Keep: The Wedding: Romanian Mob Chronicles (7 page)

V
asile

A
fter I asked my question
, Fawn had looked away, but I kept her hand and waited.

Touching her, being with her had calmed me, but now that I knew she was okay, the urgent need to punish whoever had taken her was growing ever stronger.

When Fawn met my eyes again, her expression was knowing.

And accepting.

I’d never expected anyone to accept me, never much cared if they did, but I’d come to rely on her acceptance, even if I’d never quite gotten used to needing it. Seeing it now only reminded me of how precious she was, how much I loved her, how empty my life would be without her.

That memory only reinforced the imperative to see justice done. I squeezed her hand, and then she finally spoke.

“I got pulled over,” she said.

“I was told. Why did you warn Ioan away?” I asked.

My voice was coarser than I’d intended, but had she not interfered, none of this would have happened.

Her eyes widened, but she shook her head emphatically. “I had to stop him. I knew what he would do, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, Fawn.”

My voice was even rougher now, but I didn’t try to control the anger that grew stronger with each moment. She had interfered, put herself at risk, made me think thoughts I had never wanted to contemplate. So I wouldn’t swallow my anger, wouldn’t let her entertain the notion she had been right. Because she hadn’t been. She’d been wrong, so wrong it might have cost her her life.

“But he—”

“Was there to protect you. Something you prevented him from doing. You could have been—”

I stopped short, not able to say the words, but Fawn’s expression told me that she understood the significance of what I had left unsaid.

“What police station did they take you to?” I said, needing to move on.

“They didn’t,” she said, her voice starting out low but growing stronger.

“Where, then?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Not exactly. It was just one man in the car. He drove me pretty far out to a shopping center,” she said.

“He didn’t try to hide where you were going?” I asked.

She shook her head. “He didn’t seem to care. He cuffed my hands. In front,” she added hastily, and it was only then I realized I had tightened my hold on her hand. I loosened my hold and then nodded at her to continue.

“When we stopped, he took me out of the car and—”

“Did he touch you? Harm you?” I asked, meeting her eyes.

Her answer would only change whether the man died slowly or excruciatingly slowly, but I wanted it nonetheless. Needed to know she was okay, that none of the things that had raced through my mind had happened.

She shook her head. “No. But he took me into an office. It was empty. And I just went with him,” she said.

I heard the tremor in her voice and sought to reassure her. “You did as you should have.”

And she had. Her instinct to comply had been the correct one, and I was more grateful than I could say that she hadn’t decided to ignore them in some misguided display of strength. Anyone brazen enough and stupid enough to take her would have no qualms about hurting her.

“What happened then?” I asked.

“We went into an office. There was another man there.”

“Did you know him?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t see him, not really. He was tall, and…”

She shrugged, and I could see that she was starting to fray.

“What happened then, Fawn?”

“He asked questions,” she said.

“Questions like what?”

She’d lowered her head but looked up now and again met my eyes. “Questions about you. Sorin. People that come around. Your…business. But I didn’t say anything, Vasile. Not a word,” she said with earnestness that almost broke my heart.

She’d been in the hands of people who would kill her without a second thought, and her concern had been for me. That humbled me and was a kindness I would see rewarded. I kissed her and then laid her back.

“You should rest now,” I said.

“I’ll try,” she replied.

I held her hand tight. “After this is…handled, we’ll get married,” I said.

Her expression changed, became closed off, and then she shook her head. “No. No, we won’t.”

I studied her face, looking for some insight into what she was thinking, trying to understand why she’d said no, something that proved impossible with the shock and disbelief in my mind. I wanted to push, to press the issue until she changed her mind, but when I looked at her, saw the determination in her face, I said nothing.

She’d been through enough today. She didn’t need me pressuring her, and I was a man, strong enough to handle the hurt her rejection thrust into my heart like a dagger. Besides, I had other, more pressing things to attend to.

So when Fawn squeezed my hand tight, I squeezed it back, and I didn’t let go until she slept.

V
asile

S
orin drove
, and when we arrived, Anton was already there. He’d come alone, which was a sign of respect and a sign he was not involved. I appreciated both sentiments, but signs of respect would not sway me.

“There was trouble?” Anton said when I approached him.

“Do you know anything about it?” I replied.

“Why would I?” he asked, inscrutable as always.

“Your woman, she was there today,” I said.

At the mention of her, some of his distance fell away, and his eyes flashed with anger.

“Vasile, are you suggesting something?” he asked.

“I’m simply stating what happened,” I said. “She was there, and then later there was trouble. Is that a coincidence?”

