Nikolai 2 (Her Russian Protector #6) (44 page)

Devil stood up to take Nikolai's place at Besian's bedside, but he held up a hand to stop him. He crossed the waiting room to stand in front of her. "You're Marley."

She swallowed and glanced around the room. "Yes."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Of course." A hint of a smile brightened her face. "Everyone knows who you are."

"Are you here to see Besian?"

"Yes." Her answer came quietly. "I just—I wanted to say thank you. He doesn't even know me, but he saved me."

Nikolai had his suspicions as to why Besian had run into the line of fire for this woman, but he kept them to himself. "You can go in and see him. If the staff asks, tell them you're his little sister."

"His sister?" she repeated skeptically.

"A little white lie here and there?" He shrugged. "If you don't want to see him—"

"I do." She was on her feet in an instant.

Nikolai stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I'm sure I don’t need to tell you this, but be careful about what you say in that room and to anyone else."

Marley nodded gravely. "I understand."

He was certain that she did. A girl didn't grow up around an outlaw motorcycle club like the Calaveras without picking up some useful underworld survival skills.

Nikolai watched her disappear around the corner and into the ICU ward before joining Devil. "Make sure that she gets home safely. I'm sure Spider has a tail on her, but add one of your own. Your boss took one to the chest to protect her. Let's try to make sure she's still alive for him to chase when he gets out of here."

The smile that contorted Devil's badly scarred face seemed more sinister than amused. "I'll keep an eye on her."

Satisfied that he had done his duty to Besian, Nikolai left the hospital with Artyom and Kostya. His legs grew heavier with every step. By the time he reached the Tahoe, he felt as if he were dragging around cinderblocks. He sagged against the seat and mustered what was left of his energy so he could finish what needed to be finished before going home to Vivian. "Tell me about the shooting."

Kostya leaned forward from the rear seat. "There's not much to tell. We went to the meeting to exchange the tape Abby Kirkwood had in her hands for Lorenzo Guzman's promise that he would extend his protection to her and her brother. Julio crashed the meeting by driving a van right into the middle of it. A standoff happened. He held Marley like a shield, kept a gun to her head, and went batshit fucking crazy. Romero taunted him. Lorenzo begged him to stop. Besian was the only one who tried to negotiate with him."

Nikolai imagined the chaotic scene. "And then what happened?"

"I saw Julio's head explode." Kostya tapped his temple. "Blood and bone and brain went fucking everywhere. The girl screamed before I even heard the shot's report. She was blindfolded and tied up. She couldn't move or see. The bullets started flying. I went for cover. There was glass blowing all over the place. I couldn’t find the shooter. The echo was so bad down there."

"Besian?"

"The girl fell, and he ran out after her. It was brave but stupid. He scooped her up and ran, but the sniper was fast. Besian got hit, and he threw the girl at Jack Connolly. Jack was a Marine. He didn't panic like the others. The second those bullets started snapping, he picked up his woman and tossed her behind the closest engine block. When Besian threw Marley at him, he caught her and stowed her away with Abby. I couldn't believe my fucking eyes when Jack saved Besian."

"Jack Connolly?" Nikolai blinked. "Jack saved the man who nearly got his little brother killed in those fights? The man who threatened to take away his gym because of their father's bad debt?"

"Those Connolly guys are a different breed. It's that Marine training. It changes a man. I've never met one who went bad after leaving the military. That honor and loyalty gets into their bones." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small plastic bag that he handed forward. "Speaking of the Connollys…"

"What is this?" Nikolai took the bag from Kostya and held it up to examine it. He found himself staring at a bloodied bullet. "Is this—?"

"From the Ghost," Kostya confirmed. "I dug it out of the wall before I took the corpse and put it on ice."

"Where is he?"

"In one of my facilities."

"Finn Connolly shot him?" Nikolai rolled the bullet around between the plastic.

"One shot. Perfectly placed between the eyes," Kostya stated. "He's one hell of a sniper. It's too bad he doesn't freelance. We could use him."

"There are other ways to get him to work for us." Nikolai handed back the bullet. "Keep that safe. The body too."

"
Da
."

"Do you know what he did with the rifle?"

"Finn?" Kostya shrugged. "I would assume he put it right back into storage. I can find out."

"Find the gun. We might need it."

Neither Artyom nor Kostya asked why. They both knew what he was planning. Nikolai didn't relish the idea of blackmailing and extorting a man like Finn Connolly, but his endgame was clear and hard choices had to be made.

When they reached the house, Artyom dropped him off at the back gate. He felt his burden lightening as he walked onto his property. He zeroed in on Ten sitting on the back steps. He scowled like a misbehaving puppy that had been banished outside.

With a sigh, Nikolai meandered over to check the garden beds. He didn't spot any weeds or wilting. So far so good. He walked toward the pergola and noticed too many dead and dying center roses on the cluster. He didn't often dead-head these in the summer, but Vivian spent so much time out here. He wanted her to have a beautiful place to sit and enjoy her mornings and evenings.

As Nikolai picked up the pail and pruning shears he kept near the pergola, Ten lumbered over and watched him snip away the center roses and trace canes to healthier shoots for pruning when necessary. He glanced at Ten and asked, "What did you do to piss her off this early in the morning?"

"The detective is here. She sent me outside before he arrived."

Nikolai lowered the shears. "Eric is here?"

Ten nodded. "He's in the kitchen."

Nikolai dropped the shears into the pail and pushed it into Ten's hands. "Dump these in the compost."

With powerful, long strides, he crossed the yard and took the steps two at a time. He entered the sunroom through the French doors there and immediately heard the loud voices coming from inside the house.
Shit
.

So much for his quiet morning catching up on sleep and enjoying Vivian.

