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“The sonofabitch carved the letter N into her thigh,” he answered, sending blood roaring in my ears. “Lochlan was able to stitch her up, but it’s not pretty, and some of the indents were deep. Luckily, he didn’t cut any arteries, or else she would have been fucked.”
“Where is she?”
“I’ll send you the address, but just you and Maksim are allowed to come get her, Kotov,” he stated. “We’re still not friends, tovarishch.”
“No, we are not, comrade,” I agreed, annoyed that he was showing off at a time like this.
“She knows that I am calling you, and I gotta tell you, I’m getting the sense that you’re not her favorite person,” he quipped.
“Did she tell you anything else?” I asked, ignoring his nonsense.
“She did,” he answered, getting serious again. “However, I think it’s best that you get the story directly from her. It’s neither my place, nor my business.”
“Understood.”
When I hung up, Maksim asked, “Where is she?”
“The O’Briens have her,” I answered, making him laugh at the irony.
“Of course, they do.”
“They’re extending the same courtesy that we bestowed on Noah Murphy when his wife lost her way,” I went on. “We’re allowed to go get her, but only you and I.”
Just then, my phone chimed with an incoming text, and when I pulled it up, it was an address that I knew was close to our mutual borderline. Now, I wasn’t sure if it was just pure coincidence, or if they really did have a place that close to us. Granted, it wouldn’t surprise me if they did. With Lochlan Murphy being a doctor, it was a good idea to have medical houses throughout their territory.
“Is she okay?”
“No,” I bit out. “The motherfucker carved the letter N into her thigh.”
Maksim’s chin went up, and I knew that he was thinking the same thing that I was. He’d been planning to send a message for Nikel, and Samara was lucky that Louie had only managed to carve one letter into her flesh. If I could bring the bastard back to life and kill him all over again, I would.
“Send me the address,” Maksim ordered. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Though I knew that Declan O’Brien was a man of his word, I still wasn’t a man that trusted any situation blindly. So, as I got into my car, I called Melor to tell him what was going on. Someone needed to know that Maksim and I were heading into O’Brien territory just in case something popped off. Again, I knew that The O’Brien was honorable, but I only knew that about him and Noah Murphy; I didn’t know the other people around him.
Twenty minutes later, I was pulling into a dirt road that led into a thicket of trees, and it wasn’t a couple of minutes before I was driving onto a gravel road that led to a small cabin. Anyone looking from the outside in would think that it was just a cozy hunting cabin, and that wasn’t uncommon throughout the state of Maryland. Now, while the cabin wasn’t used for hunting, I had no doubt that there were plenty of guns inside the place.
I turned off the car, then got out as Maksim pulled in behind me. As I made my way forward, Noah Murphy was already exiting through the front door, and he didn’t look happy, though the man never did. At least, not during any of the times when I’d had to meet with him. Of course, I knew that he didn’t want us here any more than we wanted to be here, but he also understood that love made men rather stupid, rather easily.
When I reached the porch, Noah put his hand out in a show of good faith, and I took it. For one split second, we were not enemies, we were not syndicate members, we were not at odds; we were two men that knew what it felt like when someone attacked the woman that they loved.
“Lochlan patched her up, but she’s a mess,” he said as we let go of our handshake. “And when I say that she’s a mess, I mean that she’s tired, hasn’t eaten, and is in pain. Lochlan wanted to wait to give her something until you got here, figuring that you’d want her coherent enough to answer some questions.”
I gave him a terse nod before he acknowledged Maksim, then turned around to lead us into the cabin. As soon as we entered, it was easy to see that it wasn’t a cabin at all. Instead, it was a makeshift emergency haven with an open floorplan. There was a bathroom in the back, but the bedroom and living room had been combined into one huge room. There was also a kitchen, but it looked more utilitarian than a place to have a nice family dinner.
On the far left side of the room was a comfortable-looking twin-sized bed, and a few feet away from that was a functional hospital bed, and Samara was sitting on it, her legs dangling off the side. She looked exactly as Noah had described her, tired and a mess.
No one said a word as I approached the bed, but the last thing that I cared about was privacy. Unless she felt like she needed some, I was okay with having this conversation in front of everyone. Besides, only Noah and Lochlan were here, so it really wasn’t that big of a deal to me.
“Hey, baby,” I greeted quietly. “I hear you have had one hell of a night.”
Samara’s blue eyes looked into mine, and what I saw there nearly sent me to my knees. She looked like she really hated me, and that was unfortunate since I wasn’t going to let her go again. I’d been trying to be noble the first time, then I’d been angry the second time, and now I knew for a fact that there would be no third time.
My sanity wouldn’t survive it.
“Nikel Ovchinnikov is Maksim’s half-brother, and he’s out for some sort of revenge,” she said, refusing to acknowledge that there was more going on between us. “He had an older brother that died a while back, and he blames Demitri Barychev for not being around for his mother during the tragedy. It was a resentment that festered, and when his mom died a few years ago, he and Louie came to the US to get their revenge.” She winced a bit, and it took everything that I had in me not to tear the place apart. “However, when they got here, they learned that Demitri had passed a long time ago, but instead of accepting that, he became more resentful when he learned that Maksim and Akim were part of the bratva. Nikel is under the impression that Maksim and Akim had been living the high life while he’d been in Russia, suffering under the grief of losing his brother.”
“Samara-”
