Chapter 10

TEN

Dimitri

You could have blown me over with a feather when Hollis told me she had a child. She looked like she was in her early twenties, so the child must be small. It hadn't occurred to me that she'd have a life to get back to, that she would have already created another human being she'd be attached to. The thought immediately brought images of her belly rounded with a child. I'm sure she was beautiful.

Olive. A girl .

I listened as she talked to the smart, resilient little thing. Nine years old and already a fighter. Then Hollis fell to absolute pieces after she hung up, crying in great sobs.

"I have to get home. She's alone," she sputtered.

I wasn't sure what was appropriate here. She seemed fragile and traumatized. Would she welcome being comforted? I wasn't sure. Edging closer, I took her hands gently. This wasn't really my area of expertise, comforting people. Give me someone to kill; that was more my thing.

"She sounds like a resourceful little girl," I said. "Tell me about her." There was no reason to know about her, but for some reason, I was curious—a strange emotion.

Hollis arched an eyebrow, a gesture I had always admired for its subtle expressiveness. I always wished my eyebrows would make that motion. "What is it that you want to know? When can I go home? I need to go home." Her voice was plaintive .

"When I'm done with my business, you can go home." I didn't know how long this shit with Makarovich would take—hopefully, just a few days. I'd send Hollis home now, but I was guessing she didn't have a passport. That meant she'd have to wait and fly with me in the jet where I could sneak her back into the country.

"She's nine, you said? It sounds like she's smart. What grade is she in?" Her hands clasped and unclasped, like one washing the other. I could appreciate that she was uncomfortable. I warred with myself. I wanted to ease her discomfort, but I had a job to do if I was going to get us home.

"She is smart, but she's still a little girl." Then, more quietly, she examined her hands and said, "Third grade. She's in third grade. She likes sunflowers and yellow because butter is yellow, honeycombs, and bees …" She trailed off, her eyes focusing and unfocusing. I watched her curiously. She was dissociating. I'd seen it before in people experiencing shock. This was probably trauma, though.

"She sounds very smart to care for herself like that and then ask for help. I like yellow, but my favorite color is black. How old are you?"

"Twenty-six." Her eyes narrowed as they focused again on me. If she waited for judgment, she wouldn't get any. "Black?" She focused again on me. "Black isn't a color." I shrugged. I liked black because it hid a variety of sins.

"Why wouldn't she call the police or her grandma?" I asked. That had been the most curious part of the conversation. I could make some guesses and hypothetical leaps, but I'd like to hear it from Hollis.

She gave a small smile, her face lighting up in a way I hadn't seen yet. "Oh, you heard that. Well, that's my fault." She waved a hand casually. "My mom is pretty critical about the whole single motherhood thing. She never has anything kind to say. As for the police, well, we tend to avoid anything to do with police," Hollis said cryptically.

"Why is that?" I pried. "I mean, I avoid the police." This got another smile. "But I wouldn't think someone like you would."

"I was between places one year and had someone report me for child neglect. Olive never forgot the officers coming. She was terrified they would take her away."

That was understandable. Childhood fears that grew into monsters. However, that all worked well with my needs, which made me a horrible person. I had no desire for the police to be involved, so a woman and child that didn't call the police — perfect.

"I need to go home, Dimitri. Please," she begged.

I had no business thinking about her the way I did. All I should be doing is what I came to do. "If that's what you want, then we need to tie up the loose ends that I have so we can get out of here. Then we both get what we want."

"Fine," she said. "Whatever I need to do." She meant it, but it was a good thing I didn't intend to take advantage of the ‘whatever' part.

"Okay," I said. "Well, I have to ask you a few things. I need to find out what you know about Miguel Rodriguez and his operations."

Hollis swallowed hard, setting down the fork she'd been using to swirl around her cottage cheese. "I don't know much. I was just... taken from the grocery store. I didn't have time to see or hear anything useful."

I leaned forward, searching her eyes. "Anything you can remember could be useful. Even small details." She was so fragile. Luka was going to kill me for fucking around like this. He was already waiting for me in the other room, pacing around like a wild animal, furious that I'd brought her back and complicated things, but watching her now — I couldn't have left her.

Hollis took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Her face was so beautiful, her lips a seashell pink. She'd washed her hair, which hung in chestnut waves around her shoulders .

"I was loading my groceries in my car. I'd stopped for just a few things. Someone grabbed me, drugged me." Her breath came in quicker pants. "His name was Gregor. There was an exam room and a doctor." She closed her eyes, and she started to shake. My jaw clenched tight. Jesus. I fucked this up.