I knew Anton was smart enough not to believe in those, and he didn’t miss my implication. He stepped closer, close enough I would have pummeled him had he been someone else. He met my eyes, and I could see the anger still glittering in his. Anton was renowned for his calm, but at the mention of his woman, that facade had dropped.

“Would you involve yours in your business? Put her at risk?”

I said nothing, but he gave a slow nod.

“You wouldn’t. I wouldn’t either. So whatever happened, she had nothing to do with that, nor did I. Don’t ever suggest otherwise again,” he said.

“Maybe Priest knows, then,” I said, turning to Priest as he approached.

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together, Vasile. Any reason in particular?” he asked.

I wouldn’t let Priest distract me with what I assumed was his attempt at humor. I couldn’t tell whether he had something to hide or was simply being vague out of habit. I’d have my answers, though. “Were you involved?” I said.

“It seems a lot of effort to take your woman and then let her go. It’s not effort I’m interested in expending,” he said.

“But you know who it was,” I said.

Knowing Priest as I did, I knew he’d heard about this probably as soon as I had and had been equally diligent in trying to determine who had been behind it.

“Not yet, but soon,” Priest said.

When I spoke, my voice burned with anger—and promise of what was to come. “If you find him first, he belongs to me,” I said.

F
awn

W
hen I woke
in the morning, Vasile was not there, but he came home soon after.

“How are you?” he said, tenderly stroking my cheek.

“Fine,” I said.

I reached up and brushed his face as he did mine. “How are you?” I asked, mirroring his question.

“Better,” he said.

Then he held me for long minutes after.

“I have to leave,” he said later.

“I know,” I replied.

“But I’ll be back soon,” he said.

“I know,” I replied again.

For the rest of the day, I busied myself tending to Maria and stopping far too often just to hug her. Still, as busy as I kept myself, I kept replaying the previous day over and over in my mind. But it wasn’t the incident when I’d been cuffed, and questioned by a stranger.

Instead, I kept remembering Vasile’s expression when I’d told him we couldn’t get married.

How stupid I’d been, how childish. He was trying to give me the thing I had wanted most, and I had tossed it away.

For what reason?

To even think it made me cringe with the silliness of it all, but the truth was something I couldn’t ignore. I wanted to be his wife, wanted to have that outward representation of our bond. But as much as I wanted to marry him, it wouldn’t be because I was afraid or because he was.

If he married me, I wanted him to do it because he wanted to, because he loved me. I would tell him so as soon as he came home.

Hours later, deep into the night, he finally did.

I stayed silent as I watched him, recognizing this particular mood. I usually didn’t try to talk to him when he was like this, wired, energy buzzing through him. Despite all that had happened over the last days, my sex went slick with the thought of how he often dispelled that energy.

It should have been embarrassing to enjoy him when I knew the source of that energy was darkness, probably violence, but nonetheless, it still had its effect.

“Vasile,” I whispered.

He paused and then moved toward me, his eyes dark, predatory, his heavy muscles flexing as he removed his clothes.

I sat up and let the sheet fall away from me, still thrilling at the heat in his expression. I had never been gorgeous, and after Maria’s birth, even less so. But I never saw my flaws in his eyes. I only saw love, desire that seemed to grow each day.

When he stood in front of me, I reached for him, let my fingers trail across his hard chest, down his stomach to the silken skin of his cock.

I stroked his shaft and then followed the path I had made with my fingers with my lips. His skin was scorching against my lips, and I kissed him eagerly, desperate for more. When Vasile curled his fingers into my hair, I moaned, stopped moving, and looked up to meet his dark eyes. He gripped his cock at its base and then rubbed his cockhead against my lips.

On instinct, I lapped at the moisture he left behind and smiled when he tightened his hold on my hair. He thrust, bumping my lips with his hardness.

I opened to take him, and he filled my mouth, feeding me his cock and not stopping until he hit the back of my throat. I moaned and then closed my lips around his shaft, stretching wide to take his girth.

Vasile tightened his hold on my hair and then pushed deeper, and then deeper. When he pulled back, I breathed but stayed still. I would take anything Vasile had to give and give him whatever I had, for I knew this was something he needed, and something I could give.

Something he took, moving faster and deeper until my throat was tender, my jaw sore with the effort. But I didn’t give, didn’t move except to rasp my tongue against his cock.

His shaft hardened and his hold on my hair tightened further still. I moaned when the first burst of his cum filled my mouth and then I swallowed, taking every drop.

A hint of sadness stabbed me when he pulled his softened cock from my mouth, but it was chased away when he kissed me and then lay beside me, holding me in his strong arms.

