Stolen from the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (50 page)

“Agreed,” Mikhail says simply.

“How will you do it?” I ask, unable to let it go. This is a whole new world for me, and even though I’m trying my best to remain calm, there’s a voice screaming in the back of my head to run away and never look back. I try to silence it, but it remains. I suppose that must be the lingering shreds of my once sterling sense of self-preservation.

“Do not concern yourself with the details,
sestra
. Leave that to me. I have done this many times before, and I do not consider Martin Chandler a threat on any level,” Mikhail assures me coolly.

“See? It will all be okay,” Leon says, smiling. I can’t believe this is happening, and I’m just going along with it. A week ago, if someone had told me I would be involved in this kind of ridiculous James Bond-esque situation, I would have laughed outright.

But things change. And here we are.

“And in return?” Mikhail presses, raising an eyebrow.

Leon turns back to him and gives him a nod. “I promise to find a safe place to hide Alicia in the meantime. I have friends and connections all over town. Don’t worry,
moy brat
.”

“
Spasibo
, Leon.”

The two of them shake hands and then embrace each other. I stand aside, smiling at them even though that voice in the back of my head is starting to get louder with every second that passes. Something tells me their plan is not as foolproof as they pretend it to be. I have this gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, warning me to run, run away. But I can’t.

I’m already in.

“
D
on’t worry about Alicia
,” I tell my brother as we head back out into the bar, “I know a club up in Jersey City who owe me a favor and have a safe house where I’ve personally lain low a few times. She’ll be safe and comfortable. My vice-prez will take her there. Eva?”

She looks up from her pool game and strides over to us, giving Mikhail a nod as she does.

“Got anything going on tomorrow?”

“Nah, I can tell my techs to handle things ‘till the afternoon.” Eva owns a mechanic shop not far from here.

“Good. Do that — I’ve gotta call in a favor from someone I know I can trust. My brother here has a lady he needs taken to the safe house the boys up in Jersey City run. Some of them will still be awake at this hour. If not, here’s some cash for a motel overnight. Get her in there first thing in the morning. Tell them things are even between us if they get this taken care of, alright?”

“Been a long time since I’ve been uptown,” Eva says, stretching her arms and giving Mikhail a smile. “So am I following you, big guy?”

Mikhail gives a slow nod. “I appreciate it.” He turns to me, a grateful look in those cold, killer’s eyes of his. The eyes I know I share, deep down. This is the only person who knows me inside and out, but with Cherry at my side, I wonder if that might change.

“Leon, you should know of all people that I act swiftly and quietly. Once I’m off to handle this situation, it won’t be long before it is done.”

“I know,” I say, glancing to Cherry and exchanging a look. “Tomorrow night, I’m guessing?”

Mikhail simply nods.

“Alright. I can work with that.” The business silently concluded between us, there’s suddenly a warmth in my eyes I haven’t known in a long time, and I give my brother a smile. “It’s been good to see you again, Mikhail.”

The hitman’s stony face shows the faintest smile, and before we know it, we’re throwing our arms around each other, embracing fully for the first time in a very long while.

“
Da svidaniya, Leon.
”

“
Fsyevo harosheva, moy brat.
” The Russian language hasn’t come from my mouth in a long time, and the words feel rusty yet familiar, like walking into an old childhood home after many years. It feels good.

We break our embrace, and I watch Mikhail, Alicia and Eva make their way across the bar and out the doors, into the cool night air.

I turn to Cherry, and something seems to be bothering her. I put my arm around her waist, and she hugs me back, laying her head against my chest briefly.

“So this is what it feels like,” she says softly, and I look down at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Ordering someone’s death. I mean, we’ve been in a firefight already tonight, but something about sending someone to carry it out deliberately feels so different. I just...I never thought I’d be in this position before, you know?”

I step in front of her, placing a hand on both of her shoulders gently and looking straight into those deep eyes of hers, searchingly. “And how do you feel about it now that you’re here?”

