Dimitri (22 page)

"I'm sorry." Johnny's whispered apology wasn't
enough but it was a start. "I really screwed this up,
Dimitri."

"Yes, you did."

"I saw the other car too late." Johnny's voice
had a far-off quality. "You were right, man. I should have stayed
inside."

"What happened?" Unlike Benny, he needed to
know every single detail. "Tell me everything. I can't help you and
I sure as hell can't keep Benny safe if you lie to me."

"This upstart crew is trying to push into our
territory. They want to take the whores and the booze and the
cigarettes we run. Our captains told us to go out and be seen.
Street presence, you know?"

Dimitri grunted as he merged onto the
interstate and his truck gained speed. For some reason, these
street gangs wanted to be so damn flash and showy. There was a
reason they had such a hard time rising above their small-time
thievery and whore-running. Running a successful illicit business
took finesse and secrecy, something Johnny and his cohorts
lacked.

What they didn't lack? Violence.

"A white SUV turned down the street, passed
right by us, and then they were shooting at us. The bullets were
tearing through the glass before I even realized what was
happening. I tried to get us out of there but another SUV blocked
me in. I jerked the wheel and took the curb. I didn't make it far
before I slammed into a building. The car caught on fire or maybe
the building was on fire. I don't know." He sounded so confused.
"All I know is I managed to climb out the windshield and get out
through one of the big windows on the side of the
building."

"And you left the car behind? And your
friends?"

"They were dead. Dead!" Scared shitless, Johnny
started to cry. "I couldn't save them."

Dimitri wasn't about to console him. He'd
warned Johnny countless times that this was the life of violence
that awaited him. Now the dumb kid had seen firsthand the kind of
destruction and hell the gang life created.

He sniffed and wiped at his face with the back
of his hand. "Are you really taking me to a doctor?"

Dimitri frowned. "Why the hell would you ask me
that?"

"Maybe you're thinking you can finally get rid
of me and have Benny all to yourself. You just pop me in the back
of the head and tell Benny I died in surgery."

Enraged that Johnny would even suggest
something so dishonorable, Dimitri reached over and slapped the
little bastard on the back of the head. "What do you think I am? A
monster? I've never killed anyone outside the battlefield. I don’t
intend to start with your sorry ass."

"Okay! All right! I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're an ungrateful little shit."
Gritting his teeth, Dimitri fought the urge to smack him again. "Do
you have any idea what I'm risking to help you tonight?
Huh?"

Eventually, Johnny said, "Yes."

"And do you know why I'm doing it?"

"Because you're in love with my
sister."

"Yes. I love Benny. I'll do anything for her,
even if it means getting knee-deep in this Hermanos bullshit you've
stirred up tonight."

"I didn't start this!"

"It doesn't matter, Johnny. You chose to be
part of it. No one put a gun to your head and made you join this
gang. You could have had a different life. You chose this
one."

"I just wanted to belong to
something."

"Now you do belong to something," Dimitri
coldly replied. "You belong to a brotherhood of men who have
watched their friends be gunned down by animals. You belong to a
group of men who get to live every day with the guilt of knowing
that they survived when their friends didn't."

Johnny sank into silence. Dimitri didn't care
if he'd hurt Johnny's feelings. The kid had to learn there were
serious consequences to his stupid choices.

"Did you see the men who shot you?"

"Yes."

"You'd recognize them?"

"Yes."

"When the doctor is done with you, I want their
names. I want their descriptions. I want to know everything you
know about them."

"Why?"

"If I'm going to keep Benny safe, I need all
the intel I can get. You're going to give it to me."

"They won't come after her. She doesn't know
anything."

"And if you're wrong?"

Johnny considered his query. "I'll tell you
everything."

* * *

Kostya wouldn't tell me anything and I hated
it. After Dimitri and Johnny left, he gently prodded me out of the
way and got to work cleaning. I spotted the hastily discarded
clothing on the floor and became so embarrassed. Not only had my
brother seen the evidence of the wild sex I'd had with Dimitri but
now Kostya knew. I hurried to pick up everything and carry it back
to Dimitri's bedroom. I found a pair of shorts with a drawstring
that fit me fairly well. They were too long but I didn't mind. I
just wanted my bottom covered.

The frustratingly silent man brought in a small
red bag from his vehicle. I watched with a mixture of fascination
and horror as he emptied the contents onto the kitchen table.
Gloves, surgical booties, bleach, solvents, paper towels,
microfiber cloths, trash bags, toothbrushes, grout-cleaning
tools—the homemade "cleaning" kit had everything an underworld
soldier might need to make evidence disappear.

Though Dimitri seemed to put a hard wall
between his life and the shadowy, criminal world that Nikolai
inhabited, he obviously knew where to go for help when things got
ugly. Kostya was a mystery to me. I thought he was Ivan's driver
but I wasn't sure. Maybe, like the doctor Dimitri had spoken of,
Kostya worked on Nikolai's payroll.

Down on all fours, Kostya started to mop up my
brother's blood. The sight of the dark, congealed mess made my
stomach pitch. Desperate to do something, I asked, "Can I
help?"

Kostya's gaze jerked to my face. His expression
was almost comical. He shook his head. "This isn't work for pretty,
young girl like you. Go to bed. Let me work."

"Go to bed? Are you crazy? I can't go to sleep.
My brother and the man I love are out there somewhere. They're in a
dangerous situation."

Kostya studied me for a moment. Finally, he
gestured to the box of gloves and booties. "Put those on and come
here."

It was hard, dirty and hot work. I tried not to
think about how Kostya had become so proficient in rendering blood
evidence neutral. The tricks he showed me left me a little cold and
frightened of him.

