Ruthless Saints

I take a seat behind the monitors and dial Alexei’s number. My eyes go from one screen to the next, searching for any trace of Rudaj’s cousins. The one screen shows all underground chatter. CCTV footage flashes on the other, my facial recognition software checking every face.

“Yes,” Alexei answers.

“I’ve got nothing,” I mutter. “It’s like they fucking disappeared.”

“I’m heading to Budapest. Viggo was spotted there.”

“No sign of Admir, though,” I say, and leaning back in the chair, I let out a sigh. “You think they’re together?”

“It will make the job easier, but no. The first thing you do when shit goes down is split up.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I think Admir is still in Switzerland. He’s going to come after me.”

“That’s why you need to lay low. Maybe you should go to the safe house. Stay there until I’ve taken care of them.”

How the fuck would I explain that to Hailey? She wouldn’t go with me.

“Not yet. We’ll stay close to home,” I say. The windows are bulletproof, and the best thieves will need a shitload of time to break the code to get inside. I’m rigged for war. My home is more secure than any safe house.

“You haven’t told her yet?” Alexei asks.

“No. I’ll tell her tomorrow.” I let out another sigh.

I can feel the storm brewing, and it will be here soon.

“You’re running out of time. If they attack, she’s going to find out the hard way,” Alexei warns me.

I know.

Christ, I know.

The monitor beeps, and it zeroes in on the side profile of a face. “Hold on, I’ve got a hit.” I move closer and check the details. “Seventy-four percent possibility for Admir. I can’t see his whole face. Shows Geneva.” I zoom out and check the surroundings. “I don’t think it’s him. This guy is at a park with kids.”

“Probably a lookalike. Keep searching,” Alexei voices his thoughts. “I’m getting on the plane. Call me if you find anything.”

“I will.”

“Watch your back,” he reminds me again.

“Don’t worry.”

We end the call, and I read through the underground chatter.

Where the fuck are you?

The hours begin to slip away, and it’s close to three am when a message pops up on my screen.

Nightcrawler: AR info. What’s it worth to you?

AR stands for Adrim Rudaj, so the odds are the information is real. I type out a reply.

Ubiytsa CK: Sample

Nightcrawler: Hailey Welsh

Fuck.

Ubiytsa CK: 500K

Nightcrawler: 1M

Ubiytsa CK: Accept

Nightcrawler: AR knows where you are. Attack imminent. Twenty-three men. VR is in Budapest. It’s a trap for AK.

I dial Alexei’s number to let him know what I just learned.

“Yes,” he answers.

“Budapest is a trap. Viggo’s there.”

“Of course, it’s a fucking trap. You think I’d go in blind?” Alexei bites out.

“Just be careful.”

Another message comes through, and I skim over it.

Nightcrawler: Payment - 0007890124

I continue relaying the information, “Admir knows where I am. The informant says he’s coming with twenty-three men.”

“You don’t leave your fucking house,” Alexei warns me. “I’ll take care of Viggo and then come to you. Just lay low for two days.”

“I will.”

We end the call, and I make the payment to the account.

Ubiytsa CK: Closed

Leaning back in the chair, I stare at the security monitors from the cameras positioned around the house. It’s quiet… for now.

Getting up, I leave the armory, making sure to lock the door, and when I get to the bedroom, I lie down beside Hailey. I push my arm beneath her head and pull her to me.

She throws her leg over mine and snuggles into my side.

Problems. So many fucking problems.

How will she react when she finds out who I am?

Will we get through this coming war without it tearing us apart?

Is her love for me strong enough to overcome the lies I’ve told her?

I tighten my arms around her and press my lips to her hair.

I can’t lose Hailey.

HAILEY

I’m busy making scrambled eggs when my phone starts ringing.

Seeing it’s my mom, I turn off the stove and answer, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart. I was just thinking about you and wanted to hear your voice before I head to bed. How are you?”

“I’m great, just made scrambled eggs,” I reply. I glance in the direction of the living room to make sure Carson hasn’t come up from his mancave slash office, then say, “Remember that guy I told you about? Carson.”

“Yes. The recluse?”

“That’s the one,” I grin. “I didn’t scare him off.”

“I told you not to worry,” Mom says.

“We’re dating,” I drop the bomb.

“Is it serious?” I can hear the concern in my mom’s voice.

“Yes. Very serious,” I answer honestly, not wanting to hide anything from my parents.

“How old is he? What does he do for a living? Take a photo of his ID and send it to me,” Mom starts doing what she does best – worry about me.

“He’s twenty-five and in construction like Daddy. I’ll send you the photo. He’s really nice. You’ll love him.”