“Laurent’s men.”
The glow of his phone’s screen makes his blue eyes look translucent when his gaze snaps up. “Mathis Laurent?”
I nod. “Katalina is dead.” That’s what Pyotr called me about.
Michael, Laurent’s former right-hand, staged a coup and took over his organization, vowing to get revenge for those responsible for Mathis’s death. Katalina was the one who actually killed her father, so he went after her first, but Syn stabbed Mathis in the eye with a cocktail fork at the gala after he backhanded Katalina, which is why the dumb fuck came after her. He’ll soon regret that bad decision.
Lifting the trunk door to the Escalade, he pokes his head inside, then shuts it. “Syn is going to flip when she finds out.”
I glower at him. “It’s Christmas and her birthday. Her need-to-know can wait a few days.”
Hendrix returns my glower and raises it with crossed arms over his chest. “She’ll take your concern and kick your ass with it. Besides, there are dead bodies and a crashed SUV blocking the road. I think she’ll notice.”
Good point. I text Pyotr.
Me: I’m taking you up on your offer. Tell Diesel I’ll compensate him and his men for their time. I also need a clean-up crew here within the hour.
His reply is instantaneous, like he was waiting for me to contact him.
Pyotr: Already called Diesel the moment we hung up. Dad will have a crew out there as soon as possible. How bad?
Puddles of blood mar the graveled dirt and grass as snowflakes begin to drift down from the heavy blanket of clouds overhead.
Me: Five bodies and a large SUV.
Pyotr: I’d feel better if I was there with you.
Because Hendrix is a nosy shit, he blatantly reads what I’m typing. “I forgot you were mafia.”
“I am not mafia.” Mafia is mostlycosa nostra. He should know. Syn’s cousin, Andie, grew up in that world.
Me: Hendrix is standing right here. We’ve got it covered.
Pyotr: Hey, fuckwad.
Hendrix barks out a laugh and starts walking up the road. “My balls are starting to freeze. See you back at the house.”
Me: He’s gone.
My phone rings. “I’m serious about coming. I don’t trust them.”
Ride-or-die friends like Pyotr are rare in this world. “I promise, I’m good. Find out where Micheal is hiding.”
Because I’m going to kill him.
“Hold on…” I hear voices in the background. “Mom said to tell you Merry Christmas and that there’s a big present under the tree that you have to come get in person because she misses you.”
Leaning against the side of the SUV, I smile. “Tell her Merry Christmas, and I promise to come visit soon.”
I jump when Syn pops up right next to me. “Merry Christmas, Pyotr!” she says and hits the End Call button on my phone.
“How did you?—”
Her heart-shaped face is a mask of pissed-off beauty. “Tell me everything that happened before I dropkick you into New Year’s.”
“Told you,” Hendrix says, chuckling from the darkness.
Twenty-Six
