Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

A leksander

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" I barked into the phone. "I will kill you, Roman, if anything happened to her."

"It was fucking fifteen years ago. Fifteen," Roman insisted. "A lifetime ago. I thought nothing of it. But you were right in your assumptions."

"Meaning what?" We were almost to the house, Ivan driving like a bat out of hell to get there. I couldn't stop shaking, more from anger than anything else. I had no clue what to think, what to expect. Vadim had dispatched his soldiers to scour the area but since a boat had been used, she could be anywhere. Jersey. Pennsylvania. Fuck.

He knew what to do, assuring me we would find her. How? In New York, it would be like a needle in a haystack. Unless the fucker responsible wanted her found. If he couldn't take me down, he'd decided on using her? I would crush every bone in the fucker's body.

One by one.

"Meaning I think I'm onto something, but I need to check one last thing before I mention his name."

"Who the fuck is it?" I slammed my hand on the dashboard, almost scaring Ivan, which was very rare.

"Not yet. I know you're going to go off halfcocked. I need to make certain the bastard remained in town upon his release."

I could hear the fear in Roman's voice. I might be ruthless as one of the best defense attorneys in the business, but he'd also seen my darkest side, the unleashing of the beast.

God help the man and the city. No one wanted that to happen. Ever.

"You will fucking tell me. Do you hear me?" I didn't bother waiting for him to give me another excuse before ending the call. "Drive faster."

"I'm already breaking about ten laws. Are you sure you don't want to see the harbor master instead?"

"No!" I snapped with way too much vehemence, immediately rubbing my eyes. Whoever the fucker was, he'd made a list and was ceremoniously going down it. "I can't handle this, Ivan. You know why."

He was one of a few people who did other than Vadim.

He swung around the last corner so fast, I was slammed against the passenger door.

In addition to his men scouting the entire city, blanketing them with soldiers, Vadim had made phone calls to the people of Brighton Beach, specifically the men who'd placed themselves in charge even if the Bratva owned everyone involved.

Given their loyalty, the fact they'd met Raphaella, they knew they had a stake in the situation.

They certainly didn't want me burning down their portion of New York.

The area surrounding the house was blanketed in a dozen or so residents as well as additional soldiers working for me.

They'd also come to provide cleanup, giving aid to the injured men when possible while taking the dead bodies of the soldiers to a chilled facility. They deserved a proper burial, every one of them. Plus, their families would be compensated for their losses.

But right now, I couldn't concentrate on something so mundane.

Not when her life had been placed into the hands of a madman.

I was out the door before Ivan pulled it to a full stop. No one tried to stop me as I raced toward the house. They all knew better, and it was about reverence.

The thought of losing someone we cared about was enough to create a moment of silence as well.

Vadim was quick on my heels, whistling as soon as we walked inside.

As I walked further in, my mind was already in a huge fog. The living room and so much of the furniture was riddled with bullet holes, the patio glass leading to the deck she loved so much shattered into hundreds of pieces. The goddamn thing was supposed to be bulletproof. That meant the door had been peppered with gunfire, which would eventually work.

Vadim shifted forward, studying the room before shaking his head. "Likely an AR500. As of today, they are the most powerful weapons in the sniper business."

He knew his guns, especially assault rifles. Given the usual trajectory, it was entirely possible the sniper had been far enough out on the water he hadn't been detected while blanketing the area with bullets.

My men never had a chance.

What I didn't know was whether he'd struck and killed her.

"I don't see any blood, boss," Ivan said.

That didn't necessarily mean anything depending on where she was in the house. "The fucker might be a released disgruntled prisoner, someone I defended a long time ago." As I said the words, they sounded so hollow.

Vadim turned slowly. "Then we will track him."

I was beginning to wonder whether the bastard was having too much fun, the vicious game everything he'd planned while behind bars.

Track him. I moved further into the house, noticing she'd taken a bottle of wine from the cabinet. The door still stood open, her phone dropped onto the floor.

As the realization of the situation finally began to settle in, the adrenaline wearing off, I slowly fell to my knees, placing my head in both hands. The agony was too much to bear, the feeling that there was nothing I could do debilitating.

It was just like when I'd lost my baby sister. There'd been nothing I could do, her death nearly destroying our family.

As I took deep, scattered breaths, I knew in my gut I would never be the same if she was taken from me.

I sensed Vadim from behind, the man remaining quiet while I suffered.

When I sucked in my breath fighting to stand, he finally said something.

"We'll get her back, Aleks. That's my promise to you."

"Yes, we will. One way or the other." There was only one way to do this, to win against a deranged human.

Dive to his level. Think like him.

Be him.

Even if that meant slithering to the bowels of humanity. I didn't care.

