Midnight Oath (Tasarov Bratva 1)

ADRIK

“You can’t go in there alone,” Stefan says, staring at the street view image of the motel on my computer screen. “It could be a trap.”

I slide my gun into the holster under my waistband. “That’s why I’m bringing a weapon.”

He snorts. “You and a gun against the entire Volandri mafia? That’ll go over well.”

“We don’t know if she’s—” I take another deep breath. I’ve needed to take a lot of them in the last hour. “Emery working for the Volandris is a theory.”

“Our best theory,” he insists. “You have to admit, it makes plenty of sense.”

Stefan has laid it all out several times. I hear what he’s saying, but I refuse to buy into it.

Emery isn’t that good of an actress. When we were on our honeymoon, and the days after? That wasn’t acting. No fucking way.

“The entire staff was whispering about the two of you fucking like bunnies all over the house,” Stefan says. When I shoot him a look, he holds up his hands. “No judgment. I’d take advantage of the married perks if I were you, too. But, I don’t know… maybe you lost sight of the mission a bit. Your dad got sick, which was a curveball. And you wouldn’t be the first man to be distracted by good pussy. Believe me.”

“I didn’t get distracted,” I snap. “I trusted my instincts. She seemed genuine. When we left for our honeymoon, I had my doubts. But she earned my trust.”

“Your instincts are usually rock-solid.”

“And we have no reason to believe they aren’t still,” I say sharply.

Stefan nods, obviously not convinced. “Okay, fine. Let’s say you’re right. What comes next?”

I hold my keys up and back towards the door. “I’m going to take care of this shit myself. Don’t wait up.”

He follows me to the exit. “At least let me come with you. You should have backup.”

I ignore his request. “I’ll be back with Emery and Isabella soon.”

He groans as I walk away from him, but he doesn’t try to stop me. He knows it wouldn’t work, anyway.

I need to do this alone.

If Stefan is right and Emery is working with the Volandri mafia and I let her into my house, then I’m the fucking fool who allowed a spy to get close to me again.

And if that’s the case, then I’m the one who needs to clean up the mess.

The déjà vu settles in as I pull onto the highway. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to hop in a car to track down a traitorous runaway bride.

I can only hope tonight ends differently than it did before.

* * *

According to the GPS, the motel is less than an hour away. I get there in thirty minutes.

By the time I pull up in front of the crumbling two-story building, it’s full dark. There are a few cars in the parking lot, but the one that catches my eye is black and parked in the very back row. Emery clearly tried to tuck it behind a large blue dumpster to conceal it from the road, but she’ll have to do a lot better than that if she wants to hide my own shit from me.

The lobby is in a separate building off to the side. The front is entirely glass and yellow fluorescent lights shine through the cheap blinds like a bug catcher.

I pull in front of the lobby and step through the metal door. A bell chimes with my arrival.

“Welcome to The Priority Inn,” the man behind the counter drones. “Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m not here to stay.”

He looks up from the computer screen where he’s playing Solitaire. “Then what can I help you with?”

“I need to know which room Emery Tasarov is staying in. Or Montague. Or…” I grimace. “I don’t know what fucking name she used, but a blonde woman and a little girl in a wheelchair came in here tonight. I need to know which room they’re in.”

Immediately, I know he’s seen her. The man’s shoulders tense. He swallows audibly. “Sorry, sir. I can’t give out that kind of information.”

I sigh and crack my knuckles. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” I tell him. “Which room is she in?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what is going on between the two of you. But I won’t be put in the middle of it. Here at The Priority Inn, guest privacy is important to us. I will not sacrifice that trust in order to—”

I whip my gun out and press it to the man’s forehead. “I suggest you make ‘surviving the night’ your new priority.”

He swallows and nods pitifully.

“Take me to her room,” I order. “Now.”

The man slowly grabs a set of keys from the wall and walks around the desk. “Easy, man, okay? I’m cooperating. No need to keep the gun on me.”

“How about you shut the fuck up and do as I ask?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally.” He nods like a bobblehead, reeking of fear-sweat. “That’s fine, too.”

The man walks through the front doors and out onto the sidewalk. He takes a staircase on the side of the building that leads to the second floor and then walks down to a door in the middle. Number 71. I can see a light on through the skinny gap in the curtains.

“Knock,” I tell him.

He sags, clearly hesitant. “Please, man, just let me go back to the office, and—”

I press the gun to his back. “Knock and say you’re maintenance. Now.”

“Fuck,” the poor bastard grumbles under his breath. Then he knocks on the door three times. I step sideways out of view of the peephole.

“Hello?” Emery’s voice comes from the other side of the door. She doesn’t move to unlock it.

Smart girl. She’s expecting me.

“Ms. Smith?” The clerk’s voice is shaky, but it’s convincing enough. Or it better be. I don’t feel like kicking in a door right now. “I’m from the front office.”

“What do you need?” she asks.

He looks to me like he expects me to be holding fucking cue cards. I narrow my eyes.

“M-maintenance,” he blurts. “Um, I’m here about some… maintenance.”

I should shoot the poor fucker now and put him out of his misery. He’s useless.

“It’s late,” Emery says. “Can you come back in the morning after we leave? The room is fine.”

“Gas,” I snarl in a violent whisper. “Gas leak.”

“There’s a g-gas leak,” the man says. “I need to check the… gas.”

Silence. Dammit.

I shake my head and start scheming another way in—when suddenly, I hear the clank of the bolt sliding from the inside.

The door cracks open slightly. A shaft of light slices across the cement. Then her face appears.

“There’s a gas leak in our room?” she asks. “Or in the building?”

The man shakes his head, his mouth hanging open uselessly. “Um… well, I don’t…”

He looks over at me. Rolling my eyes, I step forward and shove him aside. He starts trying to escape towards the stairs, but I snag him by the scruff of his shirt and keep him pinned at my side.

Satisfied he isn’t going anywhere, I turn to my wife.

“Miss me?” I snarl viciously.

Emery gasps and tenses up like she’s about to slam the door shut, but I show her the gun. “Let’s not cause a scene,” I croon.

"Adrik," she whispers. "Please."

“‘Please’ won’t work anymore, kiska." I wave her backward. "Open the door. You and Isabella are alone?"

She frowns. "Yes, we're—Why wouldn't we be alone?"

"Why would you be here at all? Why would you sneak out of my house without a single fucking word?" I lean forward. "How the fuck should I know what you're up to?"

She glances behind her, and I assume she's checking on Isabella. But she could have half the Volandri mafia standing behind her for all I know.

"You don’t want to upset Isabella. So be a good girl and do as I tell you."

Emery's chin wavers as she fights back tears. "You aren't the only one who doesn't know what's going on," she hisses. "I have questions, too, and I'm not leaving until—"

It's official. I'm out of patience.