Page 70 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

The silence comes all at once like we've killed them all. My ears ring and my lungs burn hard, and the road looks like a warzone. Gusev's men are scattered across the asphalt, some of them groaning, most of them still. Our guys move through the wreckage securing weapons and zip-tying anyone who can stillmove. We won't have long until the real border security gets here.

I press my palm against the graze on my shoulder and lean on the hood of the wrecked car. Oleg's intel was perfect, every detail. The old man delivered exactly what he promised, which is more than I believed would be true.

"Bring me one of them," I tell Mikhail, nodding toward the truck. "The one with the tattoo."

Mikhail drags the man out by his collar and drops him onto his knees on the gravel in front of me. Blood runs from a cut above his eye where his face hit the truck floor, and his hands twist against the zip ties behind his back. He looks up at me glaring, and I know he won't be easy to break.

"Where do I find Gusev?" I ask him, but the man turns his cheek and says nothing. "I'm going to ask you one more time and then I'm going to let Devid ask you, and Devid doesn't ask with words." I crouch down in front of him. "Where is Gusev right now?"

"I don't know where he is right now. He moves around. He doesn't tell us where he sleeps." The bleeding from this man's forehead is the least of his worries. If he doesn't start talking he's going to have a bullet in his skull.

"Then tell me how to reach him. Who does he talk to? Who carries his orders?" I'm already impatient. I want the man who's fucked with me dead.

The man hesitates and I nod at Devid, who steps forward and drives his boot into the man's ribs. He doubles over, gasping, and I wait for him to straighten up before I ask again.

"His lieutenant handles the crews," the man says through clenched teeth. "A man called Petrov. He runs the checkpoints and reports directly to Gusev. That's all I know about the chain."

"And where does Petrov operate from?" I'm getting nowhere. This is pointless. If Gusev is this closed off that his own men don't know how to get to him, how am I supposed to?

"He moves too. But he meets with the crews at a garage on the south end of Ligovsky before every run. That's where we got our orders tonight."

"We have Oleg Rostov," I tell him, watching his face for a reaction.

He spits on the ground near my shoe. "Then you're keeping a dead man. Gusev will kill Rostov and his daughter and her little brat kid. The whole family's marked. Gusev gave the order himself and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

Something cold locks into place behind my ribs. I release his chin and stand up. He has no idea who Aleksandr's father is. None of them do. They think they're threatening a drunk's daughter and her child, and he has no concept of what he just told me. And I don't care for men talking to me like this about my family.

"Thank you for the information," I tell him, pulling my sidearm to put a round through his forehead. The sound booms through my entire body and he drops sideways onto the gravel.

Devid stares at me. "What did you just do?" He thinks I want intel, but I don't want it bad enough to let scum speak that way about my family.

"No one threatens my family," I say, holstering the weapon. "Get the others to the warehouse for questioning. Whatever it takes to get them talking." I picture many of these men with a few less fingers by the time my guys are done.

I walk away, satisfied that after tonight Gusev will be very aware that I'm fighting back. And hopefully the men we've taken alive will produce fruit.

The house is dark when I walk in except for the lamp in the nursery. I go straight there without stopping to take off my coat and push the door open to find Emory standing by the crib, tucking a blanket around Lex as his eyes flutter closed. She looks up at me and her expression shifts from soft to alarmed.

"Rashid, you have blood on your shirt."

"I know. It was a rough night." I don't care for the tone she uses, but I can't take out my anger on her. I have to let this night go and try to be present in this moment with her. I need her.

"Get out of this room." She positions herself between me and the crib, one hand behind her on the rail. "I don't care what happened tonight. You do not bring that into his room."

"He's asleep, Emory."

"Get out." Her voice cuts right through me. "He's two and a half years old and he doesn't need to see his father covered in blood. Whatever you did tonight stays outside this door."

I look past her at Aleksandr, who's turned onto his side with his fist curled under his chin. His breathing is slow and even; hehas no idea what went on out there, or even what blood is. She's being ridiculous.

"Come away from the crib," I tell her quietly. "He's settled. Let him sleep."

She glowers at me, but she listens and follows me into the hallway. Her head drops and she sighs hard. "This is why I didn't want him around you. I don't want him raised in this world. It's dangerous."

I ignore her comment and reach for her hand, folding my fingers between hers. "Shower with me," I say.

She blinks and scrunches her nose at me. "What are you talking about?"

"I need to wash this night off and I don't want to be alone right now." I lean closer, pressing my mouth against her forehead and letting it rest there. Nothing would feel better to me than to have her right now. I just killed for her, and she doesn't even know it. "Come with me."