Chapter 8
Rain lashed Sergei’sback, sweat mixing with cold as he decoded the message on his phone.Five digits, a slash, seven more Kryvaya Stal code.His thumb traced Belarusian consonants in his head.
Tiana.Foster home.Tonight.
His stomach knotted, the bodega’s empanada turning to stone.
He scanned the cramped store.Three locals at the coffee counter, an old woman eyeing beans, the clerk wiping the lottery display.Sergei pocketed the phone, edges biting his palm, fingers brushing his knife’s handle.
Mateo arranged cigarettes behind the counter, eyes meeting Sergei’s.A faint nod that was risky and could be costly.
“Gracias,” Sergei murmured, dropping bills for his coffee, leaving change.
The danger they all faced burned in his mind.Keisha audit into Coastal Futures’ adoption scam made her a prime target.Kryvaya Stal thrived on fear, examples.Tiana and Keisha would be both.His hands shook, fists clenching, nails carving half-moons.
“I don’t need your protection, Sergei.”She crossed her arms crossed, body angled to run.“I recognize the look in your eyes.”
“I was part of it,” he’d said.
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”She’d stepped back.
The bodega’s bell jingled, a teenager bumping him.Sergei checked the phone again.He should walk away.Keisha didn’t want him.She’d trusted him under his needle before she saw his truth.
Svetlana’s betrayal-eyes flashed in his mind.Never again.His heart hammered.Tiana was bait to control Keisha, a society tactic.
“Let’s move.”
He hustled Tiana and Keisha out of the bodega.A bus rumbled past, plantain fumes mixing with exhaust.
Sergei trashed the phone.
“We need that,” Keisha protested.
“Not anymore.I’ve used it for almost twenty-four hours.Anything beyond that is dangerous.”
Her eyes darted, then locked on him.“How do you know?”
“I was them.I know how they operate, which is why we have to move.”
She shook her head.“You worked for the kid-traffickers?”
“Not directly.”He replied as he checked for anything out of place.“I enforced rules.Protected interests.Punished betrayal.”
