War (Romanian Mob Chronicles Book 5) (6 page)

I didn’t look back at the police station, and instead made my way home, wondering what had happened.

Yes, it had been Tiffany’s idea that I go there, but it had ultimately been my decision, and I had been intent on telling them everything.

Yet…I hadn’t.

I hadn’t told them about Priest. Hadn’t breathed a word. I didn’t know why.

The lead-up had been easy, telling them how I was covering for a friend, describing what I could remember of the people at the wedding. All of those facts had come out easily, as had the part about driving away. But when it had been time to tell them about my unexpected and uninvited passenger, I had clammed up.

Maybe it was a burning desire not to be complicit in whatever crimes Priest had committed that day, the crimes he had undoubtedly committed before.

Or maybe I was just afraid.

That was it, I decided.

Priest knew my name, had been in my home. And he was dangerous, so I knew that even without that information, finding me would be no problem for him.

Staying quiet about seeing him was simply a precautionary measure, a way of protecting myself as best I could in this situation.

I told myself that over and over again, and prayed that if I repeated it enough, my mind might eventually believe it. My gut, my heart, however, would not be so easily convinced.

P
riest

T
he ride passed
in grim silence, the tension in the car thick. I wouldn’t let it rattle me, but I was surprised as the vehicle came to a stop at its destination.

I’d expected the rail yard, maybe the basement of an abandoned building. Not the large, opulent mansion we’d stopped at.

Ioan opened the door and gestured I get out, his weapon nowhere in sight. He didn’t need one. Untrained eyes would miss them, but mine didn’t. Two on the roof, two on either side of the house.

Even if I made a move, I wouldn’t get beyond a half a block.

Not that I intended to, something I’d thought Vasile would know. But he’d had a difficult couple of days and wouldn’t make any mistakes or spare any pity, something I needed to remember.

I walked up the driveway and into the house, taking note of everything as I passed through the foyer.

“Here,” Ioan said.

I turned in the direction he was pointing and entered a family room.

It really was just that, a room for family. I could see that in every inch of it, children’s toys strewn in one corner, a magazine and coaster on the coffee table. I’d only seen such things on television, but even I recognized this for what it was.

A place of life, a home.

And in the middle of it sat Vasile Petran.

I’d never been in his home, but for some reason he fit. Here, among the minutiae of family life, he seemed to be where he was supposed to be. I hadn’t believed the kind of life he was attempting to build was possible, but seeing his home was proof that it could be.

And the violence that had marred his wedding proved how fleeting and fragile that life was.

Vasile knew that as well, and though he was expressionless, his face giving away nothing, I didn’t doubt that.

I’d expected at least anger, but then, his calm shouldn’t surprise me. Vasile kept tight rein on his emotions, no more so than when his family was in danger. That he was doing so now did not bode well for me.

He stood and I watched as he dropped something to the floor next to him. A child’s toy, a teddy bear. I hadn’t noticed it before, but seeing it discarded only emphasized to me what had been at stake for him. What had almost been lost.

“Your family? They are okay?” I asked.

Vasile didn’t respond and instead stepped closer, and then closer. I kept my hands away from my body, my gaze locked to his as he got within striking distance.

His punch came lightning-fast and so hard, my teeth felt as if they rattled in my mouth. My head snapped back, and for a moment I was stunned.

“Are you trying to provoke me, Priest?” he asked.

The expressionless face of the moments ago was gone, and now his features were twisted with rage. He looked as if he wanted to rip me limb from limb, something I didn’t doubt his capacity to do.

I kept my eyes on him, though, stood straight and faced him.

“No, Vasile. I’m not trying to provoke you. I was simply asking about your family’s well-being,” I said, ignoring the low throb that still pulsed in my jaw.

“You care?” he asked, his disbelief as apparent as his rage.

“As much as I can,” I said.

His eyes flashed and he clenched his teeth tight.

I’d told the truth, and since I was still alive and not currently being pummeled, that seemed to have been the correct move. Most would have come with apologies, made a great show of concern for the women and children, but from me, such words would have rung false. My reputation, lack of true connections, had me on unstable ground, and I couldn’t afford the kind of slip-up that dishonestly might bring.

“An honest answer,” Vasile said. “Or perhaps a fishing expedition? Your attempt to find out if you were successful, to find out if they are dead?”

The edge in his voice was one I hadn’t heard before, and if I had ever doubted the importance of my answer, I wouldn’t now.

I shook my head. “No. I would not want harm to come to any of those you love,” I said.

“Then why was there a shooting at my wedding, Priest? Why were bullets flying past my wife’s and daughter’s heads!”

With each word, his rage seemed to intensify, and by the time he finished, he looked on the verge of exploding and wrecking anything in his path.

“I don’t know, Vasile,” I said.

He laughed, the sound humorless and sinister. “You don’t know, eh? I thought information was your business,” he said.

