The Crabtree was, as usual, a mess. The air was filled with smoke so thick visibility was restricted to about thirty-five feet. Not that it mattered—the room was only half-lit to begin with. The corners were a shrouded mystery of debauchery. The floor was packed with people surrounding the scattered pool tables, money changing hands every few seconds.
In the middle of the hazy room was a large wooden table. Over a dozen people sat around it, all engaged in their own conversations, yet seemingly oriented towards an imposing man sitting at the center. Every person sitting at the table had a patch sewn somewhere on their leather clothing: flaming skulls chasing each other over a Welcome mat that sat at the entrance to the gates of Hell. Underneath it said The Hell Brothers.
The man at the center of the table was resting his arm on a motorcycle helmet that had The Hell Brothers patch drawn on the front with Leader stamped across the top. He was handsome, in a hard way, with tattoos and scars haphazardly strewn across his body and a crooked smile that said he knew a thing or two about a thing or two. He turned to his left and looked at the gorgeous, olive-skinned woman sitting next to him.
The man opened his mouth, leaning forward to shout above the din, his auburn hair falling into his eyes, when the front door burst open, sending a cool draft of air across the room that parted the thick clouds of smoke clinging to the ceiling.
“Ace!” A very tall, very heavy-set man stood in the entrance, gasping for air as he leaned his huge belly against the doorframe. His long blond hair was falling from its ponytail, matting against his sweaty face.
The man at the table sat up, suddenly alert. “What is it, Smalls?” he demanded.
Smalls did his best to explain what happened between huge gulps of air. “Jackson…selling out back…Alexei showed up…”
Ace held up his hand. He didn’t need to hear any more to know what happened. “Thanks, Smalls. Take a breather, okay?” He needed Smalls with him out there, not passed out from exhaustion.
The Crabtree had once upon a time been considered off limits, a home base of sorts, where none of the gangs were allowed to conduct business, or settle old scores. It was a cease-fire zone where leaders could meet peaceably.
Then the Russian mob had moved in, taking the corner market on almost every territory with their foreign products and far-reaching fingers. Their leader, Alexei, was merciless, and his second-in-command, Yury, delighted in inflicting pain. They had no order, no code to keep them in line, which meant eventually they would burn themselves out. Ace just hoped the Russians wouldn’t take everyone else out along with them.
Ace stood up and looked at the people sitting before him. “Riley and Diego,” he said, pointing at an incredibly good-looking black man with a goatee, and a short, stocky Hispanic man who was wearing sunglasses even though he was indoors. Without any hesitation, they both immediately stood and followed Ace to the door.
Smalls stepped back, holding the door open for the three men. He let the door swing shut on the smoky room, where the remaining patrons anxiously returned to their conversations, pretending they hadn’t overheard what had just transpired.
Still panting a little, Smalls led the men around to the back of the bar, where five men stood in a pyramid formation, the man at the front holding another man by the back of his neck with one hand, and pointing a gun at his side with the other. The one holding the gun was massive, well over six feet tall with ice-blond hair.
“Jackson,” Ace whispered to himself, recognizing the much smaller man being held at gunpoint. “What’s going on here?” he asked the group, his breath puffing small clouds in the cold night air.
“I just found your boy selling on our territory, that’s what’s going on,” the man with the gun, Alexei, said.
“The Crabtree isn’t supposed to be anyone’s territory, Alexei. You know that,” Ace said patiently. “And if it were going to be anyone’s territory, it would be The Hell Brothers.”
Alexei sneered at him. “You know all of downtown Chicago belongs to the Russians. Don’t make me give you a reminder,” he threatened, stabbing the gun into Jackson’s side, causing him to grunt with pain.
Ace sighed, annoyed. The Russians had their hands in a lot of cookie jars—trafficking, witness intimidation, hits—but their drug game was weak. They cut their coke with caffeine pills and their ecstasy was always laced. Alexei was too proud to admit it, but anyone who wanted good product came to The Hell Brothers.
“You should be happy The Hell Brothers keeps to themselves and doesn’t infringe on your other areas of business.” Ace countered Alexei’s threat with his own.
“What are you trying to say?” Alexei asked.
“I’m saying you’re a shitty businessman, Alexei,” Ace said disgustedly. Goosebumps raced up and down his bare arms. “If you did good business, you wouldn’t need to resort to busting low-level gang members who are breaking meaningless rules.”
Alexei looked at Ace like he was crazy. Who the fuck did this man think he was? Alexei raised his gun, cocking it as he pressed it to Jackson’s head. Jackson whimpered, staring at Ace, pleading with his eyes for him to do something.
“I’m going to kill this man if you don’t swear to me right now, in front of your own men, that you will stay out of Russian territory,” Alexei said flatly.
“Didn’t I just say he was a nobody?” Ace said, chuckling. He pushed his shaggy auburn hair back with one hand. “I don’t care about him.”
“Please…” Jackson sobbed, “Ace, help me—”
Jackson’s voice was cut off by a loud gunshot and he fell from Alexei’s grip, crumpling to the gritty asphalt of the wet back alley. He let out a high-pitched scream that settled into a low wail and he sat up, gripping his leg where Ace had shot him.
Ace lowered his gun and put it in the back of his waistband. “See?” he said. “Go ahead and shoot the dumb bastard for all I care.”
The men flanking Alexei shifted, muttering to each other under their breath. Alexei looked at Ace, snarling. He pointed his gun down at Jackson and fired, shooting him in the opposite leg. Jackson screamed and then immediately passed out.
“Don’t let me catch you interfering in our business again, Ace,” Alexei growled, his Russian accent finally making a subtle appearance. He turned and left, his men following him without a backwards glance.
Ace didn’t move until they had rounded the corner. Once they were out of sight, Ace whipped around to face his own men and began barking out orders.
“Riley, go tell Blake to call an ambulance. Tell them to prep for multiple gunshot wounds.” Riley took off at once at a run, his long legs silently carrying him back to the bar. “Diego, find Lianna and tell her to bring her kit around back.”
The shorter man nodded, his sunglasses gone. “On it, boss,” he said, quickly following Riley’s path, his feet slapping against the ground in his haste.
“Smalls, help me,” Ace said, pulling a bandana from his back pocket. Smalls’ hands shook as he removed the dark red bandana from around his head and passed it to Ace, who tied the two pieces of fabric together and wrapped them around Jackson’s leg, applying pressure to the wound.
Jackson woke slowly, groaning in pain. “Wh-why’d you shoot me, Ace? Why’d you do it?” he asked, taking shallow breaths.
“Because if I hadn’t shot you in the leg, Alexei would have shot you in the head,” Ace answered angrily. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing selling behind here, anyway?” he asked, tightening the tourniquet.
“Not so tight!” Jackson squealed. “Some college kids were down here looking for coke, enough for a party,” he explained. “What was I supposed to say to them? ‘Meet me five miles from here and it’s a deal’?”
Ace sighed, but didn’t loosen the makeshift bandage. If he did, Jackson might bleed out. “How much did you get?” he asked out of curiosity.
“A grand,” Jackson said, his eyelids beginning to flutter. Ace heard rapidly approaching footsteps.
Lianna had arrived with her medical kit. She had spent a couple of years as an EMT before joining The Hell Brothers, and was their resident doctor for sticky situations when the hospital wasn’t an option.
“Hang in there, Jackson,” Ace said, stepping back to give Lianna access. An ambulance wailed in the distance. Ace had a feeling it was only the first of many he would be hearing. Things with the Russians had been tenser than ever. It wouldn’t be long before something happened that forced the two gangs to settle the matter between them once and for all.
