Alexei Page 2

  This was a busy street, especially with Mrs. Rodriguez and her big family a few houses down. Her older boys had friends over for dinner every single day. How she could afford to feed a dozen hungry mouths every night I would never understand but she did it and always with smile on her face. There had been many, many times over the years when my hungry belly had been filled by her kindness.

  “Shannon Mitchell?”

  I whirled around at the unknown male voice that called my sister’s name. Three men I had never seen before were standing in front of a double cab black truck. I didn’t like the look of them—or the tattoos I could see from this distance. I gulped nervously at the sight of all that ugly white supremacist ink. There weren’t many things that scared me but as a dark-skinned Latina girl? Facing off with these three monsters had my knees knocking together.

  The tallest of the three stepped forward. He had meaty arms and massive hands that I was sure had done a lot of dirty, mean things. “Are you Shannon Mitchell?”

  I managed not to jump when he barked at me. “No.”

  “So you’re the little sister then, huh? Shay, right?”

  I nodded silently. What the hell were these men doing here? Why were they looking for my sister? Shannon, what have you done now?

  Before I could muster the courage to ask what these guys wanted with my sister, the roar of motorcycles barreling down our street drew my attention. Normally, I tried to steer clear of the motorcycle gang that our landlord, Spider, ran with but today? Today I wanted to drop to my knees and thank the heavens for the small crew of rough, leather-clad men riding to my rescue.

  Spider killed his bike first, popped the kickstand and slowly slung his leg over the seat. He had recently cut his hair and somehow it made the Calaveras MC Vice-President look even scarier. The neighborhood had become so quiet as people watched the faceoff in my front yard. I could hear the leather of his vest creaking as he moved. His heavy boots crunched grass as he took deliberate steps between me and those terrifying men. “You boys lost?”

  “We have business here, Spider.”

  “If you have business on my property and in my territory, your boss needs to lift the white sheet off his head, pick up a phone and ask me for permission.”

  “I’ll make sure to pass that message on,” the man said. “But since we’re already here, Mueller wants to talk to her. I’m just here to pick her up for a little chat.”

  A little chat? A cold spear of terror lanced my chest. If I got into that vehicle with those men, I wasn’t going to come back whole or alive.

  Spider glanced at me. “Shay, do you know these men?”

  Feeling braver now, I shook my head. “No, sir.”

  “Do you want to go with them to meet with their boss?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want these men to leave?”

  “Yes, sir. Very much,” I added forcefully.

  He gestured to the truck. “You heard the lady. Get in your truck and get the hell off my property. You tell your boss that he needs to respect the boundaries—or else my boys and I are going to start making some visits of our own on your territory.” Spider pointed to the truck again. “Go.”

  The three men glanced at Spider’s backup, smartly ran the odds and retreated to their vehicle. The tall one shot me a warning smile before sliding behind the wheel. “We’ll be seeing you around, sugar.”

  His threat struck me cold. I gripped the handle of my purse and watched the truck disappear down the street. Two of Spider’s men, the ones who hadn’t dismounted from their bikes, followed the truck. I was relieved to lose sight of the tail lights but what would happen once I left my driveway? There was no way I could ask Spider or his men to tail me around Houston.

  As soon as the truck disappeared from view, the VP turned toward me. Hands on hips, Spider stared at me and shook his head. He had always been something of a father figure to me. I had gone to school with his daughter Marley so it had been a natural role for him to assume after my own dad had been killed in a car accident. When the apartment I had shared with Shannon had been robbed, he had packed us up and moved us into this park so we would be safe.

  “Well, hon, it looks like you’ve got some explaining to do.” Spider waved his tattooed hand in the direction the truck of white supremacists had taken. My gaze lingered on the heavy silver rings adorning his fingers. The skulls and letters were a language I didn’t speak. “How do you know those men?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You’re sure?” He narrowed his eyes in a way that warned me not to hide anything from him.

  “Positive.”