The look she gives me back is brave. Cautious, but brave. “I don’t know if this is going to work, Leon. It’s a stretch. We’re up against impossible odds, the other side has more resources than us, more people than us, and more information than us.
And
they have the law on their side. And at one flick of a wrist, they can have the public ready to take up arms against us.” She pauses, but her eyes never break the gaze we share between us. “...but I agree. This needs to be done. I don’t feel good about how it’s going down, but Chandler’s responsible for the deaths of a lot of innocent people, and he’ll keep killing them as long as it lines his pockets.” She takes a deep breath, as though re-centering herself. “No matter what happens, Leon, I’m standing by you.”

Beaming at her, I hug her tight, breaking the seriousness of the moment with her yelp as I draw her into my embrace.

“I’m glad, because that’s exactly what we’re gonna do to establish an alibi.”

“Wait, what?”

“You know as well as I do that when this goes down, all eyes are gonna be on us,” I explain, crossing my arms. “So we need a really public display to prove that we’re not involved. Mikhail won’t leave a trace, so as long as it’s well known that we’re tied up somewhere else, nobody will be able to point a finger at us.”

As she twirls a lock of hair thoughtfully over what I’ve just said, I lead Cherry over to where Genn has been finishing up the pool table on his own, and he gives us a nod as we approach. “‘Sup, Prez?”

“Genn, we’re having a bash tomorrow.”

“A bash?”

“Yeah,” I say, “there’s been a real big fuckin’ damper over the town since all this shit with the feds started going down. I want everyone to know that they can’t keep us down. Show of solidarity that everyone can see — especially the feds.”

Genn’s started stroking his beard, and after a moment, he nods, and I can see the enthusiasm in him instantly. He’s always been a sucker for parties like this.

“Alright, yeah. I like it. I’ve got a cousin who can get the word out around town, connected with just about half the damn city.”

“Perfect,” I say with a grin. “We’ll hold it in the warehouse down at the end of Evergreen Street.”

“Yeah, I remember that one,” Genn laughs, remembering some old times fondly.

“Hear that, everyone?” I shout out across the bar, and the club turns to listen. “We’re having our own little royal ball tomorrow night at the warehouse off Evergreen!”

A cheer goes up around the bar, and Cherry blinks in astonishment after some of the bikers group up as they start to file out for the night, discussing plans and what to bring.

“You’ve got a hell of a way of rallying people,” she remarks.

“Comes in handy from time to time,” I chuckle. “Come on, you’re crashing at my place tonight.”

She seems surprised as I lead her back to my bike, but I feel her arm wrap around my waist as I do, and I know she’s happy with the arrangement. “Nobody’s going to question an impromptu party in the middle of a war with the FBI, huh?”

“You must not have spent a lot of time around bikers, Cherry,” I say in response, and she giggles lightly as we get pull out into the night.

In the back of my mind, I know there’s another reason I want to set up this get-together. The thought has been in my mind since I claimed her on the hillside earlier tonight, ploughing her into my kutte with her ass slapping against me with each thrust.

I want everyone in the club to be really fucking clear about what Cherry is to me:
my old lady
.

* * *

T
he way
this town can pull something together last-minute never ceases to amaze me.

When news spread that the Union Club was hosting something this evening, it spread like wildfire. The town’s been starving for something to raise their spirits, apparently. Before noon even rolled around, we were swamped with people calling club members to throw money into the thing and offer to cook or bring drinks. By the time people started showing up at the warehouse, you’d think it was a city-wide organized event.

I’m sitting at the end of a long table, laughing at one of Anya’s jokes as we put down another beer. Cherry is on my lap, already blushing after a couple drinks, her arms around my neck.

There’s music echoing throughout the whole warehouse, and Genn is up on the stage playing guitar with a handful of his buddies from work. He’s had a garage band going for a few years, and he’s been too shy to show it off to us, but his bandmates practically forced him to get up on stage with them for tonight.

Vasily and Roy are in the corner, taking on some of the locals at arm-wrestling. They threw together something of a tournament for the night, and now some of the factory workers from around town are trying their arms against them.

I practically ordered our bartender Rod to take the day off and enjoy himself, so I hired another local guy to run the show for him. He and I shot the breeze for a while before he snuck off to take part in what looked like a poker game among some of the other club members. Unfortunately for them, Rod has been around all of them long enough to know all their tells, and he’s cleaning house, much to their chagrin.

