When Victor reappeared in town, he’d gotten rid of his father and taken over the family business. He’d probably fed him to the sharks, because like all other Russo victims, his body was never found. A man who would do that to a family member was dangerous in the extreme.
Grace told me Lucas and Terry were now worried that Victor carried a grudge against both her and Lucas for the temporary exile.
“Victor will make peace with us after he gets educated about the boss’s history.”
I nodded, understanding March’s meaning. It had been explained to me this way—overseas cemeteries contained numerous examples of people who’d underestimated the lethality of Lucas Hawk. I’d felt it the very first time I’d been introduced to him. The man’s eyes bored into you.
Ten minutes later, I startled when a man’s voice boomed across the room.
“Hey there, Kitten.” Terry had arrived.
It had been a long day, and with clients like the Barnards, a taxing one.But that wasn’t enough to stop Grace from hurrying across the room to greet Terry with a big hug and a long kiss.
I watched in awe and some jealousy. It hurt that I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t even come close.
Every day I used to hope I would see a news headline that the Boyfriend Strangler had been caught. Now I understood that it wouldn’t be enough.
My safety required that the headline say that the strangler had died in a shootout with police, or had killed himself. Only news that final would be good enough. Only then could I even contemplate searching for the kind of happily ever after Grace had, and Serena as well.
When the kiss broke and Terry came up for air, March stood and threw him a wave. I did the same and followed the big SEAL out.
Zane
With a muted ding,the little red number changed over to Peyton’s floor. I instinctively held Peyton behind me for a second while the elevator doors opened. Of course, there was no danger as I strode out first.
She followed me. “Why do you do that?”
I slowed. “Do what?”
She stopped. “Every time we get in an elevator, you get in front of me when the door opens and exit first.”
Stopping with her, I explained, “Habit, I guess. Why?”
“It’s odd because in every other way you’re a gentleman.”
“Thanks.” Thinking about it, I decided she deserved an explanation. “On deployment, we’re always most vulnerable when going through a door. We’re constrained in location with restricted visibility. The first one through is in the most danger.”
“I don’t think anybody in my building will be holding an RPG.”
I shrugged and started down the hallway. “Probably not.”
“You’ve been protecting me?”
I shrugged. “Like I said, habit.”
“Thank you.” She stepped out toward her door, leaving me to follow. A few steps later, she froze with a gasp.
When I reached her, I pulled my SIG Sauer and moved forward at the ready. “Stay here.” Somebody had kicked in the door, splintering both it and the frame and leaving it unable to close completely.
I slipped into mission mode, one-hundred-percent focused and ready for anything. If the perp was inside, I’d make sure he regretted it.
“But—” she squeaked.
I pushed her back. “You heard me.” I didn’t mean to scare her, but I said it with my firmest voice.
Toeing open the door, I advanced inside. “Stay out until I tell you,” I reminded Peyton. The last thing I needed was a hostage situation if bad guys were still inside.
The condo had obviously been searched. Things were scattered about, drawers and cabinets left open in the living room and kitchen. Luckily, this wasn’t the most severe situation I’d seen. They hadn’t gone through the house, cutting open furniture and the like.
