The Enemy in My Bed by L.K. Shaw
Chapter 30
Pierce
Milaand I haven’t had a moment to ourselves over the last four days. Not that I begrudge her this time with her sister. If I’d been able to help Francesca after we got her back from the Russians, I’d have done the same thing.
The two of them have spent their days getting reacquainted, and Mila has been sleeping with a nightmare-plagued Anya every night. Theresa, the widowed mother of one of our soldiers and also a shrink, has come over a couple times to talk with her. I’d hired her to stay with Francesca all those years ago, and she’d been a tremendous help to her.
“Are you ready for this?” Jacob asks.
We’ve been sitting in his office for the last two hours, preparing for our raid, going over every detail of the plan, planning for every contingency. Wójcik’s information had been accurate, and we got confirmation that Maksim is at Tatiana’s. He’s either the stupidest fuck or the bravest, because our sources tell us he’s there alone. No guards. No backup. I only hope we’re not stepping into a trap.
I’ve foregone my usual shot of bourbon, because I need the anger to fester, to burn from the inside out, and explode into violence and chaos. Tonight, the bastard who brutalized Mila is mine.
“I will end him,” I promise.
Jacob takes a sip of his whiskey, letting the silence linger. “Brenna and Moira have been planning our wedding reception over the last week,” he says out of nowhere.
Since the wedding itself had been private, Sal had encouraged them to hold a reception and invite all the families, both Irish and Italian. Planning had been postponed when Brenna was taken.
“I said before I thought it was a good idea. It’s a way for all the soldiers and captains on both sides to show their respect for your new marriage and for Brenna. And for them to get to know each other. We haven’t really been able to celebrate either your marriage or our victory over the Russians.”
Jacob leans back in his chair with another sip. “It might be a good time to introduce Mila, as well. Tempers might be a little less volatile. Especially with Brenna and Francesca there to soothe them. Seeing my support will also help.”
“I’ll think about it.” It’s the most I can acknowledge. At least until I’ve put Maksim in the ground. “All right, let’s go get the bastard.”
I am going to fulfill my last promise to Mila.
Jacob,Dino, and I enter the club through the front door, our semi-automatic weapons tucked under our jackets. No need to raise an alarm until it’s time.
“We’re closed,” a man with a Russian accent calls out from behind the bar as we step past the few remaining patrons who stumble outside on unsteady feet.
Ignoring him, Jacob and Dina continue striding across the dance floor while I make a detour toward the bartender.
“Hey. Didn’t you hear me. I said we’re—“ his mouth snaps shut at the sight of the weapon pointed at him.
“Where’s Maksim?” I bark.
“Who?” he stutters.
Before he can blink, I close the distance and slam him face down onto the top of the bar. He cries out in pain. I let go of my gun and yank out my knife. A trail of blood runs out of his nose to pool on the wooden surface he’s pinned to. I move in close and dig the tip of my blade into his neck.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I grind into his ear.
He swallows and then hisses in pain as the tip nicks his skin. “He’s upstairs. Second door on the right.”
“How do we get up there?”
“There’s a door inside the back room,” he rushes out.
“Any emergency exits? Is the roof accessible from his room? Or a fire escape? Who else is up there?” I rattle off each question.
“There’s a fire escape directly outside the window. There are a few of Maksim’s men. Five or six of them, I think. That’s it, I swear.”
I sense the truth in his words. Yanking him up by the collar, I stare down into his sweat- and blood-covered face. His nose has already swollen twice its size. “Leave, now. I don’t want to kill you, but I will.”
He bobs his head frantically up and down before taking off around the bar and straight out the front door. Fuck, I’m going soft. Should’ve slit his throat and been done. I meet up with Jacob and Dino.
“Back room,” I direct.
With weapons at the ready, we stride down the hall, eyes peeled. Dino heads to the end of it and opens the door. A handful more of our captains join us.
“Canvass the place. Make sure there aren’t any surprises. Severino and Maurizio, stay with Jacob and me. Maksim is in the second room. That’s mine. The three of you take the rest,” I instruct everyone.
We split up, and four of us enter the back room. There’s the door. A quick turn confirms it’s locked. Stealth or direct attack? If there’s a fire escape, I don’t want him getting away. I step back and let Maurizio do his thing. He’d been a petty thief as a kid, before Jacob recruited him into the syndicate. The best lock-picker in Brooklyn.
Within seconds, the door’s unlocked and we’re climbing the stairs. Loud music floats around us, the thump thump matching the beating of my heart. We pause at the top of the steps, assessing. It’s a short hallway with three doors on the right and two on the left. The dim overhead lights spaced evenly along the ceiling flicker and hum. It smells like weed, and there’s almost a haze filling the empty space.
I wave everyone forward, and we move in a coordinated swarm, keeping to the walls. At the second door, I pause for only a moment before slamming my booted foot into it. It crashes open, and yelling comes from inside. I ignore everything around me, trusting my brothers to take care of anyone else up here. My entire focus is on locating Maksim.