I reached for him, tracing my fingers along his heavy jaw and then across his brows, trying to smooth away the furrow there. I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his, and then pulled back, hoping he could read the emotion in my eyes.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too,” he responded.

I’d never tire of those words from him, and to have him respond so quickly, so wholeheartedly, made me feel more like a special, beloved treasure than I ever had before.

“Last night… I didn’t mean—”

He pressed his lips against mine, cutting off my words. Then he pulled back and stared down at me.

“It doesn’t matter, Fawn. All that matters is that you’re here with me,” he said.

Then he kissed me again, loved me until the only sound in the room was that of our breaths.

V
asile

T
he next day
, I took Sorin and Ioan to meet Priest at the appointed place. I had called in every favor, searched every crevice and hole I could find, but Priest had found the man first. I halfway suspected he’d had him all along and waited to tell me, but I didn’t have any proof of it, and right now, I didn’t care.

Fawn’s abductor was mere feet away, and though I should’ve been nearly uncontrollable with rage, I felt strangely calm. I turned my attention back to Priest, who watched me, waiting.

He’d selected an excellent location, one at the intersection of the highway and railroad tracks. Lots of ambient noise to drown out screams and no reason for anyone to come stumbling along. Just what I’d need for the confrontation to come.

I met Priest’s eye.

“My sources at the police department didn’t have anything on this guy,” I said.

Priest nodded. “Yes. It seems he was freelancing.”

“For whom?” I asked.

Priest lifted one corner of his mouth into something that almost passed for a smile. “I thought I’d leave the opportunity to ask to you,” he said.

I released my own grim smile. This was a conversation I was looking forward to having. I opened the door and entered. The man who sat waiting was in his midforties, seemed in good shape, his salt-and-pepper hair cut short. There was nothing distinct about him but his calm. He sat still, didn’t seem panicked at all, almost as if he had been expecting this and was content about what would soon happen.

As I walked toward the cop, I remembered the other time I had faced a man who had harmed Fawn.

That had been different, emotional. But now, I was detached, ready and intent on inflicting the pain he deserved for what he’d done.

Was my calm, my detachment better for him? I couldn’t yet say, and I had no guarantee that the emotion wouldn’t intensify when I thought of how afraid Fawn must have been.

When I reached the cop, he sat, though he wasn’t bound to the chair. He was not the first, second, or even third person who’d been in this position before me, but he was the calmest I had ever faced. It was admirable in a sad and useless way.

I wondered how long he’d be able to maintain it.

“A Petran?” he asked after a few moments.

I nodded. “Vasile.”

Giving my name was unnecessary. He knew who I was, but it was interesting to watch him for a reaction. There was little to none, and my admiration for him went up. Breaking him was going to be that much more pleasant.

“The leader, then. So you’re smart,” he said.

“But you’re not,” I replied, stating the only logical conclusion. I had no idea what this man wanted, what he’d hoped to gain from taking her, but whatever his calculation had been, it had been fatally flawed.

“Guess not. But I’m smart enough to know what’s going to happen here if you have your way. You’re upset now, and I get that. I really do. That’s not a good enough reason, though. I’m a cop, and your plans for me are going to bring heat you couldn’t begin to dream of down on your head. And hers,” he said.

I ignored the reference to Fawn. It was a transparent ploy to distract me, or maybe an attempt to make me kill him quickly. It wouldn’t work, but I could see the wisdom of his approach. It was smart.

He wasn’t apologizing for what he’d done, but he was offering a different path, a path that would spare him the pain that I would so relish dishing out while making it seem like I was the one who stood to gain.

I moved a little closer, regarded him with open curiosity. “Tell me about it. This heat that will rain on me,” I said.

“People look the other way with your business, but if you kill a cop…” he said, trailing off and leaving it for me to imagine what might happen to me.

“You think you’re going to die?” I said.

The cop laughed. “Yes,” he finally said.

I nodded. “You will.”

That made him blanch just a little but he quickly recovered. “Even with all it’s going to cost you?” he said.

“Yes,” I replied.

He gazed at me, searching my face. “How long until that happens?” he finally asked.

I stepped closer. “That depends entirely on you. Or rather, how you answer my questions,” I said.

“What questions?” he asked.

I moved even closer and then pointed at his unbound left hand. “Is that the one?” I asked.

He furrowed his brow and then looked at me. “The one what?”

“Or is it that one?” I asked, pointing at his right hand.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, his voice rising slightly.