***
The thin wail of an Enrique Iglesias song echoed from the depths of Fiona’s purse. She stopped in the middle of lobby of the office she worked at and dug through the contents of her bag until she found her phone.
She pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was her best friend, Melanie. Fiona pressed the green button and answered. “Hey, Melanie. I’m just leaving the office now.”
It had been a miserable day at work for Fiona, again. She had come into her new job with the title Administrative Assistant, fully expecting to spend the first couple of months doing all of the bitch work, but last week marked six months, and she was still just the gofer girl.
She wasn’t even the gofer girl for the PR department either, which was where she eventually hoped to work. No, she was the designated bitch for the whole office. Step right up, everybody, and give Fiona an errand to do. Out of coffee? Fiona would get it. Need those papers sent out? Fiona would do it. How about your asshole wiped?
“Fiona?” Melanie said in her ear. “I’m really sorry you had a bad day, but remember to breathe, okay?”
Fiona realized she had been standing the parking lot next to her car, ranting for the last five minutes solid. “Sorry, Melanie,” she muttered, smoothing her thick brown hair. “I could just really use a vacation.”
“Couldn’t we all,” Melanie replied, drily. “Wanna have a girls’ night soon? Maybe we can have a staycation this weekend,” she suggested.
“That sounds exactly like what the doctor ordered,” Fiona agreed, her blue eyes lighting up at the idea of homemade hair masks and a bottomless glass of merlot, though Melanie was probably envisioning a nightclub and enough vodka to put down a horse.
Melanie Lang had always been Fiona’s wild friend. She was incredibly beautiful, tall and lithe, a model’s figure, with long, straight black hair that hung to her waist. In college, it had been Melanie who had given Fiona her first beer, encouraged her to try her first one-night stand, and once upon a time—and perhaps once or twice since—had given Fiona her first experience with pot. Melanie was daring, promiscuous, and she took risks Fiona would never even consider. She was, in short, everything Fiona wasn’t.
Fiona’s phone buzzed, bringing her back to Earth.
“Hey, can I call you back?” Fiona asked. “Niko is calling.”
“I wonder what he needs,” Melanie said cynically.
As Fiona’s younger brother, there was nothing Fiona wouldn’t do for Niko, and she knew the opposite was true, too, no matter what other people said.
“He’s better now,” Fiona insisted. “He got off probation five months ago and he hasn’t been in trouble since.”
Fiona and Niko’s childhood had been less than happy, with Fiona doing her best to shield Niko from the worst of it. Their father was a drunk, to the point that their mother had eventually abandoned him, leaving Fiona to pick up the pieces of their family at age fourteen. Niko had only been eight at the time, and now, eleven years later, he was still dealing with the aftermath in a variety of ways.
When he was younger, it was just schoolyard fights. Someone would say something about their mother running off, or their father’s consistent unemployment, and it would set Niko off. As he got older, though, Niko began to turn to drugs, usually coke, but any kind of upper would do. Anything so he could feel good for once.
Fiona felt sorry for him. He had been too young to remember when their family had been happy. She still had memories from before things got bad. Niko had no happy times to fall back on when he was struggling with life. But three months ago, Niko said his friend Paul had gotten him a job, and that things were finally looking up.
“I wish you would at least give him a shot,” Fiona said.
“We’ve been down this road before, Fiona. Several times, in fact. He’s a drug addict.”
“I told you—not anymore!” she protested. “And if you would just go out with him the one time, then maybe he would stop bugging me to bug you and he could move on.”
“Shouldn’t you answer your brother’s call?” Melanie asked, trying to change the subject.
Fiona rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll talk to you later,” she said. She quickly hung up with Melanie and switched lines, managing to catch Niko just in time. “What’s up, little brother?” she said when she answered.
“Just checking up on my Fi,” he replied, charmingly using his childhood nickname for her. “How do you feel about some brother-sister bonding time? Tonight? Your place?” he asked.
Fiona’s gut turned. It wasn’t unusual for the two of them to spend lots of time together. Growing up, they had only ever had each other, with Fiona as the primary caretaker. Fiona had even selected a college nearby so she and Niko could stay close. They never went more than a week without seeing each other.
And yet…Was Melanie right? Did Niko want something? More often than not, during their brother-sister bonding time, Fiona paid for their dinners, the movie, and anything else that came up, even going so far as to buy him groceries on occasion.
Fiona gave herself a mental shake. Niko wasn’t a bum, he was her brother, and he was just going through a rough patch. He was getting better, after all.
“Sounds great, Niko,” she finally answered.
“Awesome,” he said. She could hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll bring the booze!”
“Niko, you’re nineteen,” she reminded him.
“When has that ever stopped me before?” he said, chuckling.
Fiona hung up after giving Niko a warning about underage drinking. She got into her car and resisted the urge to send Melanie a smug text about Niko paying for something for once.
An hour later, he was at her front doorstep, brown paper bag in hand. Fiona brushed a chip of peeling paint from the doorframe as she answered. Her place was a piece of crap.
“What’d you bring me?” she asked cheekily, putting her hands out.
Niko reached into the bag and pulled out a box of wine. “Merlot, right?” he asked hesitantly.
Fiona nodded, happy he remembered. Melanie would probably scoff at the fact that it was box wine, but Melanie could stuff it. As far as Fiona was concerned, it was another point in her brother’s favor. “I have lasagna or empanadas,” she told him as she grabbed two wine glasses.
“Speaking from my vast knowledge of wine pairings, I think lasagna would go better with this oaky merlot. Once it’s been properly aired out, of course,” Niko said, opening the plastic bag inside the box and pouring the glasses for them.
Fiona laughed. Her brother was always cracking jokes.
“So, how have you been?” he asked once they had sat down to eat. “Are you still seeing Ass?”
Fiona set down her fork and glared at Niko. “I told you not to call him that. He overheard you last time.”
Ash, referred to as Ass by her brother, was a guy from the office a floor below hers. They had met in the building cafeteria one day two months ago and, from Fiona’s perspective, had been involved in a lukewarm, sporadic, half-formed relationship ever since.
Ash, however, had a tendency to be romantically aggressive, as Fiona liked to call it. Niko just called him Ass. Ash frequently dropped hints about bringing her over for dinner with his parents, despite her obvious reluctance, and he had even once suggested the two of them move in together, though he later claimed to be joking.
“Why are you still with him?” Niko asked. “Is he really that good in bed?”
“No, not really,” Fiona admitted. “But it’s better than nothing.” She wasn’t too sure about that last part, especially as of late.
Fiona wouldn’t consider herself a kinky person, but she still liked to mix it up a little in the bedroom. She couldn’t remember the last time Ash and she hadn’t had sex in the missionary position, if ever. She had tried to initiate sex with her on top once, but Ash had stopped her and moved so she was beneath him again. She stopped trying after that.
Maybe it’s my fault for not being open enough with him, she thought.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” Niko said, interrupting her, “it’s not true.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Fiona said defensively, knowing the question was pointless even as she said it. Niko always knew when she doubted herself.
“I know there’s nothing you, or anyone else, can do to fix whatever problems that guy’s got,” he said with a snort of laughter.
“Well, if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black!” Fiona exclaimed. She may have defended her brother to Melanie earlier, but Niko had enough of his own issues to focus on without making fun of someone else’s.
“Hey now,” he protested, “play nice.”
Fiona reached forward to poke the ticklish spot under his arm. “How’s that?” she teased, just like she used to when they were little.
Fiona had always had a solid, athletic build, with a narrow waist and thick thighs that gave her a much lower center of gravity than her skinny younger brother. Once she got a hold of him, she almost always won their fights.
