“I know what you’re alluding to…and yes, he’s in the same world as my brother, but Sergey’s not like that with me.”
Roland sighs. “But you worked so hard to stay away from that kind of thing, and now you’re quite literally married to one of them. I know I agreed to come here, but I’m worried about you, Kat. I’ve been around Yuri’s men before, and I know what they’re like. Just because Sergey’s from another family, it doesn’t mean he’s any different.”
“I know,” I tell him again, trying to be as placating as I can be while still standing my ground. “But I just need you to trust me. A lot has happened, and I wouldn’t be this civil with Sergey if I didn’t think things might work out. He’s not as bad as you think.”
Finally conceding, Roland nods and returns to his place under the lifted frame. “Alright, alright…fine. This is me giving everything a chance and taking your word for it.” He lifts a brow and points the wrench at me. “But if he does anything remotely close to hurting you, I’ll kick his ass.”
My lips pull at that, and I nod. “I know you will.”
With a mutual understanding, we slip back into our usual rhythm, busying ourselves with our respective projects.
By late afternoon, the front door chimes, pulling me from my work.
I glance up, wiping my hands on a rag and pulling my mask down as two men step in from the front. They’re both dressed like they don’t belong. Their clothes are too clean, and almost too put-together to be car guys.
One’s tall and broad, with a shaved head and sharp eyes. The other is leaner with a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He nods towards me in a subtle greeting.
“Are you Kat?" the broader one asks, approaching with a friendly-enough smile, but it’s enough to make me pause.
"That’s me," I reply, standing straighter. I put the spray gun down and glance over to Roland, where he idly works while keeping an eye on the exchange.
“I heard you’re the one running the show here. We’re looking for someone to do some custom work on a couple of our bikes. It’s nothing crazy…just a few paint jobs for our friends. Do you take walk-ins?"
“That depends on the job," I say, eyeing them both carefully.
Something about the lean one’s expression sets off a quiet alarm in my head, and I feel as my usual guard goes up. He’s not looking at me, but instead, he’s scanning the place, taking in our work and the tools around us. He lingers on one of the workbenches and takes slow steps closer.
"We’re just scoping things out," the first guy adds quickly to divert any uncertainty, likely noticing my hesitation. “We heard this place just opened and thought we’d stop by to see if you were taking on clients.”
"Sure," I say slowly, lingering by my station while I try to keep an eye on both of them without bringing too much attention to myself. “Names?”
"Mike," the broad one says before hiking his thumb over his shoulder. “And that’s Chris.”
Chris doesn’t bother looking at me. Instead, he moves closer to Roland, slipping out of my view while asking him a question. The moment I can’t see him, my stomach drops.
“Something wrong?” Mike asks, grinning in a way that makes my skin crawl on instinct.
But the moment I meet his gaze, I catch a loud crash behind me.
Whipping around, I watch as Roland hits the floor, slumping against the car frame next to where he was working. Chris appears from around the other side with a bigger wrench clutched in his hand.
He just…there’s no way…
"Roland!" I shout as an immediate flood of adrenaline propels me forward, but Mike grabs me roughly from behind before I can slip away.
"Don’t make this harder than it needs to be," he growls in my ear, dropping that false friendliness from before.
Not giving in, I thrash, elbowing back as hard as I can, but it’s almost impossible to find purchase. “Let me go now—”
“There’s no point shouting for help either,” Chris adds casually while he steps over Roland’s unconscious body. "We took care of your pesky guard before we came in."
Panic rises in my chest hard and fast. The one line of defense I had is gone, and it’s just me now. There’s nobody else to help.
Immediately, my head jumps to him. To Sergey.
This is exactly why he wanted me to have security in the first place, and he’s going to lose his mind.
I shout anyway, kicking and twisting as best as I can, recalling the defense training I once had, but as hard as I fight, it’s useless.
