The slave owner could’ve been one of his men who stayed behind after Adrian torched the sofa factory and Poval disappeared.
“Just curious. I appreciate the connection. And the blow.” I hold up the bag of cocaine.
He gives me that weird unblinking stare again and then nods. “Do svidaniya.” He lifts his hand in a wave as he walks away.
A chill runs through me. Maybe he knows Russian because that’s where the sex slaves are from. Maybe this really is a link to Leon Poval and his flesh trade of Russian girls like Nadia, Adrian’s sister.
I don’t know if Ravil will tell Adrian what we’ve found out or not. He has the tendency to fly solo, and while he’s learned a lot from us in the year he’s been with the cell, he’s still young. He got himself caught when he torched Leon’s sofa factory after finding and rescuing his sister from its depths.
Oleg waits until Rattlesnake has walked away before he makes a ferocious-sounding growl in his throat.
“Agreed,” I mutter. “I think we may have found the trail to Poval. Hold off telling Adrian until the pakhan gives us instruction.”
Oleg frowns and signs, I don’t talk.
“Well, you talk more than you used to.” I slap him on the back.
Nikolai
A day later, Oleg, Adrian and I catch Zane outside one of his classes. Yes, I have his complete class schedule because obtaining it was easy work for Dima.
The minute he sees us he starts to run in the opposite direction.
“Don’t make me chase you.” I don’t even raise my voice.
Zane slows and then stops, keeping his back to me. We flank him, Oleg dropping a meaty hand on his shoulder.
“Take him to the parking garage,” I say in Russian to keep Zane in the dark.
Oleg maneuvers Zane to a corner in the high-rise concrete garage where he turns him around to face me.
“You know why I’m here?”
Zane pales, his skin turning green around his mouth like he’s going to puke. His shoulders sag. “The ring.”
“Da. The ring.”
“I’ll get you another payment.”
“I know you will,” I say smoothly. “This visit isn’t about what you owe.” I punch him in the nose, hearing the snap as it folds to the side.
He doubles over, clutching it.
“That was for sending your sister to my place.” Blood starts to pour onto his shoes. Oleg lifts his torso with a single hand on his shoulder. I punch him in the gut. “And that was for making her cry.”
He staggers backward into Oleg. I nod to Oleg to straighten him again, and when he does, I step up close. He flinches when I reach for his face and place my thumbs on either side of his nose. With another snap, I straighten the break.
“Do better, mudak. Your sister doesn’t deserve to carry your shit.”
Zane splutters and opens his mouth like he’s going to backtalk, but when I raise my brows, he closes it again.
I tip my head, which Oleg correctly deciphers to mean, release him.
“See you Friday,” I say as we walk away.
I think I hear Zane mutter fuck you as we leave, but I let it slide.
7
Chelle
Janette’s been in the conference room with the potential clients—the skateboarding stars from the group Skate 32—all afternoon.
I thought they’d be younger for some reason. I guess because she described them that way. But they’re more of that Peter Pan, won’t grow up, type. Like pushing thirty but still dressing and acting like they’re sixteen. I saw no signs of professionalism or business-sense from them when I brought in drinks and snacks.
But I guess that’s why they need us.
It’s close to five when Janette shows up at my desk. She appears pale and sweaty, which makes me stand to meet her, worried something has gone wrong.
“Oh my God, I think I ate something bad for lunch,” she says. “I just puked my guts out in the bathroom—sorry for the TMI. Listen, I need to get home. I can’t take these guys out tonight.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll understand,” I say quickly. “I will let them know you had to cancel.”
“No,” she says sharply, clearly annoyed with me. “We need to get them signed. You have to take them out. Show them the town—use that list you made me.”
“Oh, uh…yeah. Okay.”
“But bring a date. These guys seem a little randy. I don’t feel comfortable sending you out with them alone.”
A date? I look around the office wildly, but as usual, I’m the only one still here on a Friday night.
“Bring a guy. Say he’s your boyfriend. I mean, I don’t think they’re dangerous, but I don’t want things to be awkward for you, okay?”
Yipes. Maybe Zane will go with me. Or would they know he’s not a boyfriend because we look too much alike?