Chapter thirty-four
Thedoortothelift closes and I stand in front of it in just my boxers. So many emotions flood through me that I struggle with which one to hang on to.
Anger that she tested me, that the Russians approached her, and that I couldn’t keep her safe. Relief that I know she can take care of herself without me, even though I want to be the one to do it. Heartache that she didn’t want to stay here. Not that I can blame her when I’m the reason she is suffering.
I huff as I turn around, the men of my family still standing in my living room.
Da unbuttons his suit jacket and lounges on the sofa, while Sean looks like he’s seen a ghost. He’s never seen me so unraveled. I’m his big brother, the one that keeps it all together all the time.
Paddy coughs, sitting down beside Declan. He says, “I’ll bet she’s going to Griffin’s place. I’ll stop over there this evening.”
″Thank you,” I say. “Fucking Russians. I thought we were working toward a peace treaty, then they threaten her? Who the fuck would do this?”
″It may not have been someone from Boston,” Declan suggests. “It could be anyone. Maybe even someone who knows we have the pregnant woman.”
Sean grabs his briefcase, pulls his laptop out, and sets it on the coffee table. “We’ll figure out who it was and deal with it. Until then, make sure Haley keeps Scotty with her at all times. No more guard breaks like last time. Have someone sit at her house, too.”
He delves into his laptop, tapping away furiously as Da leans forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “You have to get her back, son. She shouldn’t be in the open, unprotected.”
″I know that, Da. Especially with her father still in the city,” I say.
Fuck, I haven’t even given her time to process the news that Jason is missing, and now this bullshit. Sweat drips from my forehead as a sharp pain digs into my stomach. I’ve let her down so horribly.
I scrub my face, and I begin to pace. The gears turn in my head, trying to figure out how I can fix this.
Ihaveto fix this.
″Here’s a lead. Vaska Semenov,” Sean blurts out as he touches something on his screen. “Ring any bells?”
Declan rubs his index finger against his chin. “Vaska…he’s normally in New York. I met him once at one of those bullshit political galas in D.C. you make me attend, Cal. What the fuck is he doing in Boston?”
″See, those galas pay off.” I say to Declan, then hurry to Sean, peering over his shoulder as he pulls up a photo of the man. His name doesn’t sound familiar to me, so I glance back at Dec. “What do you remember about him?”
″We talked about a politicians most of the night,” Declan shrugs. “A congressman. Forget his name though. The asshole was shoved so far up senator’s ass you could smell the shit on his nose. Vaska and I had a good rapport, I thought. Even met for drinks and he sold us some guns a couple of years ago.”
″Does he have any relatives in the business here in Boston?” Da asks.
″I don’t think so,” Declan says.
″Dec, give him a call,” I say as I nod toward my brother.
″Sure.” He sits on the couch and pulls out his phone. After a few seconds, Decland puts the phone on speaker and we listen to it ring.
An American accent greets us through the line. “Declan Murphy. I expected you to call much sooner.”
″Yeah, well, the message was just given to us, Vaska,” Declan says lazily.
He chuckles through the line. “Yes, I’m surprised she gave it at all. She was very determined to tell me to fuck myself.”
″Cut the shit, Semenov. You approached my woman. Why shouldn’t I carve you into a million little pieces?” I growl, hovering over Declan.
″Ahh, Callum Murphy is with you. Not surprised. Let’s cut to the chase then. You have something that belongs to me.”
″And what is that?” I ask.
″Yulia.”
″Fuck.” Leave it to Sean to make this messier than it has to be. Always trying to be the do-gooder to make up for the shit we do. I’m surprised he hasn’t given me any ulcers yet.