I glance down at my knuckles. “The wall was looking at me funny,” I tell her in an attempt to make a joke so that she doesn’t think I beat the shit out of someone and feel the need to call the cops.
But the teen’s face remains stoic. “Want a washcloth or something for that?” she offers before snapping the gum in her mouth loudly.
“Sure,” I say only because I wouldn’t want to bleed all over Savina’s food.
The girl retrieves a clean cloth, and I wrap it tightly around my hand, staunching the blood for now, as I pay for the order. I pace the floor of the small café, fuming about what Savina told me, while drawing the attention of both the customers and the staff.
“Here’s your order, sir,” the girl says several minutes later.
“Thanks,” I tell her before tipping her a hundred-dollar bill. Then, I book it out of the coffee shop, the girl’s excited squeal over my generous tip traveling out the door with me as I walk out onto the street and towards Savina’s apartment.
I leave the bags of food and coffee at her doorstep, sending her a text on my way out, ordering her to open the door and eat what I left for her. Then, my feet carry me as quickly as they can down the sidewalk and to my parked motorcycle. I swing my leg wide until I’m straddling the seat. I quickly slip my helmet on and rev the engine. The world is a blur to me as my bike screams down the busy streets, weaving in and out of traffic and not giving a fuck about signs or stoplights. I need to find out the truth about this whole situation from my father, and I’m not wasting another minute before getting to the bottom of it all. The only thing I know for certain is that someone is going to die today. They are going to pay with their life for what they did toprivighetoarea mea mica.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Dimitri
I BURSTINTO my father’s office unannounced, and he’s grabbing for his pistol strapped under his desk before I even make it two steps inside. When he realizes it’s just me, he sets the gun on his desk and breathes a sigh of relief. “Dimitri, you know better than to scare your old man like that.”
“You hired a doctor to examine Savina,” I grit out through clenched teeth. I’m not here for fucking chit-chat. I want to get straight to the point. “Why did you do that?”
“To make sure your brother isn’t getting damaged goods,” he says nonchalantly before pouring himself two fingers of whiskey from the bottle that never leaves his desk.
I could start spewing on about how we don’t live in fucking medieval times when this was probably common practice, but I know it would fall on deaf ears. “Did you ask him to take pictures too?” I demand, my hands curled into fists at my sides. I’ve neverhit my father before, but I’m not past that point today. If he says the wrong thing, I will make sure he’s eating through a fucking straw for the next few months.
“Pictures? Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why the hell would we need pictures?” he asks, confused.
I study his face for deception but find none there. “He took pictures of Savina during the exam.” I can barely contain my anger as I grit out, “The bastard touched her inappropriately.” My father’s brows rise high on his forehead as a deep frown mars his face. I’m happy that this news displeases him. Because if he had any other reaction, I don’t know if I would have been able to control my next actions. “I want the doctor’s name and address,” I say, my voice deceptively calm.
“Are you going to kill him?” he asks.
I simply give him a nod. It’s the truth, and I’m not going to hide that from my father.
“Just make sure to take care of any evidence,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I don’t want anything linked back to me or this family.”
“Consider it done,” I tell him.
I watch as he scrawls a name and address on a piece of paper before sliding it across his desk to me. I snatch it before stalking out of his office. On the way to my bike, I look down at the paper, and my eyes zero in on the name. “Well, Dr. Pershick, today is not your lucky day.”
I park my motorcycle a couple of blocks away and make my way to the address in the cover of darkness. This part of town is old and rundown. Most of the houses sit vacant with overgrown yards and junk strewn about. I tighten the backpack straps around my shoulders and make my way towards the doctor’s home.
When I reach my destination, I double check the address my father wrote down. Yep, this is it. Cocking a brow, I look up at thetwo-story home. The white siding is stained with mold, and there are vines covering almost the entire side of the old house. It’s definitely not a place where I would expect him to live, considering his profession. But I have a feeling Bradley Pershick lost his license to practice a long time ago. Now he probably just does the dirty work for the mafia and mob bosses in the area to make ends meet.
Glancing to the right and left, I see the two nearest houses have no lights on in the windows. Who knows if anyone even lives in them, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to try to keep the noise at a minimum to draw less attention. I don’t need any innocent bystanders being a part of this tonight, but I’ll do whatever I deem necessary to protect myself and my family.
It’s beginning to rain as I trudge through the backyard, and I can hear thunder in the distance.Perfect.As I approach the back door of the house, a flash of lightning streaks across the night sky. I wait for the thunder to sound, and at that exact moment, I kick my foot at the doorknob. It breaks under the weight, and then I’m pushing my way inside. The broken doorknob falls to the floor, and I pause, wait for movement or any sound coming from inside the house. Hearing none, I pull my Glock from behind my back and hold it out in front of me, maneuvering through the kitchen and then the living room.
When I near the set of stairs leading up to the second floor, that’s when I hear it.Running water.The doctor is taking a shower. My luck just keeps getting better.
I do a quick sweep of the first floor, making sure no one is lingering in the shadows. Once that’s done, I make my way up the steps. They creak and crack under my weight as I slowly ascend.
The bathroom is at the top of the stairs, and the sound of the water running is much louder now. With minimal light, I scour the second floor until I find exactly what I’m looking for.
I push open the last door in the hall and realize this is his bedroom. The air is stale with the overpowering scent of sweat, mildew and cheap cologne. In the corner of the room is a dilapidated wooden desk with acomputer.
I set my backpack down by the closet and go to the computer, powering it on. I see his cell phone perched on a wireless charger with a cable connecting the phone to the tower.
It takes a while for the sluggish machine to finally turn on. I’m expecting a password or code to unlock it, but the monitor lights up, loading everything onto the screen. Clearly, the doctor feels invincible and untouchable. He’s about to find out how wrong that actually is.