My partner had no sooner walked inside my house when I jumped him, shoving him into the entrance foyer wall. The anger had only continued to spiral. I hadn't been able to stay there. I couldn't stomach being in the place where our passion had started taking a turn for something truly special.

I'd stood on the beach for almost thirty minutes, staring out at the water, making a promise to her, myself, and the bastard that if it was the last thing I did, I would hunt him down.

After that, things had started spiraling downward.

Now I was little more than a shell of myself, a crazed man on a mission of revenge.

I shoved my weapon under Roman's chin, pushing up with force.

He was immediately sweating. He knew when he'd pushed me too far. I was closer to the edge than I'd been my entire fucking life. When Fiona had died, the cancer ravaging her fragile body, I'd lost my shit. It had been the first time I'd almost killed a man, my father and Ivan barely able to stop me.

The heartbreak had resurfaced but this was more painful, breathing difficult as my mind went to some dangerous places.

"You fucked with me, Roman. Tell me why I shouldn't put a bullet into your brain right now." I was spitting in his face from the heightened level of rage.

"Whoa. Whoa. Don't do this," Vadim hissed from beside me. He knew better than to pull me off when I got like this. He'd been on the end of more than a few unfortunate punches.

Roman was cowering, his face reddening as I squeezed. The barrel of my gun remained exactly where it had been, although I was ready to shove it into the man's mouth.

"Why?" I growled all over again.

"Because…" he said sheepishly. "I think I know the name."

"The name?" I repeated for sport.

"His name. His name! The killer."

Vadim's phone rang and while I glanced over, hopeful one of our men had found something, I had a bad feeling there was little to tell.

I pulled the weapon away first, issuing a single hard punch for effect.

Roman whimpered and stomped his foot as he grabbed his face.

"Fucking talk, Roman. You have five seconds and I am running out of patience."

"Do you remember the name Jericho Jaxen?"

I had to think. Vadim was doing his best to hide his conversation, completely turned away.

Roman huffed, coughing more than once before pulling something from his pocket. I snatched it before he had a chance to do a goddamn thing explaining what he had.

The name was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

One look at the photograph of the man being led off the prison and I realized why.

It wasn't one of the finer moments of my career. In fact, it was right after I'd come on board with Roman. The kid had gone after the man responsible for killing his sister in cold blood. The case had resonated, which was why I'd taken it on.

Jericho had been a low-level criminal, performing strongarm shit for the Italian mafia. While I'd tried at first, the kid telling me he caught the asshole red-handed ready to kill another girl, I'd been halfhearted about it at that point. I'd known I was going to lose.

The crime had been too bloody, too premeditated.

And I'd been right. The sentence had been life behind bars. Given the death sentence had been abolished, he'd wallowed in a horrible prison. I could only imagine what the kid's good looks had forced him to endure.

"Jericho?" I asked. "There's no way he was released. Not even with good behavior."

"Yeah, well, you weren't told he got himself a new attorney who had the charge reduced down to voluntary manslaughter, time served."

"Why the fuck wasn't I told this?" I asked more out of professional courtesy than anything else.

"It would appear he has some connections." Roman was rattled but his attention was drawn away as Vadim walked closer.

"It would seem the sniper's horizons have widened. Two of the jurors on his case were murdered, shot from a high-powered, long-range rifle from a significant distance. Four of the other jurors remain in the city, the others moved or died. The prosecutor on the case is currently MIA."

The news was disturbing but some of the pieces weren't completely falling into place. "He's going down his list." My brain was wacked enough it shifted into the phrase, ‘and checking it twice.'

"Apparently, which means a good portion of the city is on lockdown."

"Which is what he wants. They fucking police commissioner needs to have the reporters tell people no open blinds. No traveling."

That wasn't going to happen. You didn't just stop a city in mid-action because of a couple of murders. It didn't work that way.

"We need to concentrate on getting her back," he told me.

"Then I need every known associate, every possible place this fucker could be holed up," I told Roman. He more than owed me one. When I spun to face Vadim, he already knew what I was going to say.

"Don't worry," he said through clenched teeth. "I've contacted certain associates still in the illegal guns business. Just stay calm."

"Calm? My entire life is being pulled out from under me, Vadim, and you want me to remain calm? Not a fucking chance." I turned and headed toward my bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Vadim pressed.

"To change. I'm going hunting. And I will find her. You will call me with a list of places I should visit, people I should kill." It wasn't a request but a command and the men in the room knew it.

"One other thing," he said. "The reporter who wrote the article? My guess is he was hired by this Jericho. He's dead."

"Cleaning up loose ends. I bet that girl, Jasmine, was hired to provide insider information as well."

"I'll keep an eye out."

"Good." As I walked away, I could tell every man in the room remained concerned.

My mood was in the toilet, which meant a lot of people could die.

And I was eager to enjoy every moment.