" Malysh, you're here with me. You're safe." Her teary eyes moved up to mine. I reached a hand forward and stopped. She probably didn't want me to touch her.

"I'm okay." The phrase was a ghost on her lips. "I'm okay."

But I didn't believe for a second that she was okay. Hollis looked as delicate as a porcelain doll on the massive hotel bed. Her eyes were still empty, wide in her face.

"You are okay, baby. You're here with me. You remember who I am, right?" Edging the chair closer to the bed so my knees nearly touched hers, I stared hard at her. "Hollis, you're safe with me. I won't hurt you. Breathe for me."

"I'm okay."

My heart broke. She was not okay.

"Gregor? What other names, malysh ? That's all I need. Do you remember any other names?" I asked. "I will take care of the rest." Her eyes swung to me.

"Makarovich," she said dully. "They said that name in that room. He was in charge." She turned her face away from me towards the window, and I wanted to smash something. Paint the walls with their blood. Those men were dead. "Anton was the only other name. Someone said his name today before you came." Her eyes had moved back to me but were refocused now on the spot on my shoulder as if she wasn't looking at me.

Anton Makarovich. The fucker was here; that was the news I wanted. "This man?" I pulled my phone from my pocket and showed her a photo. "Him?"

She nodded. "Yes, he brought another group, and they bought some of the women today." Hollis shivered, clutching the covers to her, but then her eyes shifted to mine. "He's the one you're looking for? That man?"

"Yes," my voice was stern. "I came to Colombia to find him. The fucker used to be part of our Bratva. He started trafficking and dipping his toes into this shit. We don't sanction this, and the asshole bolted before my pakhan, or I could pin him down."

"Seems like other people are involved, too," Hollis noted, tucking some hair behind an ear. I wanted to jump and dance that she was giving me any attitude. It seemed like a victory.

"You're not wrong, but dismantling sex trafficking in Colombia is bigger than just my Bratva," I sighed. "I'd like to say that I wear a cape and go around playing the hero, but that isn't the case. I would hate that, and I don't look good in tights." I teased. I'd left out a lot of information, some backstory. I'd love to take down Rodriguez and his operation, but I couldn't meddle in the cartels and their business primarily because I didn't have the manpower. Maxim had shut the auctions down stateside. We'd done what we could. Sadly. It wasn't enough, but sometimes you took the victories that you could.

She laughed, this time with her whole body. "I doubt that very much." And then blushed as if she were imagining me in tights. I hope she was. "I'll bet you look good in anything."

"Unfortunately, I'm just here for Anton Makarovich. He's going to die. Maybe this Gregor could be added to the list," I eyed her carefully, considering her microexpressions. "Maybe I could find that doctor, too." Her whole body went still, her hazel eyes flying to mine.

"What does someone have to do to be on the list?" she asked, her voice small.

Pulling my knife from my ankle sheath, I played it across my palm, lightly picking the nonexistent dirt under my nails, letting her eyes follow it. "Not much. I like to kill people. Bad people." Her cheeks pinkened, and her breath quickened. She didn't seem disturbed or surprised by the news.

"Ok."

"Ok," I agreed, watching her. "Gregor should be added then. Might as well be thorough." I winked at her. There was no doubt that I was looking forward to killing the guy. If there was one thing I hated, it was those who preyed on the weak. My MC had our own code about that, one of the reasons I joined them in the first place.

"Yes."

I nodded, taking her in. "Well, this should be interesting, malysh . We'll figure this out. And I'll keep my promise. I'll get you back home to Olive. I'll return with the clothes I sent Luka for in just a moment. We need to look the part."

As I thought, Luka was prowling the small living space of the penthouse. He looked up immediately when I came through the doorway.

"Did you get any useful information from the girl, brat ?" He was scowling at me.

"Actually, Luka, I'm going to surprise you." His eyebrows pushed further towards his eyes at the words.

"I doubt it very much." He rolled his eyes at me, which showed me how juvenile we'd gotten, but it always made me laugh.

"Makarovich is part of it. She's heard the name twice, she told me." I proceeded to fill him in on the clinic she mentioned.

"Well, hopefully, we can wind this up then." Luka crossed his arms across his chest, scowling. "Don't get caught up in this. We aren't here to rescue everyone," he admonished. "We didn't bring the people for that. I already spoke to Maxim, and he doesn't want you over your head with Rodriguez. "

"Of course, you spoke to Maxim." Picking up the clothes and supplies that Luka brought for Hollis, I resisted the urge to punch him in the jaw. What a dick move. "Way to be a spy. Like, I give a shit what Maxim has to say. Make sure to tell him that." Without another word, I returned to deliver everything to the only thing I cared about right now.