Niko let out a satisfying yelp and Fiona reached to tickle the back of his neck. She spotted an opening and dug her finger into his side, expecting a girlish squeal.
Instead, Niko grunted loudly and dropped to one knee, holding his ribs where Fiona had poked him.
“Niko?” Fiona cried, alarmed. “What did I do?” Before he could stop her, she pulled up the hem of his shirt to take a look.
Huge bruises, blue, black, and purple, spread across his chest and sides, their edges tinged with green. Niko had always been skinny, and even now his ribs were clearly visible beneath the boot-shaped bruises.
Fiona gasped. “What happened?” she demanded. “Did you get into a fight?”
“Not exactly,” Niko said.
“Then what happened?” she repeated. “And don’t even think of lying to me right now, Niko Arthur Brown!” Fiona said, using his full name.
“I’m handling it, Fiona,” Niko said, glaring at her. “I don’t need your help, you know.”
“Have you taken a good look at yourself recently? Or, better yet, been to a hospital? I’m willing to bet you’ve got at least one fractured rib, by the look of you.” Fiona went into the kitchen and returned with her purse, which she sat on the dining room table and began to sort through.
“What are you doing?” Niko asked suspiciously as Fiona pulled out her phone.
“Since you won’t tell me what happened to you, I’m calling you an ambulance to take you to the hospital,” she replied smartly, dialing.
Niko lunged forward to knock the phone out of her hand. “I won’t let you. You can’t be getting involved in this, Fiona! It’s too dangerous for you!”
Fiona easily moved out of his way, holding the phone just out of reach. “Too dangerous for me?” she said. Niko crumpled as Fiona viciously stabbed a finger into his side. “You can’t even defend yourself against your sister right now. What hope do you have of defending yourself against these people again?” she asked, waving her arm towards his discolored midsection.
Niko said nothing. He merely lay on the floor, clutching his stomach. He was furious with his sister, but only because she pointed out something he already knew to be true. He had no hope of standing up to the Russian mob. Not by himself, anyway. He certainly wasn’t going to ask his sister for help, but perhaps there was someone else who could help him. Someone who already had a vendetta against Alexei and his men.
Fiona sank down to the ground next to her brother. “Please, Niko. Tell me what happened,” she begged. The longer Niko sat in silence, the more creative her imagination became. She closed her eyes. “How much money do you owe?” she asked resignedly.
Fiona knew there was only one reason Niko wouldn’t want to tell her how he had gotten his bruises. He was ashamed of them. Which could only mean one thing: Niko was in trouble again.
***
Fiona went into the kitchen and pulled an icepack from the freezer, throwing it to Niko, who winced as he raised a lean arm to catch it.
“Start from the beginning,” she ordered him, pouring herself another glass of wine.
Niko sat back, tousling his cropped brown hair. “I don’t know…” he moaned.
“Well, you’d better figure it the fuck out, Niko,” Fiona said, unconsciously falling into Mom-mode, with her fists squarely set on her wide hips, “because you getting killed by the Russian mob isn’t an option!”
He rolled his eyes. “Right, because that’s what I want. To be murdered. Very helpful, Fiona. This is exactly why I didn’t plan on telling you about this.”
“Yeah, and your cover lasted all of an hour and a half before I found out. Great job, Niko!” Fiona shot back. “I can tell you’ve really got a handle on the situation.”
She saw the hurt flash in her brother’s eyes and she mentally cursed herself. Yelling wasn’t going to help anything now. If she freaked, Niko definitely wouldn’t come to her the next time something happened.
She sat down next to him, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I just worry about you, and when I worry, I get angry. Will you please tell me what happened now?”
“Are you going to get mad?” Niko asked testily.
Fiona bit her lip at his tone. “I promise I won’t get mad.”
Niko leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You know my friend Paul who got me the job? Paul Ivanov?”
She felt her heart sink and tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. It was something Fiona was well practiced at by now.“You said his cousin’s friend hired the two of you to work at a bar,” she said evenly. “That wasn’t true, was it?”
Niko shook his head. “That part is true. His cousin Patrick did hook us up with the guy we were working for, Danny, but…” He trailed off, too ashamed to continue.
“But what?” Fiona pressed. Despite her promise, she was quickly losing patience with Niko’s reluctance.
“It’s not like I said before. Not anymore, anyway,” Niko said, hanging his head. Fiona thought she was going to scream if her brother didn’t spill in the next thirty seconds. “About a month ago, Paul and I were bussing tables one night when this guy walks in. He’s a tall, snooty-looking guy, like how dare you breathe the same air as him, y’know? Anyway, as soon as he walks in, the bartender goes to the back and gets Danny, who shuts the place down. Like, kicks everyone out except the staff. It was crazy.” He paused to take a sip of his wine and Fiona mentally screamed at him to get to the point. Niko seemed to be in a much better mood now that he had an audience.
“So after everyone leaves, in walks this other guy, biggest guy I’ve ever seen. His shoulders practically touched the doorframe when he came in. Scary guy. He gave me the heebie-jeebies.” Niko shivered dramatically to make a point. “He and Danny went to the back and Paul and I went back to cleaning. Cut to an hour later, the guy comes back out. He spots Paul and me and comes over to us.” Niko paused. “This is where I start to get stupid,” he warned her. “He asked us if we wanted to make quick cash running an errand for him. Paul said yes before I could say anything, and I figured I could use the money.”
He paused for a long time.
“What was the errand?” Fiona asked hesitantly, unsure if she really wanted to know.
“It was a drug run,” Niko blurted out finally. “Almost a pound of meth. Paul carried it and I was lookout.”
“Why did they beat you?” Fiona asked, trying to maintain her carefully constructed I’m not judging you face.
“They didn’t,” Niko told her dully. “Alexei, the big guy who sent us on the run, he was so pleased that he gave us five hundred bucks each, and a bonus: some coke.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m sure you can imagine what happened next. I got hooked on the coke and the cash. So did Paul —for the cash, anyway.”
“So then…” Fiona was still struggling to understand how Niko had gotten hurt in the situation.
“Everything was good for a few weeks,” Niko continued, seeing her confused face. “We got bigger and bigger runs, for more and more money. Then a couple of days ago Paul and I got jumped. They stuck guns in our faces and told us to hand over everything we had. The drugs and the money.”
“Niko!” Fiona gasped. “You refused to hand it over? They could’ve killed you!” she exclaimed.
Niko laughed again, anger beginning to creep into his voice. “Oh, we handed it over. That’s what nearly got us killed. They didn’t do this to me, Fiona,” Niko said, gesturing to his stomach. “Alexei did. When we got back, and he found out what had happened…he lost it. Went fucking nuts. He grabbed a bat and started swinging, then kicking when I finally fell down.”
“What about Paul ?” Fiona asked timidly, terrified of the answer.
“Alexei beat the shit out of him, too,” Niko said. “But he got off lucky,” he added.
Fiona made a face, bewildered. “How is that? You said he got beat up, as well.”
Niko sighed. “Yeah, well, do you remember that cousin of his I told you about?”
“Yeah, what about him?”
“I guess he’s pretty rich,” Niko told her, explaining nothing. Fiona bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep from screaming at her brother. “Alexei expects us to pay him back for what we lost. Paul ’s cousin Patrick paid for his half,” he clarified, continuing. “I still have to come up with mine.”
A long silence stretched between them.
Fiona stood up, pacing the living room. “I guess asking what happens if you can’t come up with the money would be a stupid question,” she said, finally breaking the quiet.
