Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Crow’s face clearly betrays how little he likes it, but he knows I’m right. We don’t have enough men to watch over all the dancers, maintain normal operations, and chase after Andrei.
“I’ll send him over then,” Crow says as he reaches the door. “And Ronan?”
“Aye?”
“Quit sending my wife so many bloody donuts,” he says. “It’s not good for the baby.”
***
After a quick shower, I head off before Sasha can even finish breakfast. I think she’s worked out that something’s not right, but she didn’t ask.
That’s what I like about her. She never pushes me. She lets me do what I have to, and then she waits until the right moment if she has a question. If she thought it was odd that Rory showed up to watch over her, she didn’t say so.
Now Conor and I are in the car, driving to all of Andrei’s usual haunts trying to chase up leads. By lunchtime, we’ve already been shot at twice and nearly stabbed as well. Conor handled himself pretty well, and I told him so. He’s young, but he’s learning fast.
“It seems kind of pointless to go to all the same places he usually hangs out,” Conor notes. “If he’s taunting you, how likely do you think it is that he’s going to be somewhere he knows he can get caught?”
“Do you have a better suggestion?” I clip out.
Conor shrugs and then stares back out the window. “Well if he’s looking for Sasha, I would assume that he’s probably somewhere near her apartment and the club. Even if he isn’t, some of his men would be. Do you know who any of them are?”
His words spark a memory. The familiar face that I couldn’t kill the last time I saw him. The young lad who looked like Alex.
I hit the brakes and turn around, heading towards Sasha’s old apartment. Conor glances at me, and he’s got a stupid grin on his face.
“I said something helpful, didn’t I?”
“Aye, lad,” I tell him. “Ye’re learning.”
For the next three hours, we drive around Sasha’s neighborhood and some of the places near Slainte where they might be hiding out. The problem is that the area has an abundance of seedy places to hide. I never liked that she lived in this neighborhood, but there was little I could do about it.
I don’t think we’re going to find Andrei today, and it grates on my nerves. But then I spot a lad on the corner of Sasha’s apartment building from across the lot where we’re parked. He’s not the same lad who I saw that night, but he’s about the same age. Young, dumb, and obvious as shite.
He keeps glancing over his shoulder as he walks. I count each occurrence, and by the time he reaches the main door, he’s done it six times.
“Him,” I tell Conor.
Conor scrunches up his brows and shakes his head, doubtful. “You think so? He just looks like some young punk to me.”
“Sort of like you,” I remark as I climb out of the car and shut the door behind me.
Conor follows me into the building and we keep a safe distance, stopping on every landing to listen to his footsteps above us. I’m not at all surprised when he stops on Sasha’s floor and turns. His footsteps grow distant as he walks towards her apartment, and that’s when we rush him.
Just as he’s opening up the door, I hit him from behind, holding him in front of me as a shield. But when the door swings open, the only other man inside is taken by surprise. He raises his gun, but my weapon has already discharged and lodged a bullet in his head before he even gets off a shot.
The lad in my arms is shaking now, pissing himself with fear. And I almost feel bad for what I’ll have to do to the young one to get information out of him. Until my gaze swings to the far end of the room, where a girl who looks familiar is cuffed to the radiator.
She’s beaten pretty badly and already has a few slashes over her body that no doubt came from Andrei. He likes to play with his toys before he finally kills them. It’s a long process, and I have to wonder how long he’s been toying with her for. Her face is so swollen I can’t place where I’ve seen her before. But Conor knows. He rushes towards her and kneels down to help her.
“Scarlett?” he whispers. “Is that you?”
She makes a sound somewhere between a moan and agreement.
“She’s handcuffed,” he says, glancing back to me. “Can you pick the lock?”
“Aye,” I tell him. “I could. Or ye could probably just grab the keys from the dead arsehole on the floor just there.”
Conor blinks and then scurries over to the body as I check the hallway and then pull the young lad across the room. Once Conor’s got the cuffs off Scarlett’s hands, I gesture for them and lock them into place on their new prisoner. I can’t torture him here, because I don’t have any of my tools or the things I’d need to keep him quiet. Not to mention that if two of Andrei’s men are here, there are bound to be more on the way. And since I can’t be two places at once, I’ll have to make do.