Time Stood Still (Volkov Bratva #3.5)(5)

He was new and older than Lauren—probably around Mishca’s age—and worked for Roman. Only when Luka was preoccupied, and he happened to be in the area did he stay around Lauren for any length of time. Unlike most of the others that Lauren had come across, Alik didn’t have the Russian accent. In fact, he sounded like he was born and raised in the heart of Brooklyn. She couldn’t explain it, but he reminded her of Luka. Maybe it was the blond hair, or the way an air of menace seemed to surround him—or just the fact that while the others made a point to dress impeccably, he and Luka were the only two in street clothes. Except, while Luka had a long mane of curling hair, he had nothing on Alik’s. He always kept his hair out of his face, pulled back into a man bun that worked for him.

Alik seemed nice enough, though he didn’t talk much, and seemed to have a rather quiet intensity about him.

“Shouldn’t you be letting them handle this?” He asked casually, still trailing her.

Lauren didn’t see Roman in the near vicinity, so she wasn’t quite sure why he was still there. “I’m sure you’ve already sent Mishca a message or something by now,” she said with a small smile.

He shrugged because they both knew she was right. “Can you at least let me handle it? Your Boss wouldn’t like anything happening to you, right?”

And that was another peculiar thing about him. He either referred to Mishca by name, but when he was talking to her, he always referred to Mishca as “her Boss.”

“Of course.”

When they got closer, it was much easier for them to get to the front since the crowd parted easily for her. A man with a face reddened by anger, his hands in fists, tendons sticking out in his arms, looked like he was ready to shove through the bouncers.

Placing a hand on Steven’s shoulder as a silent stand down, Lauren smiled pleasantly, not deterred by the man’s anger.

“Can I help you?”

“Who the f*ck are you?”

There was something particularly unthreatening by someone she knew wasn’t a part of the life she was now involved in. Was it still dangerous? Yes, but this man, whoever he was, had nothing on some of the few individuals she knew personally.

Seeming to not really care about the question he’d just asked, he went on. “Where is Christina?”

In just seconds, Lauren looked him over, assessing his mental state. His eyes were dilated, sweat beading at his brow, and considering the fact that he’d wiped his nose at least five times since she came upon him, he was more than likely high on something.

“Hold on.” Lauren made a show of looking around, not truly expecting to find someone by that name, but towards the back of the crowd, she saw a girl partially concealed by a number of people that were too busy observing the man to notice her.

The fear in her eyes was clear and even clearer was the fact that she was the girl that he was looking for.

“Considering I know everyone here by name, I can assure you there is no Stephanie here. If there is anything else…”

Wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve, he shook his head hard. “I saw that bitch run in here.”

He made the mistake of taking a step forward, like he meant to move Lauren out of the way, Alik had his hand against the man’s chest, shoving him back a few inches.

Shoving Alik back too—who barely moved an inch—the man was clearly in the mood for a fight, even if he now had to fight someone of the same strength. Alik, who who was definitely reminding her of Luka as he readied for a fight, was ready to launch himself at the man until two things happened.

One, Lauren ordered him not to, if only because bailing him out for attacking a civilian would take a lot of time and unneeded attention—though if they were being honest, he really didn’t have to listen to her.

Second, Mishca and Roman were right behind her, both formidable in their own way, and if she were on the other end of that untapped rage, she would definitely be afraid.

Mishca’s hand went to the small of her back first, his way of telling her that he was handling it now. “Poyti—Go.”

Even though she knew of what he did and how he did it, he still didn’t like for her to see it.

Turning on her heel, Lauren headed back towards the bar, but stopped, whispering to Alik, “That girl in the corner, that’s who he’s looking for.”

She gestured with a tilt of her head, and as he scanned the crowd for who she indicated, nodding once.

Not waiting for him, she went back to her seat, glad for the cover that the crowd was providing though it was clearing up now that Mishca had taken the belligerent man from the entryway. Since the shooting—a night they would never forget—he was careful to keep the clubs as clean as possible, so however he had gotten this situation taken care of, Lauren probably didn’t think she wanted to know.

When Alik came over with the girl, tapped the bar with his hand before making himself scarce. She stood there stiffly, her arms folded across her chest, continuously looking over her shoulder.

“You’re safe for the moment. Christina, yes?”

Almost reluctantly, she nodded. “I’m sorry about this, I—”

“Oh, don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault. Not at all. Can I get you something?”

She shook her head vehemently, her shoulder length purple hair swaying. “No, thanks. A friend of mine is picking me up. The big guy at the door told me I could sit until she got here. My bags are still over there.”