Her brother nodded. “I don’t think they would be quick about it, either.”
Fiona turned green and her stomach did a flip. “So, how much?” she asked him again, continuing to pace. Fiona wasn’t stupid. She knew her brother had been purposely avoiding this particular fact during his story hour.
Niko bit his lower lip and said nothing.
“Niko…” Fiona threatened, stopping in her tracks to glare at him.
He mumbled something under his breath.
“Niko!”
“Ten grand!” he yelled back, snapping. “Fucking ten thousand dollars, okay?”
Fiona sank back down to the couch, her eyes wide.
“Yeah,” Niko said solemnly. “I’m fucked.”
“Not necessarily,” Fiona said, optimistic. “He had to have given you some time to get the money together. How long do you have?”
“One week,” he replied heavily, nearly crushing her hopes with his fatalistic tone.
She jumped up from the couch and began to pace again. “Okay,” Fiona said, her mind going a mile a minute. “Okay, so I’ve got a couple grand in my savings account. I might be able to open a credit card and get a cash advance on it within a week, that should be at least another three thousand dollars right there, so that’s half of it taken care of…”
Niko watched as his sister walked back and forth across her small townhome living room, muttering to herself about accounts and advances. A slimy pit of shame grew in his gut as he realized he had gone his entire life allowing his sister to clean up his messes for him.
Every time he got into trouble, there she was to bail him out, no matter what he had done. And every time, the trouble he found himself in was worse and worse. Eventually, a time would come where Fiona wouldn’t be able to help him.
Is this that time? he wondered, hating himself that he was so weak. He tuned back into his sister’s ramblings. The least he could do if she was going to save his sorry ass was pay attention.
“…if I sell my car I could get another three, maybe four thousand, so that leaves a thousand…let’s say fifteen hundred dollars we need to come up with in a week,” she finished, looking at him expectantly.
He stared back at her. “Yeah, uh, that sounds great.”
“Do you have any ideas where you can get fifteen hundred dollars?” she asked, though what she really wanted to say was, You had better start helping me save you or I’m going to let them murder your ass.
“I might be able to borrow a couple hundred from Paul ,” he suggested.
“Okay, why don’t you give him a call and ask him while I go get more wine,” Fiona said, heading to the kitchen before Niko could respond.
If she didn’t get a minute to herself, she was going to flip the fuck out. Her brother had really pushed the limits this time. She had to help him, though. If she didn’t, he would be dead within a week. There was no way he would be able to come up with ten grand on his own.
Fiona poured herself another glass, reasoning that tonight had been incredibly stressful and that she was entitled to an extra glass of wine or three. Taking a deep breath, she reentered the living room and immediately saw Niko was white as a sheet.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed. She rushed to his side.
“Well, I’m glad we hung out at your house tonight. Paul said Alexei put someone on my place, to make sure I don’t run,” Niko explained, seemingly in shock. “He also said every day I don’t come up with the money, he’s going to add ten percent interest. I, uh, I guess it’s normally twenty percent, but, um, Paul said Alexei gave me the employee discount.” Niko broke into a crazed, uncontrollable laughter that quickly subsided into heaving sobs. “He wants me to fail, Fi!” he screamed. “He wants me to fail so he can kill me and pretend it was my own fault; that’s what he does!”
Fiona flinched, more at his tone than his volume. She had never heard the sound of pure terror before. It was particularly horrifying knowing that its source was her little brother. “We’ll think of something,” she finally said, sounding more confident than she felt.
“Like what?” Niko asked skeptically.
Fiona stood up. “Let’s just figure out tonight first, okay? You can’t go back home, obviously. You’ll stay here and we’ll work out a plan first thing tomorrow morning.” She forced a smile onto her face and went to grab a pillow and blanket for the couch.
Niko caught sight of the look on Fiona’s face just before she plastered that awful “everything is fine” grin across it. It was a look that said for once, she had no idea what to do. Niko took the bedding from Fiona, setting it next to him on the couch.
“Good night, Fi,” he said, flashing a quick smile at her. “I think I’m gonna watch some TV before I go to sleep. I’m feeling pretty wired, y’know?”
Fiona didn’t move. Niko gave her a look. “I’d ask you if you wanted to watch with me, but at this hour it’s just going to be infomercials and I know you hate late night TV.”
“I’m really sorry, Niko,” Fiona said quietly. “But I need you to turn out your pockets.”
Niko stared at his sister, a confused look artfully constructed on his face. “What? Why?”
“You know why, Niko. Please don’t turn this into a thing,” Fiona said flatly, her blue eyes aimed squarely at his shoes.
Niko began to puff his chest up, ready to stir up a dramatic outrage against his sister’s terrible insinuations, but one look at his big sister, a woman who had spent half of her childhood and all of her adult life taking care of him, and the tank of prideful hot air whooshed out of him in one big rush.
He stuck his hand into the small watch pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small baggie of cocaine, carefully, almost lovingly, rolling it between his tan, bony fingers.
“Can I trust you to do it?” Fiona asked quietly, interrupting his reverie. “Or do you need me to?”
“No,” Niko said firmly, strength filling his voice. “I can do it.”
He walked to the bathroom quickly, almost running, desperately trying to make it before he lost all the willpower his sister had imbued him with. The toilet flushed and Niko came back to the living room. He sat on the couch, rested his elbows on his knees, and then buried his head in his arms.
“I love you, Niko. Goodnight.” Fiona kissed the top of her little brother’s head and turned out the light, as she had done a million times before.
The next couple of days had the Brown siblings in high spirits. Fiona had found a potential buyer for her car that was willing to pay three hundred over the asking price, and Paul had said his cousin would help kick in two grand in thanks for keeping Paul safe. Between the money Paul promised to bring by, and the cash Fiona had made from selling a few other things, they were only eight hundred dollars away from saving Niko’s life.
Fiona woke up to the sounds of songbirds outside her window and the soft thud of the morning paper hitting her front door. She got up and went into the kitchen, passing her snoring brother on the couch. Starting the coffee machine, Fiona went about making breakfast, not caring to be quiet. Niko slept like a dead horse. The only way to wake him up was with an air horn or a cold bucket of water.
Testing this theory, she gave him a sharp prod in the shoulder where she knew he was uninjured. Nothing. Shrugging, Fiona walked to the front door to retrieve the paper. Her neighbor, Mrs. Montgomery, was walking by and waved hello. Fiona waved back as she bent down to grab the paper, not paying attention to what it was she was reaching for.
At the last second, she looked down, and saw her fingertips inches from a dead, brutally dismembered dove. Fiona shrieked and fell back, scrambling on her hands to get away from the bloody creature.
Niko’s head popped up, his brown hair pointing in all directions. “What is it?” he cried, pulling himself over the couch as fast as his sleep-laden limbs would allow him.
Fiona’s trembling fingers reached for the dove once again, using her thumb and forefinger to gingerly pluck a small, folded piece of paper from the bird’s beak. “A warning,” she said, the paper falling from her hands.
TIME’S UP.
It was only once Fiona put on two pairs of kitchen gloves and a bandana around her nose and mouth that she was able to carefully place the dead bird into a shoebox. Niko was gagging too much to be any help at all, so Fiona put the box in the garage, resolving to bury it once she had some time.
“What the fuck is a dead bird doing on my doorstep, Niko?” she demanded, washing her hands for the third time. “I thought you had another four days!”
Niko sat on the couch, staring dully at his feet. “I guess Alexei doesn’t want to wait any longer. If I don’t pay him by tonight…that’s it. Game over.”
Fiona stopped in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips. “Then I guess you won’t be here tonight,” she said finally.