Would he hurt me? No. Dimitri wouldn't have
left me in this man's care if he was even the slightest bit
unstable. Had he hurt other people? That seemed to be a
certainty.

While I finished the last round of mopping with
a microfiber cloth, Kostya took a black light, cleaning rags and a
spray bottle outside. I could only imagine how much blood Johnny
had dripped on the steps. I was too afraid to poke my head through
the door to watch Kostya work in the dark of night. Instead, I
attacked the bloody smears Dimitri's fingers left behind on the
door and the light fixtures.

When it was done, Kostya rolled out a few feet
of white butcher paper to make a large square and taped it to the
floor in front of the door. He grabbed the package of wet wipes,
gestured me over and pointed to the paper. "Everything
off."

I blinked at him. "What?"

"Take it all off. I leave nothing to
chance."

I hugged my arms across my chest. "I'm not
getting naked in front of you."

He looked taken aback. "No! I didn't mean—I
would never—I'll turn my back."

Kostya spun quickly away from. I hesitated
before doing as instructed. He cleared his throat. "Wipe your feet
and your hands."

Cold and naked, I picked up the wet wipe
package and cleaned my fingers and toes. I dropped the soiled wipes
on the paper. "Now what?"

"Go into the bedroom. Get dressed. Wait until I
tell you it's safe to come out."

I scurried off the crinkly paper and dashed to
the bedroom. I closed the door halfway and hurried to Dimitri's
closet. The sight of the kinky sex swing where he'd ravished me
made my cheeks burn. Had I really done that? The slight ache
between my thighs from being thoroughly fucked by him reminded me
just how good it had been.

I found another shirt and shorts to wear. It
occurred to me that if this staying overnight business was going to
be a regular theme I needed to keep a better selection of clothing
downstairs in my office.

"Benny? You can come out now."

I left the bedroom and discovered Kostya
wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His scrubs were piled on top of the
clothing I'd just removed. Curious, I wondered, "What do you do
with all this when you're done?"

"It's destroyed."

"But why do we have to do all this? I don't
understand the need for such secrecy."

Kostya considered me for a long, uncomfortable
moment. Finally, he asked, "What do you think is going to happen
tomorrow?"

I gulped and shrugged. "I don't
know."

"I do. The cops will be here. They're going to
ask questions. They're going to want to know where you brother has
gone. They're not the only ones who will want to know where he is.
The people who shot him? They'll want to clean up that loose end.
His own gang? They're going to be afraid that he's going to rat
them out."

"But—"

"This is how we make him disappear. He was
never here tonight. He vanishes. It's done."

Kostya's words scared me to death. My heart
leapt into my throat. Vanish? Make him disappear? Surely Dimitri
hadn't meant that he would send Johnny away when he'd promised to
keep him safe. Ivan had managed to keep Erin's sister alive and
safe and in her life. Why shouldn't it be the same for
Johnny?

Deciding that Kostya was crazier than I'd first
suspected, I put some space between us and went into the kitchen.
The biting scent of cleanser burned my nose. Desperate to stay
busy, I opened Dimitri's refrigerator and cabinets and stared at
the contents. The urge to cook or bake something couldn't be
denied.

Kostya slid onto one of the stools at the small
island. "What are you making?"

"I'm not sure yet. Are you hungry?"

"I wouldn't say no to breakfast."

I mentally inventoried the
ingredients on hand. "Do you like
migas
?"

"I don't think I've ever had them."

I gawked at him. "How long have you been in
Texas?"

"Seven years."

"And you've never had
migas
?"

My incredulous tone coaxed a smile from him.
"No, but there's a first time for everything, yes?"

With a nod, I got to work. It didn't
take long to slice and fry up the corn tortilla strips. I cracked
eggs into the heavy cast iron skillet and scrambled them with the
crispy tortilla bits. Dimitri still had half a jar of the delicious
salsa verde Lupe had given out to everyone last week. I'd always
preferred my
migas
with yummy
queso fresco
but Dimitri only had a small block of sharp
cheddar. Either way, they would still be delicious.

I dropped a heaping spoonful of salsa on my
plate but let Kostya decide how much he wanted. Not surprisingly,
he let only the tiniest dribble of the rich, green sauce on his. I
could see the uncertainty on his face as he prepared to take his
first bite. I grinned when I watched surprise and delight color his
expression.

"They're good, right?"

"So good," he agreed and dug into his
late-night snack. "I've always liked breakfast for
dinner."

I chuckled softly and stabbed my fork into the
gooey mess of cheese and salsa and eggs. "This is actually supposed
to be a hangover cure. It's pretty common on the late-night menus
at diners and food trucks around here."

We fell into a comfortable conversation as we
ate. In the back of my mind, constant worry for Dimitri and Johnny
reigned supreme. The sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupted
our chitchat. Kostya flew off his stool and moved to the door. He
looked tense and ready to strike. The door opened—and it was
Dimitri who stepped inside the apartment.

I relaxed at the sight of his handsome face but
my stomach pitched wildly at the sight of so much dried blood on
his hands and clothing. "Oh my God."

His tired gaze met mine. "He's okay, Benny. The
doctor patched him up nicely. He's resting at a safe place. You
don't need to worry. I've taken care of it."

Kostya spoke softly to Dimitri, the Russian
words rushing from his lips so fast they sounded blurred to me.
Dimitri listened and finally nodded. He started to strip out of his
clothing. My eyes widened at the realization he was going to get
naked right there but I remembered what Kostya had said about no
loose ends.