Until the End (28 page)

“You should probably go talk to her. I doubt you want Luka man-handling her.”

Mishca dragged himself from the chair, stopping at the door to look back at his sister.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said rolling her eyes. “It would be no point in trying to keep you two apart. True love and blah blah blah.”

“We ended things.”

She laughed. She actually laughed at him, patting his shoulder. “Even I didn’t believe that would last.”

Lifting the glass, he prepared to tip the rest of his drink into his mouth, but Alex snatched it from him, smiling as she drunk it down in a single gulp.

“For luck.”

He was too tired to rise to her bait.

It took thirty-seven steps to get from his office to the bedroom. In those thirty-seven steps, he thought of every possible scenario Lauren would say to him once he was in her presence, and each one would break him.

Luka shot out of the room, laughing in earnest as he ducked, a shoe flying past him, slamming against the wall.

“I like her,” Luka said brushing by Mishca as he disappeared down the hall.

Mishca hesitated as he peeked around the corner, trying to discern whether it was safe for him.

Lauren was sitting, not looking at him as she bounced her leg, a sign that she was agitated.

“Luka bothering you?” Mishca asked, tucking his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the wall.

She smirked, the action lightening her eyes, momentarily overshadowing the darkness that was still there.

“He’s insane.”

That much everyone knew. “I thought you would be gone by now.”

That melted away the happiness on her face. “I thought about what you said last night and I’ve decided that I respectfully disagree. We’re not ending things just because of a pissing match between you and your rival.”

What. The. Fuck.

It was like he was talking to someone entirely different. Did she not remember what happened the other night?

“It won’t just be the Albanians,” Mishca said pointedly.

“But I have you.”

“I won’t always be around.”

“Then Vlad or Luka will be there. They follow me around enough anyway.”

“There’s always going to be something that will remind you of your father.”

She sighed, crossing the room until she was in front of him. Reaching up, she touched his chest, over his heart.

“Then I’ll deal with it.”

“No.”

“Now who’s the one running?” She asked softly, refusing to back down.

“What are you not understanding?” Mishca asked exploding off the wall. “You could
die
.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“I’m not.”

“And you think it’ll make a difference now? I may not bear your mark, but everyone knows I’m yours. You can’t just erase that.” She shoved him, making him stumble back a step. “Your enemies, whoever they may be, aren’t going to care that we’re no longer together. They’ll still use me to get to you.”

Although he hated to admit it—and he hadn’t thought of that—she was right. In her presence, he forgot his position, and he’d arrogantly paraded her around without a single thought to the consequences.

But he wasn’t ready to give in yet.

“I can still keep you safe without—”

“Okay, fine.” She threw her hands up. “Then, I’m free to see whoever I want, right? Johnny did ask me out a few weeks ago, maybe I’ll call him.”

Mishca’s arm shot out so fast, Lauren jumped. She had thought to walk past him with that parting remark, but Mishca stopped her from going anywhere.

He was surprised the wall hadn’t given away.

“
Nyet
.”

“Can’t have it both ways, Mish.”

“Who the hell is Johnny?”

She smirked, knowing she had got him exactly where she wanted him.

“This is what I want, Mish. I don’t know how else to tell you that. It’s time
you
stopped running from this. Isn’t that what you told me?”

“I don’t run from anything.”

“Prove it.”

Tilting her face up, he pressed a hard kiss to her lips, conceding to what she was saying.

He knew he had been a goner since the first day he laid eyes on her. Mishca couldn’t let her go, even if he wanted to.

“
Vy budete menya v mogilu
—
You’ll be the death of me
.”

Smiling, she said, “Were you telling me how great I am?”

Drawing back, he blew out a breath, laughing at the fact that he had been out negotiated…again. “Of course.” Kissing her again, he said, “You should get going. My business with the Albanians should be over soon.”

“Be careful, Mish.”

“You have my word.”

He dropped his arm, allowing her to pass him. “I still want to know who Johnny is.”

It felt odd being back at home, like the events over the last few days hadn’t happened. Dropping her bag on the floor, Lauren collapsed back on the couch, sighing at how relieved she felt at such a mundane act.

She had only been sitting for a couple of seconds before the doorbell rang, probably Luka bringing her whatever she may have forgot in his car.

Opening the door, Lauren gulped, wishing for the hundredth time that she had learned her lesson the last few times she had answered the door without checking to see who was on the other side.