“What are you talking about?” Niko tiredly raised his head to give her a confused look.
“We still need eight hundred dollars to pay him off, Niko,” she explained. “Can you guarantee that we’re going to be able to get that by tonight? Because I can’t.”
“So, what?” Niko said blankly. “You want us to run?”
“Not us,” Fiona said, looking down at her feet. She raised her head to look her little brother square in the eye. “Just you.”
“If you think I’m going to leave you behind, you’re fucking crazy,” Niko said with a small, disbelieving laugh.
“Don’t argue with me, and don’t swear,” Fiona scolded him. “They’re only after you, Niko. You only have to leave for a couple of days, until I can manage to pull some more money together.”
He scoffed. “Yeah? And how are you going to do that? Are you going to hit up the Tooth Fairy? We’ve tapped every resource available to us, Fi.”
Fiona bit her lip. If she told Niko who she was planning on asking for the money, then he would really worry, and they didn’t have time for that right now. “Don’t worry about it. I have it under control.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where you plan on getting almost a thousand dollars in a day’s notice,” Niko insisted, folding his arms.
Fiona rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” she said angrily. Her brother merely shrugged. “Fine,” she spat. “I was going to ask Dad. Happy now?”
Niko looked at her incredulously. “Dad? You were going to ask Dad?”
“Well, we don’t exactly have a lot of options, Niko!” she cried. “It’s either ask Dad or a bunch of scary men come to the house, kidnap, and murder you!” He looked at the ceiling, shaking his head. “You know he’ll have the money,” Fiona quietly added.
Their family had never been wealthy growing up, but their father, Nathan, had kept a decent paying job, despite his rampant alcoholism. A few years after Niko was born, Nathan’s two or three beers with dinner turned into a six-pack. And then into whiskey-Cokes. And then just whiskey.
He had managed to keep up appearances at work, confining his abusive, drunken outbursts to his home, where he could direct them at his wife and children. Their mother had put up with it for five years before, one day, she finally packed up all of her clothes and left while Fiona and Niko were at school, and Nathan at work.
The thing that had bothered Fiona the most about their mother abandoning them was that there had been no letter, not even a note. She had simply left. Fiona tried very hard to understand what would make a mother desert her children like that, but it was difficult not to resent her for the way she had handled things.
Once their mother left their father, he became withdrawn. He stopped yelling at his kids, and instead began to ignore them altogether. He would get up, go to work, come home, and drink until he passed out. Fiona would have to get up in the middle of the night to turn off whatever infomercial was playing on TV and throw a blanket over her unconscious father.
Fiona had left home as soon as she could, but stuck close for Niko, who often spent the night at her dorm instead of at home. Nathan had plenty of money, and as far as Fiona was concerned, he owed them.
“So it’s settled,” Fiona said, firmly closing the discussion. “You’ll take my car, and I’ll get the money from Dad. In a day or two I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come back.” It would take her the better part of a day to get to their father’s place in Des Moines, especially since she had to take a bus. Niko would need the freedom of a car if he were to have any hope of getting out of here alive.
Niko hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t like leaving you here by yourself! They know where you live, Fiona, obviously! What’s to stop them from hurting you to get at me?” he protested.
“I’m not going to be in town for the majority of the time,” she reminded him. “Also, how are they going to get any money at all if they hurt me? If you’re gone, I’m the only one who will be able to pay.”
“No, I’m not doing it,” he said stubbornly, folding his arms. “We’ll just have to figure out something else. You don’t understand what these people are like, Fiona!” Niko snapped suddenly, his eyes wild with fear. “This guy Alexei is seriously bad news. I don’t just mean ‘beat and murder me’ bad. He’s got a black hole for a heart, Fi, and he and his boys hunt people down like wolves, methodically, without mercy. He buys himself a piece of bling after every job he completes.” He shivered, staring dead ahead, not seeing anything around him. “Alexei’s not half as bad as some of his men, though. Vlad’s a special treat. That rat bastard is a true psychopath, and he loves his work. He looks like a king, but he does all the dirty work behind the scenes.”
“Well, Niko, if you have a suggestion, I’m all ears,” Fiona said, rapidly losing her patience as her heart began to fill with panic. “But as you told me not too long ago, we can’t call the police! Remind me why that is again?” When Fiona had first mentioned getting help, Niko had freaked and told her that calling the police was absolutely out of the question.
“Alexei has a guy on the inside,” he told her, sighing. “Probably more than one.”
“And you know this how?” Fiona asked.
“There’s a guy—William. I’m not sure if he’s related to Alexei or what, but he comes around all the time. He’s on the force. He comes in wearing his uniform. Lets Alexei know when things are starting to get hot,” he told her. “If we breathe even a word about Alexei to the cops, William is going to hear about it, which means Alexei will hear about it, which means you, me, and everyone we know will be killed.”
“Okay, no cops, I get it,” Fiona said, holding her hands up defensively. “I’m still not hearing you come up with a better plan than what we have.”
Niko bit his lip and plucked at the hem of Paul ’s t-shirt; when he dropped off the money, he had also given Niko some spare clothes to wear. Niko was a little taller, a little lankier than Paul’s stocky figure, so the shirt hung wide and short on him.
Fiona carefully scrutinized her little brother’s face, but he wouldn’t look at her. He was hiding something. “Out with it,” she commanded. “Whatever it is that you’re holding back, now is the time to bring it to the table.”
“It’s a long shot,” Niko began. “There’s literally no reason I can think of that he would help us, which is why I didn’t mention him before, but he’s the only person I know who Alexei is even a little bit scared of.”
“So, who is it?”
“His name is Ace Connor, but I don’t think that’s his real name. He’s the leader of one of the last motorcycle gangs around here, The Hell Brothers.” Seeing Fiona’s confused face, he continued. “It used to be that the gangs ran things around here, with their own territories. When the Chicago branch of the Russian mob came to town, they made quick work of most of the gangs. There are a couple gangs still clinging to life, but The Hell Brothers is the only one that’s managing to stay afloat. Mostly because Ace seems to be able to outsmart Alexei at every turn.”
“How do you figure Ace is going to even be able to help us?” Fiona asked skeptically. “I mean, if he can barely keep his own gang from getting destroyed, what hope do we have with him?”
“He does more than keep The Hell Brothers from getting destroyed. More than once Ace has sold drugs in Alexei’s territory and gotten away with it,” Niko pointed out. “He could be trying to draw Alexei out into an all-out gang war. If he is, maybe our situation could be the exact thing Ace needs to push Alexei over the edge.”
“That’s what you’re going with? We just walk up and ask him?” Fiona said.
“As you once said to me, I’m all ears for new ideas,” Niko replied drily.
“I have an idea!” Fiona cried, frustrated. “You leave town. I leave town. I get the money. I come back. I give Alexei the money. You come back. We all live happily ever after.”
“Where am I gonna go, Fiona? I can’t sleep in the car—I’m too out in the open. And I can’t stay in a hotel because all of our money is going to Alexei! I should stay here,” he insisted.
Fiona thought quickly. “You can go stay with Uncle Leon. He lives in Massachusetts. That should be far enough away.”
“We haven’t seen Uncle Leon in ten years, almost as long as Mom’s been gone. He’s not going to let me stay at his place.”
“Goddammit, Niko!” Fiona screamed, snapping. “I will fucking call Uncle Leon, okay? I will figure out something to tell him and I will call him. Just promise me you won’t say anything if he calls you by Mom’s maiden name, Carver. You know how he feels about Dad.”