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Miss Vivian?" Boychenko poked his head into the kitchen where I sat at the breakfast table enjoying a cup of tea and some peanut butter toast. Ten sat across from me and shoveled a shocking amount of bacon and eggs into his mouth. His appetite trounced Sergei's. If he ever cut back on his workouts, Ten was going to get flabby fast.

Tearing my gaze away from Ten's plate, I asked, "What is it, Boy?"

"The detective just pulled up out front."

"Oh." I glanced at Ten who had stopped chewing. "You need to go outside and stay there until Eric leaves."

He swallowed. "I'm eating."

"There's a bench in the pergola."

Ten started to argue but didn't. He used his fork to push the last of his eggs and bacon onto a slice of toast. He smashed the hastily arranged sandwich between another thick toast slice, picked up his glass of orange juice and left the kitchen. I rolled my eyes at his broad back but couldn't help the little smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.

The doorbell rang, and Boychenko waited for my instruction. "Let Eric inside, please. Ask him to come back to the kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am."

I finished my toast and tidied up the table. Eric walked into the kitchen as I was wiping crumbs off the counter. He stalked across the room, wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up in a bone-crushing hug. "God, I'm so glad you're all right."

"Eric," I said with a laugh. "I'm fine. Um—maybe you could loosen up a bit?"

"Sorry." He put me down and let go of me. His hand settled on my shoulder as he looked me over. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

Eric's face suddenly slackened as he got a good look at me. His brown eyes glinted with panic. "You're pregnant."

My hands moved to the noticeable curve to my once-flat stomach. The yoga pants and tank top were too slim-fitting to hide anything. "Yes."

"No." Eric slashed his hand through the air. "You can't be pregnant."

"Eric," I huffed with laughter, "I absolutely can be. That's sort of what happens when people get married."

As if on the verge of a full-blown anxiety attack, he gripped both my hands and gave them a shake. "But he'll never let you go now. He'll own you. He'll own this baby. Jesus, Vivian! What were you thinking?"

"Eric." I shouted his name in the hopes of breaking through his frenzied state. "Calm down!"

"Calm down?" He let go of my hands and cupped my face. "Vivian, open your fucking eyes. Do you see what's happening? The cartel war is
here
. You aren't safe anymore. Your father is poking his finger in Lorenzo Guzman's face and daring him to attack. You'll be at the top of his list of targets."

He wasn't telling me anything I hadn't already worked out for myself. "Nikolai will keep me safe."

"Nikolai is the biggest danger to you and this baby." One of his hands moved down to cup my bump. His eyes flashed with such pain and anguish. "He'll kill you just like he killed her. Only this time? It won't be his hands that do the dirty work. It will be some
sicaria
who gets close enough to you to jab her blade between your ribs."

Jerking on my hands, he tugged me forward. "No. I'm not letting him kill someone else I love. You're coming with me. I know people who can hide you."

"Eric!" I tried to pull free but his grip was too tight. "Stop! Let me go!"

"You can kick and scream all you like, but you're coming with me."

Why hadn't Boy come to my aid? Surely he could hear us arguing.

"That kid isn't coming to help you," Eric said as if reading my mind. "He's passed out and tied up in the entryway."

"Eric! Are you insane? You can't do this!"

"I'd like to see someone stop me. I have a badge and a gun." He tugged hard and pulled me out of the kitchen. "I should have done this last December. I should have made you come with me then. None of this would have happened. You never would have been kidnapped. You wouldn’t have married Nikolai. You wouldn't be pregnant with his baby."

"Eric!" I smacked his arm and back. "Let me go! I'm serious! Stop!"

"No. I'm doing this for your own good. I'm doing this to save your life."

This was what Nikolai and Tatiana's lies had done to Eric. They had reduced him to this panicked, paranoid man who was trying to kidnap me. It was time for me to tell the truth and shame the devil.

I planted my feet against the wood floors of the dining room and dug in my heels. "Tatiana isn't dead. She's alive."

Eric stopped cold. He spun toward me. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Who told you that?"

"Nikolai."

"He's a liar."

"Sometimes," I agreed, "but he's not lying about this. I saw her."

"That's impossible. She's dead. I saw the photos of the car wreck."

"You saw the photos?" But Nikolai had said that only Maksim and Tatiana's father had been sent the photos. "How?"

Eric ignored my question. "Whatever you think you know about Tatiana is wrong. Nikolai killed her because of me."

"No, Eric." I tried to be gentle. "Everything you know is wrong. He didn't kill her. He saved her—and you. He had Kostya fake a car wreck. They made it look real. They sent photos to Maksim and to her father. She let Kostya take her finger as proof."

I hesitated and decided not to tell him about the pregnancy. Not yet.

"Kostya and Nikolai got her out of the country. They smuggled her into Australia. She stayed there for a while before moving to Hong Kong and starting a new life as Tatiana Melnikova. She built a new identity around her old one. She's alive, Eric."

His fingers loosened their grip. My hands dropped to my sides. He swallowed once, then twice, and turned his back on me. For a moment, I thought he was going to be sick. I placed my hand on his shoulder, but he roughly shoved it off. "Don't."

"Eric…"

"Don't." He whirled on me with fiercely angry eyes. "How long have you known?"

"I found out the morning of my show." That seemed to lessen his intense feelings of betrayal. "I've only been home for a day, Eric. I'm telling you now because you have a right to know."

"A right to know?" he ground out furiously. "I had a right to know before she left!" Eric blew up suddenly and swept his arms across the top of the sideboard. Dishes and dining accessories went flying everywhere. Serving bowls and platters crashed onto the floor. Napkin rings bounced and rolled with a clatter. Candles hit with a thud. I took a quick step back and hugged the wall.