7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Talia

The front door unlocks, and I jump to my feet. "Thank God you're here!" I run over to Sandy and give her a tight hug. "What did you find out?"

"First," Sandy says, pulling out of the hug, "are you okay? Is the baby okay?" She looks me over, her eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm okay. We're okay." Instinctively, I cradle my belly. "But my nerves are shot." Sandy leads me back to the sofa, and we sit down facing each other. She takes a deep breath and pulls her long hair back into a ponytail.

"No one knows anything about the man that got killed. But Dana said two men were asking about you." She sips water from the glass I left on the small coffee table. "She said that one of the men is a real creep, but she didn't tell them anything."

I stand up and start pacing around the small living room. "If they were asking about me, then the killer definitely saw me." A bead of sweat trickles down my back as I nervously chew on my bottom lip. "I knew he saw me. Shit, sis, what do we do now? Do we go to the police?"

Sandy contemplates the idea, pulling a pink pillow across her lap. "I don't know. It's rumored that most of the VIPs are part of mafia families. And we don't know who they know in the police department. If the killer is connected, the cops might be on his side."

She stands up and begins pacing the floor with me. "I think we have to get out of here," she says, sighing heavily. "He's not going to want any witnesses."

"I completely agree. In fact, I already packed my suitcase."

She lets out a dry laugh. "Fight or flight," she says, giving me a hug. "I don't have much cash here. I'll go to the bank and withdraw as much as possible from the ATM. Pack my suitcase, and when I get back, we'll check into a motel until we figure out what to do next. I'll go out the back entrance…just in case."

Giving me a quick hug, she grabs her purse and leaves. Rushing into her bedroom, I pull an old brown suitcase from her closet and filled it with her clothes and toiletries. Halfway through, I hear knocking on the front door. Freezing in place, I hold my breath, trying not to make a sound.

What do I do? I look around Sandy's bedroom for a weapon, and my eyes land on a baseball bat leaning against the dresser. Taking the bat with me, I quietly creep to the front door. The knocking is getting louder now. Holding my breath, I peek through the peephole and see a tall, muscular man with ice-blue eyes and raven-black hair. This can't be happening. It's Aleksandr Avilov. How did he find me? He knocks again, louder and more insistently.

"Sandy," Aleksandr calls out. "I need to speak with you," he says, banging on the door.

I open the door and watch as his eyes go round with shock. "Talia," he says in his sexy Russian accent. "What are you…?" His voice trails off as he looks me over from head to toe.

"Aleksandr. How did you find me?" I ask, gripping the bat in both hands. He's even more handsome than the last time I saw him in San Francisco. His spicy scent of cinnamon and clove sails across the threshold, enveloping me.

His eyes focus on the bat, and his confusion turns into understanding. "You're Sandy's sister," he states matter-of-factly. "You're the waitress." He pushes past me and steps into the apartment, closing the door behind him. " Blyat! "

His blue eyes burn into me as he steps closer. Nervously, I step back with every step he takes forward until I'm boxed in between him and the window. "Why are you here?" he demands.

"What…what do you mean?" I stutter.

Placing his hands on either side of me, he leans in until his nose touches the tip of mine. "Why are you in New York?"

"I moved here a few weeks ago. I needed a change of scenery," I say defensively. It's none of his business what happened with my ex-boyfriend Danny.

"Were you at Echo tonight?" he probes.

"That's none of your business," I snort, pushing him away.

Grabbing my wrist, he pins me against the wall. "My brother is dead," he hisses. "It is very much my business."

I feel the blood drain from my face as the realization hits. The man that got killed…the man I saw get shot…is Aleksandr's brother.

"Oh my God," I whisper. "I'm so sorry. He was your brother." Placing my hand gently on his chest, I see a fleeting glimpse of pain in his eyes before he masks his emotions.

"Mikhail. His name is Mikhail. What do you know? Tell me what happened." He steps away from me, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"I was assigned to work the VIP area. About an hour into my shift, I heard two men arguing in a small room. When I got closer, I could see that the door was cracked open, and a man was pointing a gun at the other man…your brother." I begin rubbing the tattoo on my wrist, wishing Sandy would hurry up and return.

"And? What happened next?" He goes to the window, peeks through the blinds, and then turns his attention back to me.

"They were arguing about money, and then the man shot your brother." A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away. "I could see the shooter looking at me through the crack in the door. I panicked, and then I ran." Choking back a sob, I take a seat on the sofa. "I'm afraid he will find me, so Sandy and I are leaving."

"Do you know who he is?"

"No, I've never seen him before. But I would recognize him again. I'll never forget his face." I take a deep breath and then another.

Before Aleksandr can respond, I hear the doorknob rattle. I look toward the door, and a loud thud makes me jump.

"They're here," he says, looking out the window.

Grabbing my wrist, he pulls me into the bedroom and locks the door behind us. Pulling out his cell phone, he sends a quick text and opens the window leading to the fire escape.

"Wait, what are you doing?" I ask, my voice going up an octave with fear.

"There's too many of them. We have to go." It wasn't a request. He pulls me through the window just as the front door crashes open. "Go!" he yells, pointing at the fire escape. I hear heavy footsteps in the living room as I climb down. Aleksandr is right behind me when a bullet bounces off the metal railing to my left.

"Keep going!" he yells, pulling a gun from his waistband and shooting at the burly man in the window. The bullet hits the glass windowpane as the man steps to the side, hiding himself inside the apartment. A black SUV swerves around the corner just as we reach the sidewalk. "Get in!" he shouts, holding the back passenger door open. I get in and Aleksandr follows.

After catching my breath, I realize I know the driver. It's the blonde-haired man with the coffee-colored eyes who was with Aleksandr in San Francisco. He drives the SUV around the corner before I realize we're leaving Sandy behind. "Stop!" I screech. "You have to stop!"

"Are you hurt?" Aleksandr grabs me by the shoulders, checking for a wound.

"We can't leave Sandy!" I screech.

"Dimitri, pull over. Where is Sandy?" Aleksandr insists, pushing loose strands of hair away from my face.

"She went to the bank to get money. She's coming back, and we're supposed to go to a motel. I can't leave her!"

Aleksandr says something to Dimitri in Russian. Dimitri nods and gets out of the SUV.

"What's happening? What are you doing?" I ask, exasperated.

"Dimitri will wait here for Sandy. You and I will go to my estate, where you will be safe."

Before I can react, he gets into the driver's seat. The SUV's tires screech on the black asphalt as it speeds away.