“I did my job,” he insisted.
“Yourjobwas to keep Maria safe.” I grabbed the back of his neck and marched him over to Maria’s body. “Does she look fucking safe to you, Mikhail? Look at her!” Her eyes were pale and foggy, evidence she’d been dead for at least a few hours. “Fuck!”
“Shit, Boss. I didn’t see or hear a fucking thing.” Mikhail swore but I was too angry to do anything other than punch him.
I looked around the room at each of my men, wondering which of them had betrayed me. Which of them had taken Maria from me? Maria who would never get to meet my child. “Shit.” She also wouldn’t be around to care for him. So Voronov hadn’t just taken my family and my oldest friend, but he was also trying to take my future.
April.
“I walked the perimeter regularly and I checked on her until she went to bed at midnight. I swear.”
I couldn’t deal with Mikhail, not now. Not him or the other men who were supposed to protect Maria last night. “Ivan call the police. Everybody who worked last night, go home. Don’t talk to anyone. Maxim, we need to go. Now.” If Voronov knew about Maria, then he might know about April.
I had to get to her.
Had to protect her.
Her and my baby by any means necessary.
She wouldn’t like it, but it had to be done.
Chapter Thirteen
April
“Ihave pizza and I’m on my way over,” Kelsie’s voice sounded through the speakerphone while I sat in traffic on my way home from work. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“I literally haven’t said one word,” I answered around a yawn. Growing a baby was exhausting. I’d done nothing all day but sit at my desk and work, yet I was as tired as if I spent the whole day being physically active. “I like pizza.”
“That’s why I got pizza. I knew you couldn’t resist, and you haven’t said much about how you’re feeling. Mentally and physically.” The worry in her tone was evident, and I knew that sleep would have to wait.
“I’m tired but I’m okay, Kels.”
“Then that’s what I’ll see when I get to your place. Gotta make another call, but I’ll see you in about twenty, yeah?”
“I’ll be there.” Probably asleep or just curled up on the sofa trying hardnotto sleep. I ended the call. Once we passed a fender-bender, the traffic began to move. The window was down, and the warm breeze was nice against my skin, and it helped me keep my eyes open.
Suddenly I had a weird feeling that I was being followed, which was ridiculous because who would be following me? Even as I tried to talk myself out of it, I decided to get off the main drag that provided a shorter path to my house and take the shortcut that wasn’t technically a shortcut. There were fewertraffic lights and less traffic, but it was all residential streets which meant a lower speed, speed bumps and stop signs.
The black sports car turned right when I did and then left when I did. And my heart kicked into high gear. “Am I being paranoid?” I knew that I was but still, I made an abrupt left turn and a quick right.
The black car stayed behind me, matching me, turn for turn.
My hands gripped the steering wheel, and I pressed the gas as much as I could without becoming a danger on the road. Home was just two blocks away, so I kept my eyes on the road, with only the occasional flicker into the rearview mirror. Every little flicker showed the black car was behind me until I pulled over to park and he—I assumed it was a man—cruised past me slowly but the window tint was too dark to make out who the person was.
“Fucker,” I grumbled to myself. My hands shook as I pushed open the door and grabbed my bag, my mind still on that guy. Was it just some road raging asshole trying to scare me or was it someone I knew?
I tried to shake it off, but the fear lingered and only made me more tired as I dragged my body up the steps and froze.
My door was slightly open, just enough to notice from a few feet away but not from the street. I whipped around to see if anyone was there watching me, specifically if the creeper in the black sports car had returned.
He was nowhere to be seen, and the block was mostly quiet aside from a few strains of music that played down the block. I turned back to the door, took a deep breath and pushedthe door open. I took one step inside and stilled at what I saw. Someone had broken in and vandalized my home. There was spray paint on the walls, the furniture cushions were split open, and all the stuffing was scattered over the rug and the wooden floor beneath. Lamps were overturned and the overhead light fixture was shattered on the floor in hundreds of pieces.
“What? Who? Why?” There was a snare drum inside my chest trying to beat its way out as I took in the damage. My hands shook even more, and I was too stunned to move, to speak, to think.Grab your phone and call the police, I told myself.Call the police and get out now.
I pulled out my phone and called nine-one-one as I left my destroyed living room and knocked on my brother’s door. By the time Jacob opened the door looking bored and slightly annoyed, the call was over. “I’m fine April.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not here for you. Someone broke into my place and vandalized it. Can I come in?”