I’d done my best to cultivate that aura, had worked tirelessly to know as much as I possibly could. That information was my leverage and I painstakingly gathered it, but even I didn’t know everything, couldn’t. Vasile didn’t believe I did either, but he was using my strengths against me.

“I had nothing to do with the shooting,” I said, deciding to cut to the chase.

“And why should I believe you?” he asked.

“Because you know I have nothing to gain.”

“You said a similar thing before, Priest. Yet trouble seems to keep showing up at my door,” he said.

“Maybe someone is trying to convince you it’s me,” I said.

“That’s an option. But there’s another, much more reasonable option,” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“This is your play. You come after me. After my family.” He said the last with steel in his voice. “You know I’d respond to that, take out any and everyone who would dare attempt to harm them. You know I’d go to war, and after I’ve killed everyone and then been killed myself, you’d step in, take over the business and whatever is left of the clans. You’d have a clear path and be able to take everything for yourself.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Emotion aside, Vasile wasn’t stupid, and only a stupid man would believe I’d go to such lengths to take something I didn’t even want, and only a stupid man would believe I’d have to. Though I couldn’t relate to what he was feeling, I knew that Vasile’s emotions, his worry for his family, were clouding his judgment. But even judgment-clouded Vasile wouldn’t believe the plan he’d laid out.

At least I hoped.

“You’re telling me what I believe, Priest?”

“I’m telling you you don’t believe that. You know I have no interest, and if I did, there’ve been times, many, when I could’ve made my move. I haven’t because I don’t want it.”

And I didn’t. I’d already left behind a life like Vasile had described. I hadn’t wanted it then, didn’t want it now. No, clans weren’t for me; soldiers weren’t for me. I worked best alone, and I doubted that would ever change.

“There is something else to consider,” I said.

“Tell me,” he replied.

I paused a moment, knowing my next words might be the ones that pushed him too far but still certain that truth was the only way.

“If I had decided to attack you or anyone else, I would have been successful,” I said.

His expression turned stormy again, a result I’d expected. But I was gambling on Vasile’s wisdom, hopeful he could see past the anger, the insult, to the truth.

“So that’s your explanation, your defense? You’re saying that if you had been involved, they would be dead.”

“Was anyone hit?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “One of Anton’s men took some debris in his shoulder, and there was a broken leg. The fucks nearly trampled each other trying to get away, but no one was shot.”

“I’m not that sloppy,” I said.

“But you are that calculating, Priest. You’d use the shooting as a cover, get everyone all lathered up and ready to go to war.”

“I may be that calculating, but I’m not that patient, and subtlety has never been my style. If I wanted to come for you, I would. I wouldn’t need to use women and children as cover,” I said.

The air was electric with tension, but despite the heavy atmosphere, Vasile gave me what I could only call a smile.

“Your directness is one of the only things that has allowed me to tolerate you for so long,” he said.

And like that, some of the tension in the room receded. He’d let me live long enough to offer an explanation, and I’d managed to convince him of my innocence.

“So what’s behind this? If you don’t know, you have a theory,” he said.

“I do,” I replied.

While Milan had slept, I’d puzzled over my predicament, and even with the limited information I had, I’d come to one inescapable conclusion. When I looked at Vasile again, he gave voice to what was not an obvious truth.

“Someone’s setting you up,” he said flatly.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Who?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Not yet,” I said.

Most—all—of my relationships were transactions. I supplied what people sought, they gave me money and information in exchange. It was a clean business, a simple one that wasn’t burdened by the rules and structure that were so much a part of life among not just the Romanians, but others as well.

I gave enough respect that those I did business with didn’t take offense or allow hurt feelings to interfere with the work, but I knew others didn’t take such an enlightened approach. I also knew that despite my complete disinterest, many hated me, and probably for good reason. I wasn’t so detached I was unaware of how what was a simple transaction to me might be life or death or the loss of a valued position to another.

So yes, there were people who would revel in my downfall, those who would do anything in their power to see it brought about.

Power, though, was the very question that vexed me.

Because while I had my enemies, none that I could think of had the combination of influence and bravery that it would take to attempt this course of action and bear the risk of both Vasile’s and my own wrath. Such a person or group would have been at the top of my mind, especially after the shooting.

There was only one organization that had the will and resources to attempt such a thing, but unless something had drastically changed, the Syndicate wasn’t after me. Which left a mystery.

I fucking hated mysteries.

“My sources at the police say there’s a bounty on witnesses,” Vasile said.

Without realizing it, I’d looked away, so I looked at him again, his words turning my mind from my own predicament, at least for a moment.

“A bounty? Information or bodies?” I asked.

It could go either way. Someone might be looking for information about the witnesses and what they’d said, a chance to remind them that saying anything further might be detrimental. Others were more aggressive and had no interest in what a witness had said or might say in the future, only concerned with making sure they were silenced permanently.