Niko opened his mouth, but Fiona cut him off. “That’s the end of the conversation, Niko. Go pack. Now.” Almost the entire day had passed. The sun was just beginning to set, and her brother needed to be on his way.
His shoulders dropped, and he knew he was beat. “I just think—”
Niko was cut off once again by the sharp tinkling of broken glass. A harsh buzz flew by him, followed by a loud thud coming from the wall behind him. He and Fiona stared at each other for a second, then simultaneously turned to look at the wall they had heard the noise come from.
There was a small, bullet-sized hole in it. Niko confusedly looked at the window, which was now broken. Fiona’s eyes grew wide as she realized what had happened, what was happening. She grabbed her brother by the collar and yanked him down right as another bullet pierced a second windowpane, burying itself into the drywall right where Niko’s lungs had been.
They huddled behind the couch, hands over their heads as they listened to multiple shooters send what seemed like an endless hail of bullets, even though from the first to last shot it had probably only been ten seconds. A minute later, they heard someone yell at them from outside.
“Niko!” the man shouted in a deep, strong voice. “Niko, get out here! It’s time to take your medicine!”
“That’s Alexei,” Niko whispered, his own voice shaking.
“I know you’re in there,” the voice called.
“You have to get out somehow,” Fiona whispered back. “We need to create a diversion.”
“When did you turn into fucking Rambo?” Niko hissed. “A diversion? What exactly would you suggest?”
“One second.” Fiona took a quick peek over the couch and crawled on her belly to the kitchen, which had managed to avoid most of the damage. She stuck one hand up and grabbed a cupboard door. Niko heard the sound of glass and flinched, thinking the mob had begun shooting again.
“How about this?” she asked when she came back, grinning wickedly. Fiona had grabbed every bottle she had in her booze cabinet. Even the non-alcoholic mixers.
“Jesus, Fiona, there’s a lot of liquor here,” he muttered, looking at all of the alcohol. “You want to make Molotov cocktails? Who the fuck are you?” Niko said.
“I’m your big sister, and I’m gonna take care of you,” Fiona said with a small smile. “And stop swearing,” she added.
Despite the fact that it had been almost five minutes since they had heard anything from the mob outside, Fiona slid onto her stomach once more and army-crawled to her bathroom. She grabbed a stack of towels and the lighter from behind her scented candles, again making sure to stay low on her way back to the living room. She sat up against the back of the couch with Niko.
He picked up one of the towels and looked at the thick, fluffy, light pink fabric. “How are we supposed to fit these into the bottles? They’re huge!”
Fiona sighed and gave her brother a look. “Could you at least try to be helpful?”
“I’m sorry, Fiona,” Niko said, shaking his head. “But there’s no way we’re going to be able to tear these by hand. Couldn’t you have grabbed some scissors?”
She stared at him, wondering if handing him over to the Russians wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. Fiona picked up a bottle of lime juice and poured out its contents into a nearby plant, wrapping it in one of the towels.
Niko barely had time to ask, “What are you doing?” when she smashed the bottle on the corner of a wall, the towel muffling the sound of breaking glass.
Gently opening the towel, Fiona carefully selected a sharp piece of glass and used it to shred the other towels into more manageable strips of fabric. Niko, taking her cue, emptied any non-alcoholic bottles and filled them with liquor, creating more missiles.
“Good idea,” Fiona said.
He gave her a small smile and began stuffing the pieces of towel Fiona had cut into the bottlenecks. “What do you think they’re doing out there?” he asked her.
“Probably trying to decide how to get us out of here without being seen by the neighbors. One of them had to have called the cops by now; it’s been at least fifteen minutes since they stopped shooting.” Fiona frowned, realization falling across her face. “I just thought of something—I haven’t heard so much as a siren. Where are the cops?”
“I told you,” Niko said as he finished putting the last towel strip into the last bottle, “they’ve got William. He probably told his captain he’d check it out and then reported it as fireworks. That’s the usual story they give,” he said bitterly.
They arranged the bottles and took a look at their handiwork.
“What now?” Niko asked, looking at his older sister expectantly.
“Now, you get into my car and wait,” Fiona told him.
“I wait…until you join me, right?” Niko said.
Fiona looked at her brother with a sad smile. “Niko, the plan hasn’t changed. You have to go, and I have to stay so I can get the money—either from Dad, or that guy Ace. Don’t worry—they won’t hurt me if they want their money.”
Niko very strongly doubted that. But he trusted his sister, and though he would never admit it, not even to himself, he was secretly grateful for the extra head start she was giving him, though she was probably going to suffer for it.
Still, he was terrified for her. “Is it too late for me to tell you this is way too dangerous?” he asked, knowing it was futile.
“About nineteen years too late,” she replied, kissing his cheek. “Now get going, before they decide to burst in and finish us off. Wait a few seconds after I throw the first one, all right?”
Niko got into a crouch. “One last thing. If can figure out how to convince him, Ace hangs out at a bar downtown called The Crabtree. It’s a biker bar, so be careful.”
“Crabtree. Downtown. Check,” Fiona repeated, smiling. “Now, I thought I told you to get going.”
He took one last look at his sister, then half-walked, half-crawled to the garage door where Fiona’s car was, stretching up to grab the car keys from the key hook.
“Niko!” Fiona suddenly hissed.
He looked back at her, nearly falling over she startled him so badly. “What?” he whispered angrily.
“Don’t open the garage door,” she told him. “You can’t give them any warning where you’re coming from. The security deposit is pretty much fucked at this point anyway.”
He grinned and gave a thumbs-up. Sneaking into the garage, he quietly shut the door behind him. Fiona waited for a moment, then lit one of the rags hanging from the bottle. She rotated the flame until it had grown strong enough to remain lit even while soaring through the air.
Slowly pushing one of the couch cushions aside, she tried to get a proper look at the group of men standing outside her home. Two were talking near the walkway to her house, and three or four others hung back, waiting by their cars. Going by Niko’s descriptions, Fiona correctly assumed the white-haired giant standing at the end of her drive with the obnoxiously large diamond earring studs was Alexei. That probably meant the tall, raven-haired man next to him was Vlad.
Silently thanking her high school guidance counselor for encouraging her to join the tennis team, Fiona carefully took the flaming projectile and hurled it through the window. Since the large front window had been completely shot to shit, she had the perfect opening available to her.
The bottle lazily flipped end over end, casting a sharp, orange arc against the night sky. It exploded on the ground, blazing shrapnel flying in every direction. One man screamed, and Fiona peeked through the pillows to see one of his pant legs had caught fire.
So far, none of them had reacted. They were confused by what had just happened, staring at the man on fire. Fiona took this opportunity to light another and send it flying, aiming for the cars. She wanted to remove their ability to chase Niko once he escaped.
Fiona heard that strong voice ring out once more. Alexei was shouting for his men to hide behind the cars. They scrambled to obey, all except for the man who had caught fire. He was lying in the grass, motionless. If Niko was going to run, now was his best opportunity.
As though on cue, she heard her car start in the garage, and barely a second later, tires screeching. There was a loud crunching noise, and Fiona watched, amazed, as Niko shot out into the street, the garage door covering the windshield of the car. He struck the front corner of one of the cars and it spun, knocking Vlad to the ground, hard.
The large metal sheet obstructing Niko’s view slid off, and he cranked the wheel to peel out, speeding down the neighborhood road. Fiona hoped he knew where he was headed.
Alexei raised his gun, having finally collected himself. Before he could fire, Fiona sent her fourth missile out. A piece of glass flew by, slicing Alexei’s arm, and he shot his gun high into the air. Snarling, he whirled around to face the house and pulled the trigger rapidly.
