Toly grasps the chin of one of the women with one hand, his other hand reaching into her shirt to grab her breast. When she struggles, he laughs and backhands her in the face.
I grip the binoculars. “Get photos. Of all of them.”
After Gunnar gets the photos, and the women are shoved into the back of the truck, we carefully make our way back to the car.
“What now?” Gunnar asks, his bulky frame squeezed into the seat beside me.
I shove the beater car into drive, furious that the Bratva have obviously been trafficking here for a while, right under Santino’s nose. “Now we follow that truck.”
The truck navigates the roads slowly, moving east down Commerce Street to a nearby storage unit. We sit in the shadows and watch as the soldiers transfer the crates of car parts and weapons to a large outside unit, and the women to a black van.
Then we follow that van to a rundown house in an unsavory neighborhood, where they are shuttled inside.
One of the women falls and earns a kick in the head by a soldier. I grip the steering wheel to keep from pulling out my gun and ending his miserable life. Another soul that the Beast wants to send to hell.
“Theirdays are numbered, Sandro.” Gunnar’s videoing the whole thing.
“When did you become the level-headed one?” I tap the steering wheel. Something is bothering me. “They aren’t exactly discreet about the women. Makes me wonder why Zerilli couldn’t get proof in the nine months he’s supposedly been trying.”
“He is sick. Maybe he’s just not up to the task.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
We’re driving down I-275. I’m squeezing the steering wheel, in a full-out war with my thoughts. They should be focused on dealing with the Russians. But Lennon has once again consumed my attention.
“Fuck it.” I swerve across two lanes of traffic, earning an angry horn blow from a Cadillac I almost sideswipe, and take the next exit.
I feel Gunnar staring at my profile. His voice is tinged with amusement as he says, “Need to use the little boy's room?”
I rake my hand down my face.Fuck. What am I doing?“I just want to check on something.”
We pull into the Metro Diner parking lot, and I shut off the engine. I shouldn’t be here. But as I watch Lennon through the window, standing at a table, talking to an elderly couple—the only customers—there’s nowhere I’d rather be. She tosses her hair back, laughing and I want to hear that laugh again more than I want to breathe.
Gunnar shifts in his seat to face me, which I know is difficult in the small vehicle. “Sandro.”
“Yeah?”God, she’s beautiful. This animated, gentle, sweet woman I’m watching.My chest tightens uncomfortably. A tiny ember ignites in my cold, black heart. It’s a new and painful sensation.
“Remember when you asked me when I became the level-headed one? It was the day this woman left you and took your sanity. Your anger ate you alive. Why are you putting yourself through this again, brother?”
I just shake my head because I have no fucking clue. I’m still angry. And yet…
His sigh fills the car as his head hits the back of the seat. “Wake me up when you’re done torturing yourself.”
Lennon spins around and makes her way back to the counter, and I get a view of her ass swaying in a pair of tight jean shorts. My cock twitches.
I’m so fucked.
It’s not like I haven’t had sex in the last decade. But it’s always been at the Dungeon, in a room with a redhead that I could fuck from behind and imagine it was Lennon.
As I’m trying to talk myself into leaving, a man in a black hoodie materializes from the side of the building and glances around. I know he can’t see us sitting here inside the car because of the dark tint. He yanks open the diner door.
I sit up.
Lennon is at the cash register. She does a double take and her body stiffens.
I smack Gunnar in the chest. “Head’s up.”
We watch as the man’s long strides take him straight to Lennon. He pulls a gun from where it was tucked in his jeans beneath the hoodie and points it at her face.
