JAX
WHEN Iopen the door to Dimitri and Vasilei standing on the front porch of the ranch with two men behind them, relief washes over me. I’ve been fucking pacing the floor for almost eighteen hours, waiting for them to get here.
Vasilei steps in first, a smile on his face, and grabs my shoulders to hug me. Speaking our language, he says, “Rumor is that our Brana is in love.” He pulls away and holds me at arm’s length. “I think love looks good on you, cousin. I’m happy to see you.”
Vasilei’s good humor was always something I envied. He always knows when to turn it up or down, and right now, he is trying to tell me everything is going to be okay without actually saying it. I hug him back, but he holds on just a fraction longer than he normally would.
Dimitri, not being the affectionate type, claps his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Is the transmitter still in the same location?”
That is how he operates, go directly to the issue, small talk was never his thing. His hand on my shoulder is equivalent to him telling me it will be okay.
I nod and try to hide my anxiety. Dimitri sees it and squeezes my shoulder again. “We will get her back, cousin. I already called our Pakhan, who is reaching out to Baschini to get this fucking situation under control.”
Even though he always swore against it, Dimitri got married last year, to the Pakhan’s niece, so, he has that little extra pull that might be needed.
He turns and waves his hand at the two men behind him. “I brought two of my most trusted with me. This is Andrej and Melos.”
They both give me a chin lift.
Boots scraping on the hardwood behind me have us all turning to the Harlow men. Vasilei and Dimitri step deeper into the entryway, it’s not lost on me that a clash in culture is happening right in front of me in the foyer.
“Dimitri, Vasilei, this is Marley’s brothers, Gray and Mason and her father, Mr. Harlow.” I turn to Dimitri. “Mason is my teammate I’ve told you about.”
Mason steps up and shakes their hands. His familiarity with different people and cultures throughout the world, which we experience with work, already has him at ease. Mr. Harlow follows Mason’s lead, knowing that his son would never steer him wrong.
When Dimitri shakes Mr. Halow’s hand, he switches to English. “It is good to meet you, Mr. Harlow. Brana has told us much about you and your family. Especially your Marley.”
Mr. Harlow immediately relaxes and chuckles with a shake of his head. “Unfortunately, Jax just told us about you yesterday. But it’s good to meet you, anyway.”
Dimitri’s face turns serious. “It is an unfortunate effect of being born into a cruel world, we have a habit of not showingour cards.”
Gray’s fear of the whole situation and the word ‘Bratva’ shows in the lines of concern on his face and he hangs back, watching the whole scene. I explained some of the inner workings of how my cousins operate earlier, which set him at ease some, but Gray will always be overly cautious.
Just to be a dick, Vasilei steps toward Gray while looking at me. “Is this the grumpy Gray we have heard about?”
I want to fucking punch him in the throat.
Gray scowls.
Vasilei is trying to break the tension, but he doesn’t realize that Gray is a tough nut. Dimitri scowls at Vasilei and pushes him out of the way to extend his hand to Gray. “Please excuse my cousin, he has always been a jokester.”
Taking his hand, Gray huffs. “He and Mason will get along great then.
Mason feigns offence. “Hey, now just wait a minute.”
Dimitri smiles. Holy fuck, he actually smiles. “Then you know all about what a pain in the ass they can be.”
Some of the tension around Gray’s eyes eases. “Every fucking day.”
Mr. Harlow clears his throat and leads us all into the kitchen and is the first to speak. He turns on Dimitri and asks, “So, how are we going to get my daughter back?”
Vasilei stands in his usual spot to Dimitri’s right and just behind, with his hands in his pockets. I’m willing to bet that his fingers are touching knives seated in scabbards sewn into his pants.
Our fathers taught all three of us how to hide our weapons on us when we were still in Serbia. Before they died, we all could hit a target with our knives dead-on from ten yards.
Always the largest of the three of us, Dimitri crosses hishands in front of him, making his pecs strain against his shirt. His specialty is MMA fighting, and he has his own gym in Brooklyn. It started as a way to launder money, but it turned into a great resource to train his men.
“Baschini has told his men to return the girls by sundown today, if they have not, we have permission to take matters into our own hands.” He rolls his neck from one shoulder to the other. “They are aware that we have the local Bratva ready to back us up.”