As I spoke, I moved ever closer until I stood directly in front of him, close enough to touch him, which I did. I grabbed his right hand, held it tight and stroked it gently. My touch was an imitation of a lover’s caress, and I smiled big, bright, almost dizzy with the anticipation that now coursed through me.

“I think it was this one,” I finally said, meeting his eye.

He looked completely confused now, and some of the fear that I knew had been building began to show itself. “The one what?” he asked again, his voice rising a pitch.

“The hand you used to touch her,” I said.

My voice didn’t rise, and I didn’t show any of the anger I felt, but he got the message.

“That was—”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by his sharp scream as I twisted his fingers, the sharp crack of the bones breaking sounding loud in the room.

“You were saying?” I asked a moment later after he’d had time to stop screaming.

He looked up at me, his face beginning to sweat, and he tried again. “That was just busi—”

He stopped again, screaming as I pulled his thumb until it broke free of its socket.

Then I let him go and looked back, stared down at the misshapen hand that he would never again be able to use. Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t ever see the outside of this room again.

“Now for my next question,” I said.

V
asile

A
bout an hour later
, I left, and found Priest where he still waited with Ioan and Sorin.

“Did he say anything useful?”

“He said a lot of things. Some of them are useful. Is there something you’d like to tell me, Priest?”

He didn’t react, not that I had expected him to.

“Would you care to be more specific, Vasile?” he said.

“Why don’t you? Our late friend had some very interesting things to say, and for some reason, I think you know all about them,” I said, a few of the pieces starting to click into place.

Priest frowned, but the expression was gone in a split second. I had seen it, though, which gave credence to my suspicion. “Interesting?” he said. “I’m surprised he was coherent. It had to be a stressful time for him.”

I shrugged. “It could have been worse,” I said.

“Undoubtedly. So why, then, are you asking this question?” Priest said.

“Because I’m a fool, and I think you might actually tell me the truth,” I said.

“What makes you think that?” he said.

“Maybe I’m an optimist. Our friend did become quite untethered toward the end, but he kept mentioning one thing,” I said.

“And what was that?” Priest replied.

“The Syndicate.”

Even Priest, with his lack of ties and lack of adherence to any code, his lack of honor, responded to the mention of the Syndicate.

The Syndicate was steeped in mystery, and I knew little about it except that nobody fucked with them and lived. People talked about it, but none of them knew anything, not for sure. I’d always been halfway convinced it was a fairy tale, the underworld equivalent of the boogeyman. Priest’s reaction was changing my perspective. The Syndicate would explain a lot about Priest and how he operated.

“Do you believe him?” Priest finally asked.

“It is difficult to believe a person would lie in circumstances like that,” I said.

“Maybe he was saying whatever he thought you wanted to hear. Maybe he was just trying to make the pain stop,” Priest said.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps there’s something else. So tell me, Priest. Is the Syndicate involved in this?” I asked.

“No.”

He responded immediately and when I looked at him, I saw the complete lack of doubt and complete lack of deception in his face. Priest rarely gave anything away, but there was no question in this.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked.

“Because”—he met my eyes—“if the Syndicate were involved, your woman would be dead.”

I searched his face, wondering if he was an enemy, wondering if he could potentially be a friend. I considered all that had passed, all that he had done with no demand for payment and no obvious benefit to himself. Maybe it was simply a diversion for him. Maybe he was altruistic.

The answer wasn’t apparent, and I knew it wouldn’t become so, not today, maybe not ever. But at least in one thing I knew he spoke the truth. The Syndicate wasn’t involved. So Priest had to be right. Because if he wasn’t, Fawn was still in danger, and I couldn’t contemplate that.

“You need help getting rid of our friend?” Priest asked a moment later.

“No,” I said. “Priest, if there’s trouble, I want to know about it.”

Priest nodded. “If there’s trouble coming, you won’t be able to avoid it.”

V
asile

“
W
e done
?” Sorin asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

It had been a long night, but we’d done what we needed to, and now it was time to go home.

“So we don’t know who he was working for?” Sorin asked.

“No, but we know who he wasn’t working for,” I said.

“You don’t think it was the Syndicate,” he said.

I shook my head. “No. Priest is right. If it was them, we’d know.”

“Yeah, but you know what this means, right?” he said.

“I do,” I replied.

It meant we still had enemies, ones who were daring enough to take Fawn and smart enough to not expose themselves. Which meant it was no one I was familiar with. No, this kind of subtlety was beyond those I had clashed with, so I had to be prepared for anything.

We got into the car, Sorin behind the wheel. But he didn’t move and instead looked at me.

“So what will we do?” Sorin asked.

I glanced at him. “The only thing we can. We’ll be ready for whatever comes next.”