Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(32)

But with Klaus wanting him dead, the likelihood of a happy reunion was slim.

“Probably looking for you. Tell me, have you done anything to get the Albanians’ attention?”

Immediately, he thought of the night he’d tried to help Alex, searching for answers to fix a situation that needed to be handled. A single night when he had almost gone too far in regards to Alex, but not far enough when it came to Bastian.

When he thought about it hard enough, he could still remember the warmth of the slick blood coating his skin when he cut Bastian’s back up, and then when he’d made it a point to cut the man’s tongue out, taking a bit too much satisfaction in watching him choke to death.

It wasn’t like the Organization didn’t know where he was…Or maybe Jetmir hadn’t bothered to share this information, and practically everyone that had been there that night was dead…except for Fatos.

Had he made a mistake by killing one of the highest-ranking members of the Organization?

Maybe.

“You want him,” Luka said, “get him yourself.”

Smirking, Klaus asked, “Is that your final answer?”

Shrugging, Luka didn’t bother answering, circling his truck to hop in, wanting to ignore Klaus entirely, but it was hard ignoring someone like him.

Shaking his head, Klaus leaned in t the passenger door window. “After all he’s done, you still won’t betray him?”

Grinding his teeth, Luka stared straight ahead, thinking of a time when things hadn’t been so complicated. “No more than I would betray Mishca.”

“Yet, one gave you life, the other took it away.”

Starting the engine, Luka put the car in drive, sparing Klaus one last glance. “We haven’t reached the end yet. That answer’s still in the air.”

____

Luka didn’t like something about motorcycle clubs. He couldn’t explain the notion, especially when he could think of a few members who he thought were okay, but the premise of them didn’t sit well with him.

Despite his reservations, Luka went in to conduct business, feeling the eyes on him as he followed the president to a back room where they worked out the remaining details. A few other men trailed behind them, but if there was one thing he was sure of, they wouldn’t try to ambush him.

While the president went to a safe embedded in the wall, punching in a code to open it up, Luka rocked back on his heels, whistling softly as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

He was ready to leave, had never particularly cared for this job at all really, but that was the name of the job. Money switched hands, product handed over, and Luka was almost out of there, but at the last moment, he glanced over when he heard the sharp sound of laughter coming from his right.

He expected some girl in way over her head being mauled by a pair of the men who called this place their home, but he wasn’t expecting that girl to be Alex. She was sitting up on a barstool, her back toward the wall though she was mostly slumped forward, her head lolling on her shoulders.

He could get past this if she were sober, if she were aware of what was happening around her. He had no right to tell her what to do, even if the sight of her with anyone else irritated the shit out of him. But the fact that she was hardly conscious as the idiot standing between her legs groped her, pulling at the straps of her dress until she was bare from the waist up, sent a familiar fury settling inside of him as his only focus became getting to her.

Luka didn’t remember dropping the bag full of cash on the ground, nor did he remember pulling out the pair of guns he always carried with him. One minute he was intent on leaving, the next he had fired off a number of rounds, perfectly calculated to hit the patched in members who were closest to Alex. They weren't kill shots despite his need for that, just close enough to get their attention.

Chaos ensued as women scattered and men grappled for their guns. Before any of them could even think of pulling the trigger, Luka was across the room, snatching the man away from Alex who was a little slow to the fact that bullets were flying.

When Luka spun him around, he cursed, his movements sluggish as he tried to get free, but undeterred, Luka palmed the back of his head and slammed him face first onto the pool table.

“You’ve got a f*cking death wish!” he grumbled as he shot back, trying to gain his footing, cupping his nose as blood flowed.

“The f*ck is your problem, Russian?” one of them demanded.

Not bothering to correct that assumption, Luka turned back to the president of this little biker gang, not giving a shit that there were at least twenty guns on him. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed uncaring of the threat on his life that made them glance at each other, unsure of what he was capable of.

They had no idea.

Nodding his head in Alex’s direction, Luka said, “She’s coming with me.”

“Bullshit,” the one who’d been with Alex said as he circled the table, more sure of himself now that he had his little army. “I say she f*cking stays. Why don’t we ask her who she wants to stay with.”

The question only managed to piss Luka off more. “You don’t know who she is.”

“If she’s your bitch,” the president said, “then learn how to control her.”

She wasn’t Luka’s at all, but the words were at the tip of his tongue. “She’s Volkov’s little sister.”