Fiona ducked back behind the couch, covering her head with her hands and praying her cover would hold. Lighting another bottle, Fiona waited until there was a pause in the shooting, then quickly popped up to hurl the projectile out the window, immediately ducking back down afterwards.
This time, no bullets came back at her. Instead, she heard another set of tires squealing. One of the men had jumped into the undamaged car and was racing after Niko. Fiona peered through a space in the cushions. She couldn’t see any of Alexei’s other men, which she thought was probably a bad sign.
Fiona decided it was probably time for her to make her own exit. She began to make her way to the door, bringing a bottle and the lighter with her for insurance. As she crawled towards the back door of her townhome, Fiona saw that it had been jimmied and was slightly open.
An enormous shadow fell across her, and she heard a deep voice from behind say, “Move, and I kill you.”
***
Fiona froze, one hand poised in the air. If she weren’t very, very careful, Niko would end up an only child.
“Hello, Fiona,” the voice said.
It took every ounce of Fiona’s self-control not to turn her head in shock.
“Yes, I know who you are, Fiona Camilla Brown,” he continued in that cold, hard tone. “Do you know who I am?”
Fiona didn’t move, terrified to disobey his earlier instructions.
“Nod if you know who I am,” he told her.
She nodded.
“Do you want to live?” he asked her.
Fiona nodded again. Her throat was dry with fear, and she knew if she tried to speak, her voice would crack.
“Then put your hands up slowly and turn to face me,” he ordered.
Fiona did as he said, wobbling from one knee to the other as she turned around.
If he had seemed like a giant outside, up close, on her knees, he was colossal. His massive, hulking shoulders loomed over her, and Fiona instinctively cowered a little, frightened by his emotionless expression. His gun, which was only a few inches away from Fiona’s face, took up the rest of her view. Suddenly, Fiona felt disastrously foolish in thinking she would be able to talk her way out of this without suffering dire consequences.
“Wh-what do you want?” she finally managed to stammer out.
“You know what I fucking want,” he said brusquely. “Where’s your brother going?”
“I don’t know,” Fiona said, far too quickly.
“What do you think, Vlad? Do you believe her?” Alexei said, speaking to the man who had appeared in the doorway behind Fiona.
Vlad stepped forward to stand next to Alexei. Fiona noticed he had a bad patch of road rash on his cheekbone, marring his porcelain skin. She mentally cringed, knowing she was probably going to pay for that, despite the fact that it was technically Niko who had knocked him down. Fiona doubted the man would see the difference.
Vlad turned his black eyes to Fiona. He seemed to delight in seeing her on her knees. “I think she’s a lying little bitch. Tell us where he is,” he commanded her.
Fiona said nothing.
Vlad let out an impatient sigh, softly tapping his shoes on the tile floor. Alexei reached one arm forward and, holding the gun in the other, grabbed Fiona by the wrist, physically dragging her to the living room as she vainly struggled against him. He dropped her, and Fiona pulled up her shirt to see several angry-looking scratches. Vlad may have had road rash, but Fiona’s midsection was covered in carpet burns, which, to be fair, could also sting pretty badly.
Fiona started to sit up, but Alexei kicked her arm out from under her, and she landed hard on her elbow, bruising the bone. “Tell me where Niko is going,” he repeated.
“I told you: I don’t know,” Fiona said through gritted teeth, cradling her arm.
The boot came out of nowhere, hitting Fiona squarely in the stomach. All of the air rushed out of her lungs, and she lay on her back on the floor, her breath hitching in small gasps. Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her cheek to pool in her ears.
Alexei squatted down on his heels next to her. “Do you want to tell me now?” he asked, his cold voice settling on her chest, squeezing out what little breath she had. Even if she could speak, she would have said nothing.
Alexei waited a minute for her to catch her breath, but he quickly realized she wasn’t going to talk no matter how much time he gave her. He stood up, circled around and kicked Fiona twice in the back.
She cried out, pain racing down every nerve in her body. He pulled out his gun and shoved it in her face, but Fiona refused to flinch. She forced herself to raise her blue eyes to match his and stare him down.
“This is foolish,” Vlad suddenly said, his oily voice sliding over Fiona. Alexei stepped back to allow Vlad to glide over to her, his long limbs making it appear as though he was almost floating. “Why are you protecting your brother?” Vlad asked her. “He abandoned you here, all alone. He took your car and destroyed your home,” he said, gesturing imperiously to the garage door that lay in the street. “You’ve been cleaning up after him your whole life; don’t let him drag you down with him,” Vlad said pleadingly.
Fiona saw his black eyes gleam with something she very seriously doubted was concern for her well-being. Sizing him up, she pursed her lips, took aim, and spit square in his face.
Vlad immediately transformed from a “caring, nurturing friend” to a rabid animal. He snarled and savagely backhanded her across the face, splitting her lip.
Fiona spit again, this time spraying blood as well as spit.
“Look out there,” Alexei said, grabbing her by her bicep and pointing out the window. Fiona saw the man who had been in the grass earlier—the man she had inadvertently set aflame—still lay there. He hadn’t moved. “You killed one of my men today. You don’t know where your brother is, or you’re not going to tell me. Either way, you have proven yourself to be completely useless. Give me a reason not to kill you now.”
Fiona expected to feel sick when Alexei told her she had killed a man. She had envisioned herself throwing up in shock over the news, irreparably traumatized by what she had done. But what she felt now could be likened to perhaps a small glimmer of pride in having been able to protect her family.
“Did you hear what I said?” Alexei asked, prodding her sharply in the side of the head with the muzzle of his gun.
Fiona snapped out of her reverie. She took a deep, calming breath. She had practiced for this question. Doing her best to ignore the gun, which was still warm from all the recent firings, she answered. “Because right now you’re out at least thirteen thousand dollars, and I can get that for you.”
Alexei watched her, his face unreadable. Vlad was looking at her with a greasy smile that made Fiona want to shower.
“If you had thirteen grand, you would’ve given it to your brother and he would’ve handed it over to me,” Alexei said finally.
“No, no, I have it,” Fiona insisted fervently, “I just need a couple of days to get it.”
Alexei gave her a long look. His eyes flicked to Vlad and he arched an eyebrow at him, flicking his gun in Fiona’s direction.
Vlad stepped forward. “Either women truly are the weaker sex when it comes to the sciences, or your brother failed to properly explain things to you. His debt has a daily interest charge of ten percent, a generous offer,” he explained condescendingly. “If, and that is a very hypothetical if, we were to allow you this extra time to get your money, your brother’s debt would be seventeen thousand dollars, not thirteen thousand.”
“I can get it,” Fiona said without hesitation, trying her hardest to overlook Vlad’s patronizing air and misogynistic undertones.
“Why should we give you this extension? What makes you special?” Alexei said skeptically.
“Well, it’s not really an extension if you told him he had a week to get the money together in the first place,” Fiona shot back, her temper getting the better of her. She was rewarded with a swift kick to the upper thigh. Fiona felt her leg go dead and she toppled onto her side, literally biting her tongue to keep herself from screaming out.
“She’s a spicy little pepper, isn’t she?” Vlad said, grinning wildly. He seemed excited by Fiona’s outburst. His constant mood shifts confused and terrified Fiona, but she supposed perhaps that was the aim.
“You had better watch that attitude. At this point I’m nearly ready to shoot you dead and leave you here for your brother to come back to.” Alexei raised his gun to Fiona’s face once more.
“I’m sorry,” Fiona immediately replied, panting as she tried to push her thick hair out of her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay?”