Outside, I’ve heard that the mechanics from across town are being shown the club’s bikes, and as news spreads, some of the club’s gearheads slip out to take part. From what I’ve heard across the warehouse, Eva’s already come close to getting into a brawl with someone over an engine modification.

“I can
not
believe I ever left this town,” Cherry laughs as Anya slips off to chat with the young carpenter she’s had her eye on all night. Cherry hugs my neck tight, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Leon, look at all this! This was less than a day’s prep!”

“It’s something else, yeah,” I chuckle, giving her ass a squeeze and pulling her closer into me. She giggles, bringing her forehead to touch mine with heavily lidded eyes.

“I can’t believe you, you know? It’s like you can get this whole town moving, just by the force of your personality. But you don’t use it for yourself, you know? You just kind of... inspire them.”

The grin on my face spreads, and my hand runs up her back. “I’m not the only one who’s inspired someone lately,” I whisper in her ear in a husky tone, and Cherry bites her lip a moment before pressing her lips against mine.

I let her meld into me, tossing my beer aside as my hands grip her ass and we make out right there in view of everyone. It only makes my cock harder as I feel her up, and her hands slip inside my kutte while her tongue dives into my mouth.

“There’s an empty office room in the back,” I whisper into her ear, and she starts to grin and stand up when the warehouse front door swings open and Eva sprints in, waving her hands.

“
Everyone! The feds are here!
”

The next instant, half a dozen police officers flood through the door, one of whom grabs Eva’s arms and presses her against the wall as he slips handcuffs on her wrists. A number of the cops shout out as they pour in: “County police! Everyone freeze, hands in the air!”

The crowd explodes.

Club members and townsfolk alike dive for windows, surge towards backdoors, or get run down by the county police. I realize that they’re only grabbing the patches and anyone who’s been seen with our club regularly. Immediately, I grab a shocked Cherry’s arm and bolt towards the back office I meant to fuck in a few moments ago.

Chaos takes over in a matter of moments, and my heart sinks as I hear Agent Doyle’s voice just outside the entrance.

“FBI, FBI! Everyone remain calm, I have a warrant!”

Inside, things are anything but calm. The county sheriffs that have crashed the party waste no time in overturning tables, sending the home cooked food the town had brought in scattering across the floor, and the sound of broken glass tells me the drinks are following after in short order.

The club gets the worst of it. Vasily gets tackled by two of the cops, one of them sticking a knee in his neck while they handcuff him on the ground. It takes twice as many to keep Roy down. I don’t see Anya or Genn, and I wonder whether they’ve already been hauled into the cars outside or if they made it out in time.

Cherry and I dart to the back office, and I make sure she’s inside before glancing back at the front of the warehouse. Nobody seems to have noticed yet, but I can’t count on that for long.

“Cherry,” I breathe, slamming the door behind us and looking back at her, “there’s a vent you can climb into here, just above that filing cabinet. Here, I’ll help you up. Stay here until things cool off, they won’t think to look for you.”

“Wait,” Cherry protests as I push her towards the cabinet, “what’s going to happen to you?!”

“I don’t know yet, Cherry. But if they’ve got us for the hit, then I’m sorry. You were right,” I admit, a grim look on my face, but Cherry’s face only shows concern for me.

“I don’t see how, it isn’t even that late yet, there’s no way they could know about — ”

Outside, I can hear footsteps getting closer, and the look on Cherry’s face tells me she’s heard it too. Without another word, I help her up, and she pries open the rusty vent shaft with little issue.

Whatever happens, Leon,” she says as she clambers in, casting another look at me as I watch her slip inside, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” “I say, my meaning absolute with every word. She closes the vent over her, and without another moment, I dart for the window on the other side of office. It would look suspicious if I was just standing there, but I know what’s coming.

As if on cue, the door to the office smashes open just as my hands reach the window.

“That’s far enough, Mr. Volkov,” Agent Doyle says calmly, “you can keep your hands up against that window for us, thank you.” I can practically hear the smile on his face.

“Sorry, did we forget your invitation?” I ask, keeping still as I three county sheriffs surround me and pull my arms behind me.

“Leon Volkov,” Doyle proceeds, unfazed, “you are under arrest for obstruction of justice.”