Gavriil (Stepanov Mafia)

Matthew was crying now, his thin shoulders shaking with sobs as he squeezed his eyes shut and twisted away from the gun. He apologized between loud, gasping breaths. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I barely even know Devin.”

“That’s even worse.” I snarled. “You let yourself be manipulated by a stranger. Perhaps, I could forgive you if you had better information about where Sam is, but your information is useless.”

His mouth opened in a silent sob, and I smelled something sharply acidic. I looked down to see a dark stain washing across the front of his jeans. “I wish I knew more. I swear. I’ll call Devin. I’ll find out where she is, and I’ll tell you. I can work for you now. A double agent. God, please don’t kill me. Please.”

I pulled my gun away and clicked it back into place. Matthew blinked twice before he dared to look up at me.

“You’re lucky,” I said, voice low, eyes narrowed at the sad sack of human that was Matthew Willard. “So unbelievably lucky because I have decided to have mercy on you.”

Matthew sunk into his own bones, as if he was a puppet whose strings had just been snapped.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

“This has nothing to do with you or anything you’ve done, so I wouldn’t try your luck again. Next time you decide to play games in my world, you better know the fucking rules.”

Not quite finished with the man, I kicked out at him, the toe of my boot connecting with his ribs. I heard a crunch, then a hiss slipped between his lips. I didn’t stay to see whether he was hurt or not. I turned around and left, leaving the front door wide open behind me.

Matthew had gotten lucky. Though the information he’d given me had been slim, it had been enough for me to figure out who he was talking about. There was only one person I knew with a pilot’s license and a tattoo of a snake around his neck. Fyodor was a muscle who sold his loyalty to the highest bidder, and apparently, that had been Devin.

Or, if Matthew’s information had been correct, then Fyodor had somehow found himself in Devin’s debt and been forced into this truly idiotic stunt. Though, I couldn’t imagine Fyodor, or anyone else for that matter, agreeing to do something as stupid as going up against me on Devin’s orders.

But I guess I was about to find out. I’d used Fyodor’s services in the past, and we met at his office to make arrangements. It was a dingy building just off the highway. Most of the space was devoted to storage and boxing gear – punching bags covered in duct tape hanging from the rafters – but his office was in a small, sterile room off to the side. If Fyodor was truly involved, my guess was that they’d taken Sam to the warehouse.

I texted Yuri and Ivan the address of the building with one hand while swerving around after work traffic with the other. A moment later, Yuri texted back, letting me know they’d be there and telling me to wait for back up.

I knew I’d beat them there by an easy ten minutes, and I also knew I wouldn’t wait a single second. If Samantha was inside the building, I wasn’t going to sit outside and wait for anyone. I was going to rip the door off the hinges and blow away anyone in my path until I found her.

I’d called her my girlfriend back at Matthew’s house. I was too emotional at the time to really think about it, but now that I had a moment to myself, I couldn’t turn my mind off. Had it just been a slip? I mean, our situation was hard to explain. What was I supposed to call her, the woman who offered to sleep with me to pay off her brother’s debts? That was not only bizarre but also a bit of a mouthful. Calling her my girlfriend had just been a way to simplify things since I was so crunched on time. I felt sure that was it.

I parked my car in front of the building, making no attempt to hide my presence, pulled my gun out, and crunched across the gravel path. If anyone inside didn’t know I was coming after them, they’d know it in a few seconds. Matthew Willard had used up the last of my forgiveness. I didn’t plan to take any prisoners.

I saw tire tracks in the gravel, and I wondered if any of them belonged to the car that had brought Sam here. I’d expected to feel something when I pulled up, a pull towards the building that would let me know she was inside, but I didn’t feel anything. It was stupid to think I would, anyway. Sam and I weren’t that connected. But I still found myself a bit disappointed.