The Cleaner (Chicago Bratva 7)

Oleg’s American girlfriend, Story, also lives there.

I grit my teeth. I should be thrilled any time Nadia’s willing to leave the apartment. It took me months and months just to get her out of the building. But I fear she’s more than a little fixated on Story’s younger brother, Flynn who plays in the band. And Flynn is a fucking player.

He’s the last guy my sister needs to throw herself at. Although, that might be the saving grace. Flynn is too busy with all the fangirls throwing their panties on stage at him to pay any attention to my socially phobic, extremely damaged sister.

“Is Sasha going?” I don’t want her there if there’s not another woman.

“Yes. Sasha and Maxim, Oleg, and Maykl.”

“Good. If you need to leave early, you tell Maykl, and he’ll take you back.” Maykl promised me he’d look after Nadia while I was gone. He’s the bratva brother I knew from Russia. Newer to our cell, like me. Honorable. I trust him with her. Also, I told him I’d cut off his balls if he touched her, so there's that.

“I…I think I will stay.”

Fuck. I fear she’s really obsessed with Flynn. Should I say something? I should. I need to warn her that he’s a heartbreaker.

No, I can’t bring myself to. It’s the first interest she’s shown in anything since Poval kidnapped her from home almost two years ago. And if this gets her out of the building, it has to be a win. I just fear a heartbreak would be the end of her.

Literally.

She was suicidal for a long time.

“You’re going to work today?”

“Of course,” she chides me. “You think I can’t make it to work because you’re gone?”

“I’m just making sure.”

Ravil, in all his benevolence, magically found work for my sister when I finally found her and brought her back with me. Just like he took me in and showed me the ropes when I arrived in Chicago, following the trail that led me to the sofa factory, he found a place for Nadia.

Since she’s still learning English and is afraid to interact with people, he gave her a job cleaning the Kremlin. Never mind that he already has at least five other Russian immigrants on the payroll for the same job.

Now that she’s coming out of her depression, she does a little babysitting for him as well.

“You’ve showered?” Sometimes personal hygiene goes out the window when she’s in a funk.

“I will shower after work.”

Right. She wouldn’t go out to see the Storytellers without showering.

“Eaten breakfast?”

“I will. Adrian, I’m fine. What about you? What are you doing? When are you coming home?”

“I just have some business to take care of. I’ll be back in a couple weeks… if it all goes well.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Her voice is tight with strain.

“Don’t worry about me,” I tell her. I don’t intend to die at Poval’s hand. I know it’s a distinct possibility, but I plan on making it home alive. With justice served.

I sneak a look at Kat, who doesn’t deserve her role in my vengeance. She’s frantically working her wrists against the zip ties.

“Ravil wants you to call him. He said it’s important.”

“Yeah, I will. I have to go, Nadia. Call me tomorrow when you wake.”

“I will.”

I hesitate. “Have a good time tonight.”

“Spasibo,” she thanks me. “Do svidaniya.”

“Do svidaniya.” I say goodbye and hang up then walk to Kat’s side. “Hey,” I say sharply. “You’re only hurting yourself. You won’t get free. Stop trying.”

“Go fuck yourself, mudak.”

Asshole is the same in Ukrainian as it is in Russian.

I don't have a thing for hurting women. In fact, it's the opposite. Knowing what my sister suffered, the idea of hurting a woman makes me sick. But Kat looks so beautiful right now with her wrists tied over her head. Her lips are chapped which makes them red and pretty and very kissable.

I rub my forehead.

I shouldn't be getting emotionally involved with this girl. That should be the farthest thing from my mind right now. I should be channeling Ravil's cool business-like approach. Show nothing, give nothing. But instead I find the need to claim this girl. To comfort her. To show her who's boss in a sexier way than using zip ties on her poor wrists. The way she liked it last night.

Kateryna is a beautiful, sexy girl, and last night definitely tweaked me in a way I didn’t expect. I may have not thought I had a thing for the school girl outfit or playing dominant, but now I do. Now I definitely do. I will never forget what it felt like to make her come all over my fingers after spanking that pretty little ass red.

“They hurt,” she complains. "My arms hurt. My wrists hurt. I can't be in this position any longer!"

Da. She's right. I need to change things. I pull my pen knife out of my pocket and cut the zip tie around her wrists loose, catching her hands to keep her from hitting me.