She tried pushing the door shut, but one of the men threw his arm out, catching it before it could close. Instead of trying to go for her phone—knowing that she would not be able to call for help before they could get to her—Lauren reached for the vase, grabbing the neck of it and slamming it down on the man’s head closest to her, but there were too many of them for her to fight effectively.

She took off down the hall, stampeding feet echoing behind her. Just reaching the window in her bedroom, she wrenched it open, halfway out before someone grabbed her ponytail, yanking her back into the room.

A bag was thrown over her head, her wrists and ankles bound with ties. No matter her struggles, they were able to restrain her, carrying her down the flight of stairs to an unmarked van waiting at the curb.

Her heart was racing, but Lauren tried to stay calm. Her restraints were too tight for her to wiggle free, and the booted foot pressing against her back kept her from moving from her position on the floor of the van.

It felt like they traveled for hours though it was little more than thirty minutes. The sliding door was opened, the men around her climbing out, shaking the van. Someone grabbed her, tossing her over her shoulder, graveling crunching beneath their boots as they carried her into a building.

They went up a flight of stairs, the wood creaking beneath their feet. After about another minute, she was dropped down into a chair, her arms cut free momentarily before they were bound behind her back, her legs to the chair.

Then, footsteps receded.

She was left to her thoughts, the stillness around her causing more fear than the reality that she had been kidnapped. She couldn’t even say who had done it since she didn’t recognize any of the men.

She didn’t know how long she sat like that before she heard someone coming towards her and the bag was snatched from her head, making Lauren wince at the bright light from the windows around her. She was in a building, large holes in the ceiling pouring light onto the hardwood floors. She couldn’t see much, only what was directly in front of her since several men were currently moving around near the stairwell.

One was setting up a tripod some feet away from her, another fiddling with a camcorder. There was only one she thought she recognized and only after he turned to face her did she recognize who he was.

Brahim Besnik, Jetmir’s brother.

When he noticed Lauren’s attention on him, he smiled broadly, his eyes glinting with excitement as he stepped towards her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face as he leaned forward.

“Good to see you’re awake.”

She couldn’t say much with the gag in his mouth. Laughing when he realized this, he yanked it from her mouth.

Not wasting her time, Lauren asked, “What do you want with me?”

“You? I want nothing from you, but I need something from that Russian of yours.”

“The diamond,” Lauren said. “He doesn’t have it.”

“And you know this? He would never share that with you even if he did, just to avoid a situation like this.”

“He—”

“Shut up. Now, this can be easy for you, or—” he reached out suddenly, wrapping his hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to cut off her air, “—I can make this one of the worst days of your life.”

When he finally released her, she coughed, breathing in deeply. Again, she asked, “What do you want?”

“How about a demonstration? You will read from there,”—he pointed to one of the men holding large cards—“and we will record a lovely video for the
Bratva
Captain.”

She looked from him to the other men that were waiting patiently, their smiles making fear course through her.

Without a doubt, she knew this was already the worst day of her life.

Mishca had waited at the drop for over an hour, but Naomi never showed. He tried calling her, but the disposable phone she had been using was disconnected.

“What are you going to do?” Vlad asked as they got back in the car.

“Set up a meeting with the Albanians, tell them what I know. I can’t risk protecting Naomi anymore.”

That was going to be harder than it sounded. His word was his bond, and now that he had neither the diamond nor Naomi to hand over to Jetmir, they would assume he was hiding her, no matter what he told them.

Digging out his phone, he called Lauren, wanting to tell her that she would need to get back to the safe house, but it went to voicemail.

He wasn’t looking forward to his next call.

“I wasn’t able to uphold my end of the deal,” Mishca said to Mikhail, tamping down his pride in asking his father for help. “What should I do?”

“Let’s not do business over the phone. I will meet you at your club.”

“See you then.”

Mishca had made it a habit never to involve his father in his business dealings, not just because he didn’t want his men to get the wrong impression of him, but because he sometimes felt like he lived in his father’s shadow and that was a place he didn’t want to be.

He tried her phone again, but when Mishca got no answer, he cursed, redialing before he could crush the electronic device.

It was just a feeling at first, something that was rubbing him the wrong way. From the moment he felt that budding anxiety in his chest, he’d called Lauren, just to hear her voice, but with each unanswered call, that anxiety grew.

When he reached her voicemail again, Mishca ended the call, looking around the room for his keys, at least until his phone rang.

Without looking at the caller id, he answered. “Lauren?”

“Mishca, this is Amber.”

The fear in her voice made him stand up straighter. “Amber? What’s wrong?”

“I need you to come to the apartment. Lauren’s gone.”