2. Nik

CHAPTER 2

Nik

“What…” Holden’s voice cracks. He clears his throat and tries again, his designer shoes scuffing against the ground as he shuffles closer to me, blinking. “What happens now?”

My irritation makes me want to take things out on him, so I have to bite back my instinctive What the fuck do you care? But Holden seems to understand exactly why I look away from him, his face crumpling as he nods dolefully.

“I know,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “It’s my fault she’s in this mess. I tried to cover up that footage, prevent them from seeing it, but…”

I take in his disheveled appearance, his face creased with stress. First Terry was taken from him, I remind myself. And now Brie. Maybe I don’t think all that much of Holden Brooks, but Brie cares for him. So I guess he’s my responsibility now. My new charge to protect.

Until I get back to her.

“Look, I’m sure you did your best,” I tell him, stilted. I sigh, glancing at the Styx Syndicate women who are conversing together quietly. “You want to know what we do now? We go back to Vegas and we get Brie back.” I keep my voice steady, commanding. Pretend that I’m someone who knows exactly what she’s doing.

“But they’ll kill her!” His hands flutter uselessly at his sides. “You don’t understand. I’ve seen what they do to people who betray the Family. You don’t know what they’re capable of?—”

I grab his arm, yanking him close. “You don’t need to tell me what they’re capable of,” I snap. “I’ve spent my life watching men like them destroy everything they touch. I’ve cleaned up their messes, buried their secrets, protected their power. I know exactly what they can do—and I know Brie is better at this game than all of them.”

Holden cowers away from me, and immediately I hate myself for scaring him. This isn’t who I am anymore—a Consortium attack dog, solving Eva’s problems with intimidation and violence. I’ve spent all this time protecting Brie, watching her fight to be more than what others expected of her…

And I need to do the same. I need to be better than this.

Behind us, I hear Lyssa’s low chuckle of appreciation. “Damn, Kusek. Remind me never to piss you off.”

I release Holden, forcing myself to take a deep breath. I need to think like a protector right now, not a weapon.

“Listen to me,” I say to Holden, gentler now. “Brie is smarter than you’re giving her credit for. She’s a survivor. And right now, she’s counting on us both to help her.” I meet his eyes, willing him to understand. “ She hasn’t given up, so neither can we.”

He smooths his ruined shirt with shaking hands, a self-soothing gesture that seems to calm him slightly. “I want to help her. But if we go back to the casino, the Colombos will grab us too. We’ll all end up dead.”

“That’s not going to happen.” I study his face, seeing the fear threatening to overwhelm him. I know there’s something tough inside him somewhere—I’ve seen it in how he protected Terry’s secrets, how he’s stood up for Brie at times—but right now he’s drowning in panic. And I don’t need a trembling mouse by my side. “Right now, we need somewhere you can work on that video footage,” I explain, trying to be patient. “The casino security room is our best shot, once Brie is free. She owns the Golden Sands, not the Colombos.”

“Not to interrupt,” Lyssa drawls, stepping forward and twirling her car keys, “but we can give you a ride.” A smile plays across her face. “Although someone will have to sit in the back with her .”

Through the car window, I can see Katy bound and glaring, reduced to impotent fury.

“I’ll do it,” Scarlett says. “Nik, you ride in back with us as well. Holden can sit in the front.”

It’s a good idea. I don’t want Holden sitting snug next to a killer, just in case Katy does get free. We all pile in, and Katy starts to intone something about carrying on Grandmother’s vision for a new world order, but Scarlett rummages quickly in a bag behind us in the trunk, coming back with a long sock that she wraps around Katy’s mouth and ties tight.

“Much better,” Lyssa says, and I can’t help agreeing with her.

“Thanks for asking the right questions of Eva Novak,” Scarlett says to me, after we’ve been driving in silence for a while. “Once Lyssa and I are back in Chicago, we’ll have another avenue to consider.”

I lean forward to look at Scarlett past Katy, who glares at me. “You’re still worried about that list?”

“Less worried now we know it’s not a hit list,” Scarlett allows. “ If that’s true.” She shoots a look at Katy, but the gagged woman has now leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed, blocking us out. “But if there are other operatives of Grandmother’s out there like this one…” She thumbs at Katy and pulls her mouth sideways. “We feel obligated to stamp out any fires.”