“Information,” he said.

Uncontrolled, my thoughts immediately went to Milan. Those seeking information were less of a concern, but I knew how this went, knew that bounties could shift in an instant, those “conversations” becoming more unpleasant than was probably intended.

Just as quickly, I pushed those thoughts away. Milan hadn’t gone to the police, at least she hadn’t anytime soon after I’d left. Even if she did, she’d be fine. There was no reason to think she was anything more than a person who’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time. No one would bother digging too deep into her story.

She would be fine. She would be, and I’d tell myself that as long as it took to believe it.

I shouldn’t have spared her a second thought. Still, she’d been tough in a scary situation and that had earned my admiration, so I wasn’t particularly keen on seeing her suffer. That was the extent of it. At least that was what I told myself.

“Are you going to be involved?” I asked, turning back to the business at hand.

He shook his head. “I’ll pull the men I have looking for you off the street and ask Anton to do the same.”

A huge favor to me. At least I wouldn’t have the added burden of trying to avoid Vasile’s men as I got to the bottom of this.

“So you are business as usual?” I said to Vasile.

“Not entirely. A few more enterprising souls thought yesterday would be a time to cross me,” he said.

“Something I’m sure you will make them regret,” I replied.

He nodded. “Once I’ve made that point, I’m going to take a trip. My wife has never seen the ocean,” he said.

For a split second, I saw a glimpse of the love he felt for his woman, his family, and for an even shorter moment, I envied him.

But both passed, and in the next blink, he was again business. “What will you do?” he asked.

I spared not a single breath’s pause to give my response. “I’m going to find out who’s setting me up, and then I’m going to kill him.”

M
ilan

I
thought
I might cry with relief when I turned the corner that led to my house, and tears did start to well up when I saw my car parked at the curb, or rather, near the curb since Tiffany had never quite grasped the finer points of parallel parking.

Damn near skipping, I made my way to the front door, key already in hand. I unlocked the door, entered and then engaged the chain after I closed it.

Once I was safely locked inside, I slumped against the door, relieved to finally be home, ready to put this nightmare behind me. My gaze went to the corner where Priest had stood for so many hours, the spot where he had sat, and for a brief moment, I was transported back to last night and this morning, remembering him in my home, remembering his lips brushing against mine.

My body started to respond, the stir low in my belly now having everything to do with the man and nothing to do with fear or nerves. I stayed in that moment, letting myself imagine what it would have been like had we met under different circumstances. Would whatever the draw was between us have existed, or would it have been nothing?

Probably nothing. I’d have been working some event he was attending and he would have overlooked me completely. That sobering thought was enough to make me lift eyes I hadn’t realized I’d closed and push away from the door.

Yesterday had been an aberration, a hiccup, a weird little detour I’d one day tell my two sons and daughter about over Sunday dinner.

But it was over now, and it was time for me to get back to my life, back to building the dream fund, back to my real life.

Moving deeper into the house, I flipped on a lamp, noticing for the first time how quiet it was, how unlike Tiffany, who had been noisy the entire time I’d known her.

I stopped short in the hallway, a chill coming over me.

It wasn’t so much that Tiffany chose not to be quiet; she just couldn’t be. It wasn’t in her nature, but our entire house was still, silent in a way so unlike her that were it not for the items inside, things that I knew belonged to us, I wouldn’t have believed it was our home.

My heart was racing now, but my lungs were tight and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I started moving again, though, talking to myself with each step.

She’d had a busy night, so maybe she’d gone to bed early. Or maybe she’d been worried and decided to take a walk around the block to clear her head.

Either option was plausible, especially if I ignored the fact that both of us were night owls, a side effect of our crazy hours. Or if I ignored the fact that Tiffany would rather take a five-minute drive than a two-minute walk.

Still, I ignored all the things I knew about her and clung to those options because the others, those tantalizing whispers of suspicion and worry that grew ever louder with each step I took, were ones I couldn’t believe.

“Tiff?” I called out in the thick silence.

There was no response.

I’d reached her bedroom door, and for a moment I stood, not moving, not breathing, just waiting, hoping for movement, for sound, anything.

There was nothing.

The fear I’d felt last night was nothing compared to how I felt now, and as I reached up and turned her doorknob, I felt almost outside of myself, like I was watching a movie, because this couldn’t be happening. Not to Tiffany.

I pushed the door, the creak of the hinges loud enough to be deafening, but the deafening noise was nothing in the face of the shock that had me rooted to my spot. Shock that grew in my mind, deepened as I peered into the room, and seemed to expand inside me and fill my chest. Shock that twisted into a scream, the physical weight of which was too much to keep inside.

My lips fell open, and my facial muscles twisted and pulled tight as my body went through all the motions of a scream.

But the only sound that came out of my mouth was a low, broken whimper.