  “What about your sister?” When I waited too long to answer, Spider exhaled roughly. “Were they here looking for Shannon?”

  Reluctantly, I nodded. “I don’t know why.”

  “Considering the company she keeps, I can think of ten different reasons they might show up here and none of them are good.” He glanced toward the street and then back at me. “Those men won’t bother you again, not here at least, but you need to be careful, Shay. You tell your sister to clean up whatever mess she’s made and to do it fast. I’m not about to get tangled up in some nonsense with Mueller’s boys.”

  Mueller? The name was familiar but I couldn’t think why. Whoever Mueller was, it was clear that he was powerful and dangerous, maybe even more powerful and dangerous than Spider and his club. That didn’t bode well for me or Shannon.

  Spider stepped closer and dropped his voice so only I could hear him. “I’m about to give you some fatherly advice, Shay. I would highly suggest you listen close and do what I tell you.”

  I swallowed nervously. “All right.”

  “Get out of here.”

  The words weren’t spoken meanly or aggressively but I still shrank back with shock. “What?”

  “Pack up your things and get out of here, Shay. It’s time for you to cut ties with your sister and start your own life. Away from here,” he added forcefully. “You’re a smart girl. You’ve got drive and ambition. You need to get out of here and make something of yourself. Cut the dead weight, sugar.” He made a snipping gesture with his fingers. “Go be somebody.”

  It was probably good advice, but how was I supposed to just walk away from my sister? From the only person who had always been there for me? From the woman who had given up her dreams of cosmetology school and her own salon to raise me after Mom left?

  “You stay safe, Shay.” Spider backed away slowly. “Be smart, honey.”

  His advice given, he returned to his bike and left the street as quickly as he had appeared. I hurried to my car and fished my cell phone out of my purse as I unlocked the door on my dinged-up white sedan. The car was nearly fourteen years old but I had paid cash for it in high school and planned to drive it into the ground.

  As I waited for my sister to answer, I slid behind the wheel and tried not to freak out totally. “Come on, Shan. Pick up.”

  But she didn’t.

  My call went to voicemail and I drummed my fingers on my thigh as I waited for her greeting to end. “Shannon, call me. Like right now. It’s important. Some skinhead creeps were looking for you. I think you should get out of town with Ruben.” I rubbed my forehead and hoped the swirling pit in my stomach would stop spinning. “I don’t know what you’ve done, and I don’t really care. Just call me, okay? I’m really worried about you.”

  I dropped my phone in the cup holder and tossed my purse onto the passenger seat. I cranked the engine. It turned over with a little whine. How many times would this old beast light up for me? If I made it through the end of the year, it would be a miracle.

  Seatbelt secured, I backed out of the driveway and headed out of our neighborhood. I didn’t miss the nosy neighbors watching my car creep along the road or the way they pointed and shook their heads. There was always some sort of trouble in the park but Shannon and I had never been the source of it. I could only imagine what wild stories would be circulating the neighborhood by sunrise.
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  As I headed for I-10, I kept checking my rearview mirror and expected to see that truck following me but it never appeared. Where were they? I didn’t believe for one second that they weren’t keeping an eye on me. Those men had come to my house to rattle me—and they had succeeded. I suspected they expected me to head straight for Shannon but the joke was on them. I was going straight to work, just as planned.

  What had Shannon done to gain their attention? My thoughts rolled back to her parting words to me. Yeah, things were changing all right but not for the better. I thought of all the little scams she used to run with Ruben when I was still in high school. Stolen credit cards, fake lotteries, fake collection calls…

  “Jesus, Shannon,” I murmured as panic rolled through me again. “What have you done now?”

  When I arrived in the small parking lot outside the commercial cleaning company where I had worked since graduating high school, I called my sister one more time and sent her a series of texts in all caps.

  CALL ME. NOW. 911!

  She probably had her cell phone on silent or shoved down in the bottom of her handbag. I could practically hear her response once she did see my missed calls. She would probably laugh and tell me I was overreacting. She would insist that Ruben would fix it.

