Realizing she needed me to be strong, I kissed her tenderly and then cupped her face. "I will get your brother back."
"How? Step, these people are dangerous."
"So are
my
people." I kissed her again. "We need to get dressed."
"Why? Where are we going?"
"To see my cousin."
Half an hour later, I glanced at Jem who sat stoically but teary-eyed in the passenger seat as I navigated the stately streets of Houston's oldest and wealthiest enclave in my matte black '60 Coupe de Ville. The estates here were owned by the most powerful people in the city, but I only cared about one of them—Nikolai Kalasnikov, the unacknowledged Russian mob boss and the most dangerous man in the city's underworld. If anyone could help us right now, it was Nikolai.
Luckily for me, Ten was working for the boss as a bodyguard for Vivian Kalasnikov, Nikolai's beloved wife. When we pulled up in front of the house and parked, Jem glanced at me with such anxiety. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do? What about the police?"
"The police are the last people you want to involve." I could see that she understood that, but she was so desperate to save her brother that she would try anything.
Gripping the door handle, she asked, "What is he going to want for payment?"
I leaned over and kissed her temple. "Let me worry about that."
"Step," she said quickly. "You can't get yourself into debt for me."
"I can, and I will."
"Why?" She seemed bewildered by my decision to help her.
Now I was the one feeling anxious. "You know why."
The fear in her eyes faded, and she covered my hand with hers. "Yes, I do."
I interlaced our fingers. "Let me do the talking. This will be a tricky situation to navigate."
She nodded dutifully. "I understand."
Hand in hand, we made our way up the cobblestone sidewalk that led to a beautiful front porch and ornately carved wooden doors. The historic home had been carefully restored and was the jewel of the neighborhood. I had heard that Nikolai had even more beautiful gardens out back, but I wasn't close enough to his inner circle to have ever gotten an invitation. Right now, I was breaking a big rule coming to his house, but I didn't have any other choice.
Someone had decorated the porch for fall and Halloween with pumpkin displays and planters overflowing with burgundy and orange mums. A whimsical wreath featuring black ravens and what appeared to be pages from Poe's book adorned the grand door. I rang the doorbell and stepped back, making sure I was clearly visible through the glass. I doubted very many people were stupid or brave enough to walk up to this front door and knock.
The door opened a short time later, and I found myself staring down into the strikingly beautiful face of an obviously pregnant woman. With her dark hair in a high ponytail, Vivian Kalsnikov wore a simple dress in a color that reminded me of grapefruit. As expected of a perfect little mob wife, she looked primped and ready for a day of shopping or running errands. I couldn’t imagine the weight of all the responsibilities and expectations resting on her slim shoulders.
I greeted her in Russian, and she returned it with a smile. I started to tell her my name, but she waved her hand and addressed me in English.
"You're Stepan, Ten's cousin. The big rock star," she added with a grin. "And who is this?" Her smile faded when she noticed Jem's red eyes and the obvious signs of crying. "Oh my goodness! What's wrong?"
"We need to speak with your husband."
"Of course," Vivian said and gestured for us to come inside. She shut the door and rubbed Jem's back. "I don’t know what's happened, but if there is any way for my husband to help you, he will." She motioned for us to follow. "This way, please. Kolya and Ten are in the library."
So lost in her fear and worry for her brother, Jem seemed oblivious to the bodyguards eyeing us from the shadows of the house. I spotted a man younger than Jem and a man closer to my age lurking in doorways and following our every move. I tried not to let it bother me. The sort of danger that lurked outside the Kalasnikov's front door wasn't anything I could ever understand.
Vivian knocked on the door of the library and poked her head inside. She spoke softly to her husband in Russian, but it was Ten who yanked the door open and greeted us first. My cousin wrapped me up in his massive arms and lifted me off the ground in a bear hug that squeezed the air right out of my lungs.
"Why didn’t you call me? You should have told me you were coming over. I would have been waiting for you." Ten gripped the back of my neck and grinned at me. His gaze slid to my left and settled on Jem's petite form. "And who is this?"
"This is my girlfriend, Jem." I stepped forward and lowered my voice. "We need your help."
