Another daughter. Younger.
They both laugh.“My idem k ney,” the big one adds.
We go to her.
Fuck. They mean… Em.
Fucking son of a bitch!
Before I can react, they’re already turning away, heading for the exit. I’m frozen for a split second, my mind racing.
Then I snap out of it. “Hey!” I yell, but they’re already out the door.
I vault over the bar, ignoring Mack’s shout of surprise. I burst out of the Rusty Nail, the night air hitting me like a slap to the face.
Where are they? Where the fuck are they?
I spin around, scanning the street. Nothing. Just the usual Friday night crowd, stumbling drunks and late-night workers.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, fumbling for my phone. My hands are shaking so badly I nearly drop it. I hit Em’s number, pressing the phone to my ear as I start running down the street.
“Come on, Em. Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I chant.
The phone rings. And rings. And rings.
“Fuck!” I yell, nearly tripping over an uneven bit of sidewalk. I catch myself on a lamppost, scraping my palm.
That’s when I see them. Two hulking shapes disappearing down a dark alley about a block ahead.
I take off running again, my lungs burning. The phone’s still ringing in my ear, but all I can think is: Not Em. Not my little sister. I’ll die before I let these fuckers touch her.
I skid around the corner into the alley, my heart in my throat. They’re there, leaning against a sleek black car, cigarettes glowing in the darkness.
They look up as I barrel in, surprise flashing across their faces before it’s replaced by something darker. Something that makes my skin crawl.
“Look who come to play,” the big one says, flicking his cigarette away.
The lean one pushes off the car, his eyes raking over me in a way that makes me want to scrub my skin raw. Then he says something in Russian.
I don’t need to understand every word to get his meaning. Decided to join the party, beautiful?
I clench my fists, ignoring the sting from my scraped palm. “You stay the fuck away from my sister,” I snarl.
They exchange a look, then burst out laughing.
“Or what,krasotka?” the lean one asks, taking a step toward me. “You stop us?”
I stand my ground, even as every instinct screams at me to run.
“I… I have the money,” I spit out. This’ll fuck Lenny over, but it’s better than these assholes going after Em.
“Oh, now she has money,” the lean one sneers, eyes glinting dangerously.
My hand shakes as I dig into my pocket, pulling out the crumpled wad of bills. Seven hundred fucking dollars. Rent. Food. Lenny’s future. All of it, gone.
“Here,” I growl, shoving it at them. “Take it and get the hell out of our lives.”
The big one snatches it, thick fingers rifling through the cash. His face twists. “This is joke,da?”
