Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)(33)

Hanging up—the good doctor hadn’t answered—Kaz finally withdrew his weapon, already dialing another number, getting to his feet.

“Stay with him.”

Nathaniel didn’t question the command, just did what was asked of him and remained where he was. Just as Kaz had done, Nathaniel checked him over for injuries.

Turning away, Kaz was brimming with fury by the time Vasily picked up, and when he did, he didn’t waste a second. “We’ve got a f*cking problem.”





Once again, Kaz found himself with a cigarette between his lips, fighting the urge to do violence. He had expected the nicotine to help, if only for a spell, but it did nothing. But he wasn’t out committing murder, so it must have been doing something.

Back inside his house, Ruslan was getting checked out by Marcus Fray, their resident doctor, and one of the few men that knew secrets about them but wasn’t officially a part of their organization. Kaz had stuck next to Ruslan the entire time, at least until his brother had demanded he go away once he’d come around.

That’d been ten minutes ago, before Kaz’s cigarette, and—as the door to his place opened—before Vasily’s arrival.

Tossing the butt over the railing, Kaz headed back inside.

Ruslan’s face was clean of blood, though the bruising was bad, as was his chest. Now that his clothes were gone—doctor’s orders—it was far easier to see what all had been done to him, considering he was already bruised and it had only been an hour.

It wasn’t just fists that had been used on him—Kaz knew firsthand the kind of impressions those made on the body. A bat, probably, judging from some of the large markings, especially along his back. But despite the obvious pain he had to be in, Ruslan didn’t complain. That wasn’t his style.

Vasily glanced in Ruslan’s direction, taking in the multitude of his bruised body before he frowned. “What happened?”

Ruslan, who had grown used to Vaily ignoring his presence entirely, was slow to realize that Vasily was asking him the question. Kaz leaned against the island in his kitchen, folding his arms across his chest as he waited for the answer he wanted to know as well.

“There were five of them in front,” Ruslan explained. “One came at me from behind with a f*cking aluminum bat.”

It seemed Kaz was right about that. “Did you recognize them?”

“Not immediately, but they were f*cking Italian. That was clear enough before the idiot in the front introduced himself. Can you believe that shit?” Ruslan ran a hand over his mouth, scowling when he caught sight of the blood on the back of it. “Said his name was Franco.”

Kaz was mildly impressed. Even he didn’t go about announcing his name when he came to make a point, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with arrogance—which Kaz had in spades—but more to do with stupidity. “What the f*ck was his problem?”

“Something about a girl—his girl, apparently.” Now, it was to Kaz that Ruslan looked, a hint of accusation there. “The girl, whatever the f*ck her name was, that I took home that night, she told him I drugged her.”

No one spoke a word—there was no reason to. If there was one thing they all knew, even Vasily, the likelihood of him drugging a woman was nonexistent.

“What are we doing about it?” Kaz asked, cutting to the chase.

All eyes turned to Vasily, waiting for his response.

After a brief hesitation, he gave them their answer. “Nothing. You’ll do nothing.”

“Are you out of your f*cking mind?” Kaz asked pushing off the island to cross the floor and stand toe-to-toe with Vasily. He didn’t care that the others were quick to excuse themselves, knowing what was coming next. “You make your point about boundaries and lines, getting on my ass about it, but now you want to let this go? Fuck that.”

“I’ve allowed your blatant disrespect—ignored your petulant behavior. If you want me to treat you like a child, Kazimir, I will. When I say stand down, that’s exactly what I mean. Stand down. I am not to be questioned. This is not a f*cking democracy. You do what I say, when I say it, or so help me, Kazimir—even if it breaks your mother’s heart—I will put a bullet in your f*cking skull. Now mind me and leave it.”

With that parting remark, Vasily took his leave.

Once the door was shut, leaving Kaz and his Ruslan alone, Kaz looked to his brother. Before he could speak, Ruslan shook his head, coming over to sit on the couch, wincing as he slowly sat.

“One day he’s not going to be so nice,” Ruslan warned, grabbing the remote and reclining back like he hadn’t just had the shit beat out of him. “You shouldn’t goad him.”

“Fuck him.” This wouldn’t be the first time Kaz had said those words. “You know I’m right.”

“You may be, but you can’t change his mind. I don’t see why you try.”

Ruslan was always the rational one, imploring logic even when Kaz didn’t like to hear it. That was why, after all, he was the older brother.

“How are the ribs, brat?”

“They’d feel better if someone pried them the f*ck out of me,” Ruslan admitted.

Damn.

Kaz took a seat beside his brother, careful not to drop down too fast and cause Ruslan more agony. “The girl, they said.”