Ten's pleased grin collapsed. He glanced from me to Jem and back to me. "I see."
"Jem?" Vivian stepped in and took charge. "Why don't you come with me? We'll have a cup of tea while they sort this out, okay?"
Jem shot me a questioning glance, and I nodded at her. She reluctantly let go of my hand and followed Vivian away from the library. Assured that she was safe here, I trailed Ten into the library. The door was shut behind me, and I found myself face-to-face with the man who held Benji's life in his hands.
Though not as tall or muscular as Ten, Nikolai presented an imposing picture. With his arms crossed, he leaned back against his desk and exuded an air of pure danger. This wasn't a man to be crossed. Whatever he asked of me, I had to be sure I could repay the debt—or else he would find a way to collect that I would not enjoy.
"Nikolai Nikolayevich," I greeted with respect. Though the man was known to be an orphan, it was assumed by everyone that his father had shared his same first name.
"Stepan," he said stiffly. "It's been a while."
"Yes."
The mob boss studied me intently. "You typically come pay your respects at Samovar. If you're coming to my front door…"
"I'm sorry. There was no time to do it properly."
Nikolai exhaled roughly. "What's happened?"
"My girlfriend's brother was just kidnapped by a bunch of meth heads. He's just a kid. I didn't know where else to go."
Nikolai stiffened. "Have you called the police?"
"No."
"Good."
"What's your girlfriend's connection to this mess?" Nikolai narrowed his eyes. "Is she a user?"
I shook my head. "It's her stepfather. He's not in the picture. She has custody of her little brother. The dad split town years ago, after the mom went to prison, but he's back now. She said that her landlord stopped her this morning to give her a heads-up that her stepfather was up to no good. Apparently, he robbed a bunch of meth heads."
"Who is her landlord?"
"Spider."
"I see." Nikolai's mouth settled into a tight line. "What is the stepfather's name?"
"Jackie."
Nikolai shrugged. "I don't know him." He glanced at Ten who shook his head. "Get Ilya. He knows everyone."
Ten left the room, and Nikolai stared at me for an uncomfortably long moment. "This girl of yours?"
"Yes?"
"You care about her?"
"I do."
"Does she know how to keep quiet? Because you know how I feel about loose ends," the boss warned.
Mouth dry, I nodded. "I do."
The door opened and Ten returned with Ilya. Once it was closed, Nikolai asked, "Jackie? A meth head? Dealer?"
Ilya nodded. "Yeah, he's from the Bloody Nick. He used to run product for Nickel Jackson, but he's been out of that crew for years. He has no protection. He has no backup. He's a freelancer and small time."
Nikolai nodded. "That's one less complication."
"Boss?" Ilya said hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"Stepan's girl? This Jemima?"
"What about her?" Nikolai asked, and my stomach clenched painfully as I waited to hear what would be said. Maybe coming here was a mistake. If she had some history with the family that I didn't know about…
"Her father was Crazy Kenny Coates."
Nikolai's face slackened. "Is Boychenko with Vivian?"
Ilya nodded. "I told him to stay close, just in case."
"Just in case
what
?" The fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rose on end. "Are you threatening Jem?"
"No." Nikolai spread his hands out in front of him. His calmness terrified me. This was a man who could shake your hand and smile—all while knowing a hit had been greenlit on your ass. "Your girl is safe in my home and in my city."
"But?" I knew there was more to this story, and I wanted the details now.
"Has she told you anything about her father?"
"She said he was killed by the cartel. She said that no one was ever arrested. There were no suspects."
Nikolai dragged a finger across his throat in the same way Jemima had done earlier in the day. "There's only one man who used that as his calling card when he was enforcing for the cartel."
The way Nikolai phrased his reply made my heart skip a beat. "Romero Valero? Vivian's father?"
He nodded. "So you understand why I'm concerned about my pregnant wife sitting down for a cup of tea with the daughter of a man killed by her father, yes?"
"Yes."
Nikolai straightened up and walked behind his desk. "What I've just told you? It stays between us. Nothing good will come from telling our women that truth. It's old and dead and buried. Let's leave it where it belongs—six feet underground."
