Prologue
“I don’t want to complain, but it feels so good to get out of the house.” Jessalyn smiled as she watched the desert scenery whip by through the darkened windows of the SUV.
“No, I totally get it,” Hannah said. “I was going a little crazy myself. It was even worse before you arrived. When it was just me and Rurik. Not even security or staff stayed in the house.”
Jessalyn’s brows scrunched together in the center of her nutmeg-colored forehead. Strange way to describe a honeymoon. But she still hadn’t figured out what was going on with the couple. “All the better for newlyweds, right?”
“Right,” Hannah replied. Okay, that wasn’t helpful. It had been two weeks since she’d taken the tutoring job. Every cell in her body still screamed and shrieked with warnings. No one paid thirty-thousand dollars upfront to have a grad student teach an independent study course. The university didn’t even allow it. Hannah missed the end of the last semester, without turning in her final assignments or applying for an extension. She should have received an F. With her otherwise good academic record, she could have made up the class later. Instead, the dean of students, the freaking dean, called and asked Jessalyn to take this assignment. He hired her to proctor Hannah’s courses and help her complete two final assignments to receive a make-up grade. What the what?
It was more money than she’d ever dreamed she’d earn in one semester. A godsend that saved their house from foreclosure after her mom had fallen behind. Using the little money she earned as a home health aide to help pay for Jessa’s school expenses. Taking out a second mortgage and falling behind on that as well.
So, even though her cop DNA was screaming and yelling, she muted it. Her father, who’d died in the line of duty when she was fourteen, was probably turning over in his grave. Not just turning, spinning like a dreidel. But Miguel Hernandez was dead. It was her uncles finding out that kept her up at night. His police brothers had stepped up and in after his death. Taking his place in everything from father-daughter dances to fatherly advice on boys. Dragging her from the dojo to the gun range, insisting she learned how to defend herself.
Uncle Mike’s rule on boys was simple. “Don’t trust them. Not one. If you find one you think you can break that rule for, bring him to me. I’ll run a background check.” His gruff voice had growled out the instructions while his cold blue eyes had handcuffed hers until she nodded.
She grinned at his square face stone visage. Familiar with the teddy bear hidden inside the grizzly. “You want fingerprints and DNA samples, too?”
“Damn right. But I won’t need the DNA because you’re not having sex with him. Or anybody, until he gets the clearance and after you’re married.”
She rolled her eyes at that one. Would there ever be a day when they didn’t see her as their baby? Jessa had to leave the house to lose her virginity in her dorm at twenty. It was awful. Not Chuck’s fault. The guilt trip they’d run on her messed her up. The three of them were worse than the group of Catholic nuns in the parish school she’d attended. Of course, her near-rape at thirteen hadn’t helped either. Despite the less than adequate sex, she’d hung on to Chuck. Enjoying the companionship, and the warm snugly feeling when they held hands. But the sex, ugh. Not good. And was it supposed to last only a few minutes? That was the advice she’d needed. According to every book she’d ever read, no. But books got a lot of things wrong.
Jessa stared at the scenery again, letting Hannah ramble on about shoes and purses. Something was off about the whole situation. Why so much security? Armed security. Two armed drivers for a simple girl’s shopping trip. Uncle Lou’s advice was not to watch the person as much as the environment. “Take in everything. Don’t miss a detail. People can fool you with what they say. But the environment will show you. The alley, the lighting, the time of day, the others at the bar. Watch everything around you. And especially the route. Always know where he’s taking you and how you’re supposed to get there. Never trust some asshole’s ‘this is the way’. Know your own way.”
So even though they had drivers, she had the route mapped out on her GPS. Hannah chatted about fashions from the latest style magazine she wanted, while Jessa discretely checked her phone. Damn Lou, that’s why she didn’t have many friends. Too freaking paranoid and suspicious. There was no mute button for that.
She raised her brows when her phone vibrated to show they’d missed their turn. Her spine stiffened, and she looked around. Nothing greeted her gaze other than the unwelcoming barren haze of endless sand. Perfect place to bury a body. Shit. “Okay, stay calm.” Uncle Brendan’s voice whispered. Check your phone. She paged through the directions on her lap. Was there an alternate route? Hell no. It was the freaking desert, not another turnoff for twenty miles. Which would take them miles away from their original destination. Shit.
“Hey, was that our turnoff back there?” Danyael asked the driver. Petur, that was his name. He had the hard, ruthless look of his boss, Sanyet. Thick Russian accent, tattoos on the tops of his hands, and markings on each finger. Full neck tattoo that dropped under his collar. Slight nick in his left brow. Old scars on his knuckles. He’d seen a lot of fights, while Danyael’s hands were clear and his fingers smooth. He would not be of any help in a fight. Great.
“Change of plans.”
Shit, shit. Jessa took a deep breath. Remain calm. Hannah had leaned forward, asking, “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is wonderful.” The sound of his laugh prickled every hair on the back of her neck. “We’re taking a slight detour.”
Hannah’s eyes widened and her lips trembled, but she forced the words out. “To where?”
“Your father would like to see you.”
Hannah’s dusky complexion paled from the golden sun to the frothy white of sea foam. But she hardened her eyes and balled her fists. Good, at least she had one other fighter on her side. Would Danyael assist? Didn’t seem like he was in on whatever Petur planned. “I do not feel the same. Please take me back to Rurik.”
Petur laughed again. “Do you like serving in his bed so much, then? Good, because I’m taking you where you will serve many men. Your father lost a lot of money when you ran off with the Ismailov. Now you will repay him. On your back.”
Keep him talking. Jessa felt around in her purse, searching for the lipstick knife Uncle Brendan had given her when she left for college. “Most women are useless with guns unless it’s at a distance. Too many times, the gun gets taken away and used on them. Believe me, you don’t want to give him a weapon he doesn’t have. But a knife is for close contact. If he gets up close and personal with you. Then you get up close and personal back. You’re only going to get one chance, though, so make it count. Juglar vein or straight in the heart. That’s it. You don’t hesitate, full force, and while he’s dying out, you take off. And for God’s sake, don’t make sure he’s okay. Who gives a fuck? Not you, okay.”
Brendan had just come from a gruesome rape scene and her limbs were still shaking from the details he’d given. Details she didn’t want, not with her own nightmares still haunting her sleep. He handed her the knife she’d originally refused. “Use it. Fucking use it.” He crushed her fingers around the lipstick barrel. The same barrel burning in her palm.
Hannah’s phone pealed, breaking the silence. “Do not fucking answer it,” Petur growled. Hannah’s eyes locked on Jessa’s. Jessa nodded. They had to at least open the line. Someone had to know what was going on.
Hannah took the call. “Sanyet…”
“Hang the fucking phone up.” The harsh command tightened Jessa’s grip on the lipstick barrel as she slid it out of her bag.
“What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Rurik will kill you…” Danyael interrupted.
Petur pulled a gun from his holster and aimed it in his direction. Holding the car steady with one hand and the gun in the other. It was now or never. No hesitation. There was no way he could control both and fight them off at the same time.
“I warned you to stay home. Told you I could handle this alone. But you were too busy sniffing behind that black bitch.”