  “You had better fix this, Ruben,” I muttered while gathering up my things and leaving my car. By now, the sun had fully set and the early November chill had me shivering even with my jacket. I scurried inside the small, unremarkable building that served as the headquarters for CleanRite and quickly shut the heavy door behind me.

  Even before I reached the main room that served as a meeting and locker room, I could hear the brassy wail and growling ba-da-ba-dum of banda music. When I walked into the room, I spotted a dozen or so of my fellow coworkers grabbing their assignment sheets from the night manager and co-owner Juan.

  Pushing aside my concern for Shannon, I smiled and waved at the friendly faces that greeted me. I was just about to swipe my ID to clock in when Juan stopped me with a gentle tap on my shoulder and a confused expression. “Shay?”

  “Hey, Juan.”

  “Hey,” he replied and started flipping through the sheets of paper on his clipboard. “You’re not on the schedule tonight, Shay.”

  “I’m covering for Shannon.” I held my ID ready to swipe but didn’t finish the motion. Something in his voice made me nervous.

  His eyebrows arched toward his forehead. “Shannon? She was fired yesterday. She doesn’t work here anymore.”

  Now I was the one frowning with confusion. “She told me that she gave notice that she was going to quit.”

  Juan’s expression turned stony. “I’m sure she tells you all sorts of things, mi’ja. That doesn’t mean that they’re true.” He shook his head. “After I split you two up and put you on different crews, there were too many complaints from our clients—and not just about her lax cleaning standards.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shot me an exasperated look. “What do you think I mean?”

  There were all sorts of things I was thinking but I didn’t want to believe any of them, especially not about my sister. Worried about my own position with the company that I had faithfully served for years, I asked, “Do I need to start looking for a new job, Juan?”

  He seemed surprised by the question. “You’re one of my best employees. If I didn’t know about your plans to start your own business, I would push you into managerial training. No,” he said emphatically. “Your job here is yours until you don’t want it anymore.”

  Relief rushed through me. “Thank you, Juan.”

  He waved away my gratitude and tapped his fingers on his clipboard. “Since you’re here, would you like a few hours of overtime? I’m having hell filling a last minute cleaning call because of that concert tonight. No one is answering their phones.”

  You have no idea, I thought crossly while thinking of the way Shannon was dodging my calls.

  “Sure, I’ll take it.” Happy for some extra cash on my paycheck, I swiped my ID and clocked in for work. “Where am I going?”

  “Sarnov Luxury Autos.”

  The mere mention of the high-end dealership that sold outrageously expensive cars to Houston’s movers and shakers sent a zip of delight down my spine. An excited, tingling feeling settled in my lower belly. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see him again.

  Him.

  Alexei Sarnov.

  Last Christmas, the dangerously sexy and overwhelmingly alpha businessman had rescued me from a run-in with Houston’s most notorious drug dealer, Lalo Contreras. Alexei had faced off with Ruben, his crew and my sister to save me from what had promised to be a forced double-date from hell. He had offered me his protection that night and a promise of safe harbor.

  If you ever need anything, Shay, you come to me first. I'll take care of you.

  His gruff, deep voice echoed in my ears, even all these months later. Since that cold, wet night, we had developed an odd sort of friendship. We never interacted outside of his car dealership and my weekly cleaning visits, but I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if I asked for his help, Alexei would come through on that promise he had made to me.

  “Hey, girl!” Kylee, my best friend, greeted me by bumping her hip against mine. She flashed me one of her bubbly, sweet smiles while gathering her honey blonde hair into a high ponytail. “You want to borrow some perfume and makeup from my kit? Because I know you want to look good for that sexy Russian fox you like to make eyes at,” she mercilessly teased.

  “Hush!” I laughed it off but my cheeks were burning hot. “I do not make eyes at him.”