Alexei gave her a long, hard look. “Not sorry enough,” he decided.
As his fist flew towards her, his huge, platinum, diamond-encrusted watch filling her vision, Fiona wondered if she truly was going to die tonight. Alexei hit her in the side, and she thought she heard something crack. This time, there was no stifling her cries; she screamed in pain, and her vision instantly began to tunnel and darken. She was going to pass out.
Alexei squatted down next to her again, Vlad standing just behind him. “Bring Niko back in four days’ time with the seventeen thousand he owes. You do that, and maybe I don’t bring you back to the club as a new toy for the boys,” Alexei said before standing up to leave. He stopped abruptly and turned back to her. “The money that you supposedly say you can get? I hope it’s not far. Because you’re not allowed to leave town, understand?”
Vlad bent down and gently brushed a lock of Fiona’s hair out of her face. She was fading fast. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear, “You’ve got a lot of fight in you, Fiona. It almost makes me hope Niko doesn’t return.” He smiled, and his black eyes were the last thing Fiona saw before she finally fell unconscious.
***
Fiona woke up with a gasp, letting out a soft cry. Her side was screaming in agony. She looked around the house. It was a little hard to tell, since the place had already suffered major damage, but it looked as though someone had trashed the place while she was passed out. The coffee table was smashed, and they had thrown all of the food from the kitchen onto the floor.
She slowly tried to sit up. It took her the better part of a minute to get to her feet. She cringed as the night’s events came back to her. How was she going to get the money from their father if she wasn’t allowed to leave town? There was no way Nathan would ever make the trip out—Fiona might have been able to lie or guilt him into giving them the money if she were right in front of him, but getting him to care enough to make an eight-hour ride to Chicago? Never gonna happen.
Even worse, now that Niko had taken off in her car, Fiona had to figure out how to make an extra four grand to replace the money she had been expecting to get from the car.
She only had one option left, it seemed. Ace. How the hell am I supposed to get a gang leader to help me? One who is a complete stranger, to boot, Fiona wondered. They had no money, nothing of any value. Borrowing the money from Ace would most likely mean they would just end up in this same situation in six months’ time, except instead of being tortured and killed by a Russian mobster, she could be tortured and killed by a fat, unwashed biker.
She needed to figure out something else, but nothing was coming to her. Her brain was completely tapped of ideas. It ran sluggishly, endlessly repeating one question: how was she going to convince Ace to take care of Alexei for her? Fiona kicked her leg out in frustration, striking a cupboard door. Pain shot up her leg where Alexei had kicked her, and bled into her side. She bit her lip against the hurt.
Suddenly, Fiona’s eyes flew open. Melanie. If Fiona knew anyone who knew anything about bikers, it would be Melanie. Fiona scrambled over to her phone as fast as she could. Thankfully, it had withstood most of the damage Alexei and his men had done to the place, and there was only a small crack in the screen. Fiona quickly dialed Melanie’s number.
“Hello?” Melanie said groggily, finally answering after what seemed like an eternity.
“Melanie!” Fiona cried. “Thank god you answered. I need your help.”
Fiona heard Melanie fumbling around in the background. “It’s two in the fucking morning, Fiona. What could you possibly need my help with?” In a quieter voice, away from the phone, Melanie told someone to go back to sleep.
“Please, Melanie, just know it’s important,” she pleaded.
“Okay, okay,” Melanie grumbled. “I’ll be right over once I get rid of this guy.”
Fiona hung up and looked around her place. Was there any point in trying to clean up before Melanie came over? She tried to bend over and put her standing plant upright, and her ribs felt like they were on fire, so she quickly stopped, dropping the plant back down to the ground.
She fell onto the sofa, and a million little bits of fluff flew into the air, shooting out from the two or three dozen bullet holes that peppered the couch. Fiona dozed fitfully until she heard a car pull up. She sat up, ignoring the pain as best she could, then gently laid back down when she realized it was Melanie.
“The door is open,” she called, hearing Melanie walk up the drive. It was pretty easy to hear everything due to all of the front windows being shot out.
Melanie entered slowly, astonishment written all over her face. “What the goddamn fucking hell happened here, Fiona?” she cried. Seeing her friend on the couch, she rushed over, trembling when she saw Fiona’s bruises. “Oh my god! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Fiona told her, wincing as she sat up again.
“You are clearly not fine,” Melanie said, watching Fiona struggle. “You need to go to the hospital.”
Fiona shook her head furiously. “No. No hospitals. It’s okay. I got off light, relatively speaking.” She looked out the window and noticed the dead man in the street was now gone.
Melanie looked at her. “Light? You’re telling me that whatever happened here,” she said, gesturing around her, “you got off light?”
“That’s what I’m telling you,” Fiona said firmly.
“Then you’d better fucking tell me what happened,” Melanie said. “Now. Or I’m calling you an ambulance.”
“Please don’t do that,” Fiona begged her. “I’ll tell you, just…let me catch my breath for a minute.” Everything had happened so fast, it was difficult for Fiona to put it together chronologically.
Finally, she cleared her throat and gave Melanie the long and short of it, trying to downplay her brother’s role in the situation as much as possible. She didn’t want another lecture from Melanie about how Niko was bad news.
“So, you want to walk into the home of the second baddest guy in town, empty-handed, and ask him to take out the first baddest guy in town as what? A favor to you and your idiot brother?” Melanie said sarcastically. “Is that it? Do I have the gist? Are you fucking crazy?”
“Hey!” Fiona snapped, tired of being attacked for her risky plans. “If you have a few grand lying around that you’d like to donate to the cause, or an idea, you should have said something. Otherwise, maybe stop being so goddamn critical and help me!” Pain stabbed at Fiona’s ribs as she yelled. She winced, holding her side.
Melanie sat next to her on the couch, quiet. “Okay, no,” she admitted. “I don’t have any better suggestions, and I’m broke as fuck. So how can I help?”
Fiona bit her lip, thinking hard. “I don’t know,” she confessed, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Melanie! I can’t think of anything! How can I convince this guy to help me?”
“It’s all right,” Melanie said soothingly, hugging Fiona gently, taking care of her injuries. “We’ll come up with something together, okay? If nothing else, I’ll be right there by your side when you walk into the lion’s den.”
Fiona sobbed into her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so scared, Melanie. They’re going to kill us.”
“Hey,” Melanie said, reaching down to pick up a towel scrap that was on the floor, using it to wipe Fiona’s tears. “That’s not going to happen. We are going to figure this out.”
Melanie stood up, holding both of her hands out to Fiona. “Come on. I think I have an idea. But first, we need to clean you up.”
Fiona took Melanie’s hands, gingerly pulling herself up. Melanie helped her to the bathroom and cleaned her cuts as best she could. Fiona had a split lip, and what looked like the beginnings of a black eye, as well as an impressive array of bruises that covered her midsection. The spot where Alexei had kicked her in the ribs was already turning black.
“I’m really worried that you have internal bleeding,” Melanie said.
“You’re wasting your breath,” Fiona told her as Melanie dabbed hydrogen peroxide on her cuts. “The hospital is going to ask too many questions. They’re going to get the police involved, and I already told you why that can’t happen.”
“Okay, okay,” Melanie muttered. “No hospital. But if you pass out, I will call an ambulance. There,” she said, stepping away from Fiona, “you’re all patched up. Excluding your fractured rib and probable concussion, of course,” Melanie added mockingly.
“Thanks, Melanie. I feel better already,” Fiona said, smiling gratefully at her friend. “So, what’s your idea?”
“It depends,” Melanie said, looking Fiona up and down. “How much leather do you own?”