I pulled a still photo from his file. The image had been enhanced to make his face clearer and more recognizable.
“Don’t say anymore, Mr. Belov,” his lawyer warned.
“One of the victims also had your DNA under his nailbed.” The preliminary results hadn’t come back yet. But from the footage, one of Cody’s employees had left a gnarly gash on his right forearm. “Can you roll up your sleeve for me?”
“Nyet. It’s not me. You’ve made a mistake.”
“That’s fine,” I said, leaning both hands back on the table. “We have search warrants being processed as we speak. For both of your businesses and your home.”
His face flushed red, and he pounded a fist against the metal surface before going off into a Russian tirade. He called me a whore and said I’d be better off on my knees sucking his dick than pretending to be a cop. The insults didn’t faze me in the least. Unfortunately, I was used to the sexual innuendos, the sleazy looks, and lewd offers. I’d heard and seen it all.
“Mr. Belov, calm down,” the other man cautioned as he stood.
Yuri was in a rage. He shoved his lawyer, making him stumble backward. I signaled for backup into the two-way mirror as Belov seemed to be spiraling out of control.
In a sudden flash of movement, the Mafia underboss pulled a blade from between his belt and grabbed me, pressing it to the side of my neck. Sam and six more officers barreled into the room, their weapons drawn.
“I’ll kill this bitch! Put your guns on the floor and let me go.”
“Yuri,” I said, my voice breaking, “please, don’t do this. Put the knife down.” Tears streamed down my cheeks, wetting his arm. I made eye contact with my partner, sending a subtle wink his way.
Of course, I was scared shitless. The man was unhinged, but I had to play it up. Play the part he expected from me to buy some time.
He cackled close to my ear, whispering in Russian how he wished to fold me over the table and fuck me while I begged for my life.
Having had enough of his shit, I executed the maneuver I’d practiced dozens of times for a knife-to-the-throat scenario. I gripped his hands and pulled in a downward motion as I tucked my body into his and under his arm. Caught off guard, his reaction time was slow at first, but just as I tried to slip away, he attempted to twist the blade and stab me. I was ready for him, though. Using his own momentum against him, I pushed his knife-wielding hand into the side of his abdomen, plunging the blade beneath his ribs. Yuri howled in pain and fell to his knees.
Several officers dogpiled him while Sam pulled me into the hallway.
“Cruz, you’re hurt. Sit down. Paramedics are on the way.”
I shook my head, fighting against his attempts to put me in a chair.
“You didnotcall an ambulance. Sam, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
My protests died on my lips when I finally registered a warm trickle sliding down my neck. Sam pressed a small towel against my wound.
“He cut you. It doesn’t look too deep, but it’s better to take precautions. How are you feeling?”
Fuck. I hadn’t even felt that asshole cut me, which meant I was high as a kite on adrenaline. I knew the spike was coming. Maybe it was the stress of it all still fresh and hanging over my head that made me feel like it was creeping. Either way, I needed my kit. To make matters worse, I hadn’t replaced my pump this morning. I needed a bolus of insulin and the mental preparation to deal with the next several hours.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
DEREK
Having broken a handful of traffic laws, my car skidded to a halt in the driveway of Evangelina’s home. News had leaked of an assault on an officer at the 9th precinct. When my texts had gone unanswered and my calls straight to voicemail, I jumped in my car and raced over. The need to see her, to know she was all right, was frighteningly overwhelming. I charged up the steps, taking them two at a time, and curled my fists, resisting the urge to pound on the door.
Stabbing at the doorbell instead, I waited for what seemed like a fucking lifetime until the sound of the locks pulled a sigh of relief from my lungs.
“Derek?” Her voice was hoarse, eyes squinting against the bright porch lights.
She’d been asleep. But she was okay and in one piece.
“What are you doing here?”
I reached for her and said nothing, tucking her into my arms, chin resting on the top of her head as emotions I didn’t know what to do with gathered in my throat.