  “Girl, please.” She rolled her eyes at me. “You’re over there blinking all pretty at him, and he’s standing there brooding and staring at you like he wants to just eat you right up.”

  I squeezed my thighs together at the images her words evoked. Sometimes I let myself imagine that maybe, just maybe, Alexei was as infatuated with me as I had become with him. But those hopes died quickly when I considered how rich and powerful he was compared to me. He lived in a world that I would never understand. There was nothing good to come from crushing on a man who would never notice me.

  “Do you want to come over tomorrow and see the new dresses I’ve designed?” Kylee adjusted her employee lanyard. “I’m trying to decide which two or three I’m going to include in my end of year portfolio. I could use your help choosing.”

  “Sure.”

  “And maybe you could loan me some of your purses and accessories for the photos?”

  “I still owe you big time for loaning me the outfits for my graduation project earlier this year so consider it done. You can have whatever you want.”

  “What I want is for us to finally scrape together enough money to open our own boutique,” she said before giving me a rib-cracking hug. “Because I’ve had it up to here with scrubbing urinals and mopping floors!”

  “Two more years,” I reminded her. “We need two more years to save our capital, Kylee.”

  She made a face but didn’t argue. Like me, she was conservative with money and terrified of debt. After watching her parents go through a humiliating and painful bankruptcy, foreclosure and an SEC investigation that had driven her father to take his own life, she pinched her pennies so hard that poor ol’ Abe Lincoln begged for mercy.

  “Kylee! Let’s go!” Judy, one of the shift supervisors, stood in the doorway and waved her hand. “We’ve got a lot of stops to make before sunrise.”

  “I’ll see you around, chica.” Kylee playfully tugged my ponytail. “Make sure you bat those thick eyelashes of yours when you tell that Russian fox do svedaniya.”

  She was too quick for me to whack as she scampered toward the door, her giggling lighting up the room. I stuck my tongue out at her back. There was no way in the world I was going to flirt with Alexei. The odds of embarrassing myself were too high, and I valued our friendship too much.

  But as I climbed into the front
seat of the work van Manny was driving, I wondered if tonight was the night I would finally break down and ask Alexei for help.

  Chapter Two

  Alexei Sarnov blew out a noisy breath of frustration and flopped back in his desk chair. He wiped his hands down his face and rubbed at his tired eyes. His irritated gaze landed on the computer screens on his desk. His stomach swirled like a pit of black despair as he took in the evidence of what he was beginning to fear might be an attempt at full-blown theft of his clients’ financial information.

  All that money he had spent hiring Kostya’s little hacker to set up his computer system seemed to finally be paying off for him. He hadn’t been sure that investing in that blue-haired tattooed pixie was a good idea but now he thanked his lucky fucking stars he had taken Kostya’s advice. The former spy could be overly paranoid at times, but he had been right about this.

  But who would be stupid enough to try to steal from me?

  That question perplexed him the most. Although he had left Nikolai Kalasnikov’s mafia family and created a new, clean life for himself, Alexei still had a reputation as a brutal street enforcer and a businessman willing to cut his rivals off at the knees. When he discovered the identities of the people who had tried to compromise his clients and ruin his business? He was going to make them hurt.

  For now, though, he was reassured that no client information had been stolen from the finance department. And thank God for that! He had built a solid name for himself among Houston’s elite and moneyed crowd as the go-to guy for high-end luxury vehicles. If people lost their trust in him, he would lose everything. Thinking of all the hard work he had put into growing his business empire, he experienced a wave of nausea.

  He refused to lose anything. He had fought and clawed his way off the streets of Solntsevo and into the Prokhorov crime family. He had proven his loyalty and his worth and earned a spot on Nikolai’s hand-picked crew.

  Later, he has used his fists and cunning to buy his way into a better life here in Houston. From one dealership, he had grown to a string of them up and down I-45 as well a trucking company, a couple of automotive parts stores and a small fleet of tow trucks and tire service shops. He had built something real and successful. He would fight to the last breath to protect that.