“Call it our hobby,” Lyssa says from the front seat, her eyes finding mine in the rearview.

Apart from that brief exchange, the drive back to Vegas is tense and silent. Wedged in the back next to a sullen Katy, I find myself watching Holden’s reflection in the passenger-side mirror. He looks exhausted but stressed at the same time, and his leg bounces constantly, fingers drumming against his thigh. Each nervous tic makes me worry more.

If he falls apart, I might lose the best chance I have at clearing Brie’s name, since Holden is the one working on that footage of the corridors near Terry Colombo’s office on the night of his murder. I sigh as I wonder, once again, who might have spliced in that extra footage to make it seem as though Brie was there that night.

None of the three men who spirited her away tonight, that’s for sure. They’re not what I’d call technically savvy. But men like them don’t need to do the work themselves. They hire people—like the hitman who was hired to take out Brie.

Not that he was much good. Struck out twice and then met his maker himself.

The highway stretches endlessly before us like a black ribbon, dotted with the occasional lights of cars heading to or from the city. I glance down at my hands, at the dried blood on my knuckles, and wonder how Brie is doing. And even when Las Vegas finally appears on the horizon in a glow, all I can concentrate on is the darkness building in my heart.

If they’ve hurt her, I will destroy them.

Lyssa, instructed by Holden, takes the backstreets until she pulls up a block away from the casino and kills the engine. The sudden silence feels heavy. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, not sure what else I can offer right now.

“You sure you don’t want backup?” Scarlett asks as I open the door and slide out, and I know the offer is genuine. These women understand decency in a way Eva Novak never will.

I shake my head. “Thanks, but this isn’t your fight.”

“It could be, though.” Lyssa is leaning over the passenger seat, grinning at me, as Holden staggers out. I grab his arm, steadying him as he stumbles slightly on the sidewalk. “I could use a little fun,” she goes on. “A goodbye to Vegas.”

I have to chuckle at that. In another life, Lyssa might have been a good friend. “I appreciate it,” I tell her, “but I don’t want to make trouble for your boss. Right now, there’s no bad blood between the Syndicate and the Colombos, or the Novak Consortium, either. Might be better to keep it that way, especially if you plan on looking into Consortium customers for connections to Grandmother and her operatives.”

Lyssa looks a little disappointed, but nods. “Fine,” she sighs. “Keep all the fun to yourself. Tell Brie we said goodbye, will you? And Juno Bianchi, I guess, if you see her.”

Juno Bianchi. God, I’d forgotten all about her.

“I will,” I promise, and then the Syndicate women are gone with their prize, driving off into the lights of the Strip. Holden is glancing around nervously, and I click in front of his face to get his attention. “Hey. Brooks. What’s the quietest entrance to the casino?”

“I…I guess the hotel’s delivery zone.” His voice is barely a whisper, but at last there’s a thread of certainty in it. This is his territory, after all. “Security’s minimal this time of morning, and deliveries are expected.” Morning? I glance straight up, and see that it’s true—the black of night is giving way to a new dawn. “As for the cameras in the delivery zone…” He swallows hard. “I know their blind spots.”

I keep a grip on his arm as we move through the streets, both for guidance and to prevent him from bolting. “Did Brie get a call through to Juno Bianchi from the safe room?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He’s not even listening to me.

“Listen to me, Holden,” I say, pulling him to a stop as we near the casino. I make sure he’s looking at me, actually focused. “I will keep you safe. That’s not just an empty promise—it’s what I do . And all you need to do is focus on clearing Brie’s name by finding out who’s really in that footage. Can you do that? For Brie?”

Some of the wild panic leaves his eyes. In its place, I see a glimmer of the strength that maybe attracted Terry Colombo, the spine that made him a love match for a Mob Boss. “I can do that,” he says. “For Brie.”

I follow him toward the laundry delivery entrance of the hotel adjoining the casino. Above us, the security cameras sweep their endless arcs, but Holden knows how to time it so we can avoid getting caught. We slip quickly to the back door, which is locked tight, but Holden presses the button next to the intercom. “It’s Holden Brooks,” he says, and something of the imperious tone has entered his voice again. “I’ve been locked out. Someone needs to let me in.” Mere seconds later, the door opens, a scared-looking maid blinking at us.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Brooks,” she says breathlessly, as though she’s the one to blame. He sweeps past her without a word, so I do too, and that’s it.

We’re in.