Gunfire opens up, and I dive for cover just as a bullet pings next to my head. It’s as though a flood gate opens and more gunfire erupts around me. The sound of glass breaking. I look up to see my prey scrambling out the window onto the fire escape. No fucking way. I rush to my feet and burst out onto the rickety metal staircase.
Maksim fires his gun, and a searing pain rips through my arm, but I ignore it. I tear down the rest of the steps and take off on foot, chasing him through the alley behind the building. His breathing is loud and panicked as I gain on him. When I’m within range, I pull out my Glock, stop to take aim, and bring him down with a bullet to the leg.
He screams and drops to the ground. I’m on him in seconds, the muzzle of my gun against his temple.
“Mila sends her regards.” I pistol whip him until he’s unconscious. It brings me only mild satisfaction. I won’t be happy until he’s dead and buried.
“Pierce.”
I jerk around, aiming my weapon, but lower it to my side at the sight of Jacob.
“We secured the location. Severino took a hit, and they’re transporting him to a safe house where Marino will meet them.” He tips his chin in my direction. “You’re hit, too?”
I barely even glance at my arm, shrugging it off. “It’s fine.”
Dragging Maksim to his feet, I duck and throw him over my shoulder. I follow Jacob to the end of the alley, where Aurelio waits with the town car. My prisoner lets out a groan at being dropped none too gently in the trunk.
“Take us to the warehouse,” Jacob instructs his driver.
We climb into the back and he pours himself a drink, not even bothering to ask me if I want one. He knows me well. It’s a quiet ride out of Brighton. We don’t often invade Russian territory, unless a situation calls for it. Like tonight. I’m too keyed up to rest my head against the supple leather seat. Instead, I sit, motionless, mentally doing inventory on the implements I have in my tool box, and which ones I plan on bringing out.
Aurelio eventually pulls into the parking lot of the power plant and drives to the back of the building shielding us from prying eyes. The bulbs that previously lit up the lot have long burnt out so the moonlight is our only guide. Not that I need it. I’ve memorized every inch of this area, and could access it with my eyes closed.
I drag the semi-conscious man out of the trunk, once again throwing him over my shoulder, while Jacob leads us through the door, locking it behind, and down the cool narrow pathway. This is my domain. The place that makes me the happiest. Because it’s where I can release all the anger I’ve been holding on to.
A familiar calm washes over me while Jacob steadies Maksim, and I lock his wrists into the metal cuffs dangling from the chains in the ceiling. They’re just long enough to make an average height man stand on tiptoes or risk yanking his shoulders out of joint. It’s an uncomfortable position to maintain for long stretches of time.
Once I’ve ripped the shirt off his body, I grab the bucket from beneath the sink, fill it with water, and throw it in the face of my prisoner. He sputters and coughs, shaking his head. His eyes flutter open, and he blinks water out of them before his gaze travels around the room that will be home until I’m finished with him.
“Welcome to your hell,” I greet him with a cold, deadliness, tossing the bucket halfway across the room into the sink.
He replies with an insane grin. “Ah, the Italians. I should have known it was you knocking on my door. You didn’t get enough with Mikhail’s death, then?”
“Not even close. But this has nothing do with your father,” I tell him, inhaling a deep, lung-filling breath. Underneath his flippant façade, there’s a hint of the sour stench of fear wafting off him. It’s a mere tease, but before I’m done it will be spilling out of the room.
His flinch is barely distinguishable, but I spot it nonetheless. “Then again, he never acknowledged your relationship, did he? Didn’t name you as his second in command. The one who would rise to power if anything happened to him.”
He sneers at me. “He didn’t need to. I was proving myself invaluable to him, and when the time came, he was going to let me lead.”
“Yet it’s been two weeks since his death, and we still find you hiding out in a dingy little room above a low-class night club instead of ruling your own estate,” Jacob mocks him from where he stands against the door.
“I’ve been building my own empire, and my father never even had a clue,” Maksim spits.
“By selling women,” I say.
That satisfied grin crosses his face again. An image of him using the same one on Mila fuels my rage. It’s only increased by the pain he’s caused her by what he did to her sister. I’m done with talking. He watches me as I move to his right and open my tool kit. I pull out several of my favorite implements and lay them in a neat row on the shiny metal table beside it. I’m saving my knife for when the fun really begins.
Maksim looks at me in mock surprise. “So you’re going to torture me over women you don’t even know. Strangers who mean nothing to you?”
I pick up the wooden-handled ice pick, turning it this way and that, admiring it before I meet his eyes letting pure hatred show from mine. In three steps, I close the distance between us until I’m standing nose to nose with him. “No. I’m going to torture you, because I enjoy it.” With the speed of a flash of lightning, I ram the ice pick straight into his gut, and lean forward to rasp into his ear. “I’m going to kill you for what you did to Mila.”