I didn't like it, but I knew what would happen if I ever revealed what I had learned here. Not even my connection to Ten could save me or Jem then.
Nikolai picked pulled a burner phone from a bottom drawer of his desk, powered it up and made a single phone call. I expected him to call Kostya, the notorious cleaner who handled the family's dirty business, but he didn't.
"Mueller," he said with the hint of a smile. "I think we need to meet. I have a proposition for you, and I think you'll find it's something you've wanted for a while now."
I had no idea who this Mueller person was, but I had a bad feeling I was about to find out. The promise I had sworn to my older brother Semyon about staying out of the underworld had just gone up in flames. For Jem, for her brother, I had no other choice but to suck it up and wade back into those murky, dangerous waters.
Chapter Eight
Step
"This shit brings back memories, huh?" Ten asked as we sat in the front seats of a black SUV with darkly tinted windows.
"Not all good ones," I murmured, thinking of the stupid, risky things I had done when I was the same age as Benji. "Who is this Mueller guy?"
Ten pointed to the real estate sign in the front windows of the empty strip mall. "He's a hotshot real estate guy from Dallas, but he has a growing branch down here."
"What does a real estate guy have to do with your world?"
Ten reached for the water bottle in his cup holder and unscrewed the cap. "He likes to keep his white sheets on his bed, but he's the most racist motherfucker you'll ever meet. He runs the skinhead action in Houston now. He's quiet and all about business—and that makes him incredibly dangerous."
Fully aware that Ten's ideal woman was a big, bold black girl, I had an idea of how much he hated working with Mueller. Thinking of Benji, I said, "Jem's brother is half-black."
"And?" Ten shrugged and took a long drink.
"And your boss is asking Mr. White Supremacist to save him?"
"Like I said," Ten replied, "Mueller will do this because Nikolai will offer him exactly what he wants as payment."
"And what is that?"
"The green light to go after the meth trade," Ten explained. "It's the Wild West, but Mueller and his guys want to control it. The boss doesn't want blood in the streets, but this is a controlled way for Mueller and his boys to make a statement. They can get this kid and clean out the rat's nest of dealers and cookers who kidnapped him." He dropped his water bottle into the cup holder. "Everybody wins."
"And a lot of people die!"
Ten shot me a strange look. "
Bratan
, what the fuck did you think was going to happen when you asked a
pakhan
for help?"
He had a point, but it still bothered me. "This isn’t what I wanted."
"You wanted to save your girlfriend's brother. That's what you're doing. Focus on that. Everything else? Push it out of your head."
Knowing what Ten had done in service to the family, I wondered how many times he had given himself a version of that advice. There wasn't any other way he could stomach the things he had done without some sort of mental footlocker where he stowed all those troubling images and memories.
Ten perked up and gestured toward the building with his chin. "Here we go."
I watched Nikolai and Mueller come out of the empty building with two of their heavies standing escort. Kostya paid little attention to the conversation between his boss and Mueller. He scanned the area around us, probably searching for cartel snipers or worse.
It was twilight out, and I could barely make out the shapes and shadows in the parking lot, but I had no doubt that Kostya could see everything. The rumors that swirled around the man suspected of being a former Russian spy claimed that he had all sorts of crazy cyborg-style implants in his brains and eyes. He was no James Bond, but the man was dangerous and ruthless.
"Looks like it's on," Ten said as he put his SUV in drive but kept his foot on the brake. He glanced at me while he waited for the small convoy to move out of the lot. "Whatever happens, you stay close to me. Semyon will gut me if anything happens to you."
He wasn't kidding about my big brother's overprotective streak. It was a trait that had always made me scoff, but now I considered what I was doing for Jem and her brother. Semyon didn't seem so crazy to me anymore.
Mueller and his men pulled out of the lot first. One of Nikolai's other captains followed close behind. Ten and I brought up the rear behind the boss and the cleaner. I didn't ask where we were going. I stayed silent and let Ten get his head straight. This was his world, and I was just the interloper. I didn't want anyone to get hurt, especially not my own family, so I decided not to get in the way, even if that meant keeping silent when I really wanted answers.