She clenched her jaw but didn't fight with him. Not now, at least. There was no doubt in his mind that she would give him the tongue-lashing of a lifetime later.
Kostya finally answered. Sounding sleepy, he quickly perked up as Dimitri gave him the bare details in the language only they could understand. As always, Kostya came through for him. "Ten minutes."
Dimitri pulled his ear away from the phone as it went dead on the other end. "Kostya is on his way. He'll stay with you, Benny, while I take Johnny to see the doctor."
She gulped as she moved to her brother's side and cradled his sweaty head in her hands. "The doctor?"
He nodded and kept pressure on Johnny's wounds. "He's on Nikolai's payroll. I trust him to fix Johnny and keep his mouth shut."
"But why?" Benny looked so terribly conflicted. "Why do we have to keep our mouths shut? Why can't we just call 9-1-1 and get the police and an ambulance over here?"
"They'll kill us," Johnny interjected, his voice weak and breathless.
"Who?" She gently rubbed her brother's cheek. "Who did this to you?"
He shook his head, refusing to answer.
"Johnny, please—"
"No, Benny. You don't need to know. The less you know, the safer you are."
Dimitri found some respect for Johnny. For the first time in a long time, he was finally putting someone else before himself. If he told Benny details, she wouldn't be able to lie to the police who would be sniffing around soon enough. She'd cave under pressure and put a target on her own back. If the people who shot at Johnny thought she could finger them, they wouldn't hesitate to take her out to protect themselves either.
"Benny, hold these towels on his wounds. I need to get dressed."
She moved next to him and put her hands over his. He tugged his hands free and brushed a kiss against her cheek before standing. Hurrying into the bedroom, he grabbed clothes from the closet and shut the door, hiding the evidence of their amorous night.
He was pulling on his shoes when there was another knock at the door. Certain it was Kostya but refusing to take any chances, he picked up the gun he'd set down near the door and glanced through the peephole. Kostya's familiar shape greeted him. He unlocked the door and ushered his friend inside.
Kostya's gaze fell to the bloody smears on the floor. His jaw hardened but he said nothing. A man of few words, he didn't need to ask what had happened or what needed to be done now. He'd come prepared, wearing blue hospital scrubs and surgical coverings over his shoes.
His friend trailed him into the kitchen where Benny talked soothingly to Johnny and pressed hard on his oozing wounds. Kostya took one look at the bloody scene and nodded stiffly. "No problem, Dimitri. I'll take care of this."
Relieved to have Kostya's help, Dimitri grabbed trash bags and duct tape from the pantry. He secured the makeshift trauma dressings in place and wrapped the trash bags around them to keep blood from leaking out all over the place. Kostya addressed him in their shared language and asked for Dimitri's keys. After swiping them from the pile of clothing on the floor, he left the apartment, no doubt to secure a shower curtain or tarp over the front seat of Dimitri's truck.
Alone with Benny and her brother, he slid a bloodstained hand along her waist and pulled her close. He could practically smell the fear spilling off of her. "Kostya will keep you safe while I'm gone. Do whatever he tells you, Benny. I'm going to get Johnny patched up and stow him someplace safe." He glanced at her brother who seemed to be hanging on fairly well. "I swear to you, Benny. I will keep him safe."
With a terrified sob, she threw her arms around his neck. "Please be careful. Both of you," she begged. "I can't lose you both."
"You won't." He kissed her then, pressing all his love for her into it. His lips moved to her forehead. "It will be all right, lyubimaya moya."
She sniffled and nodded weakly before turning to her brother. She gripped his bloody hand in hers. Tears dripped down her face. "Johnny, I love you."
He rolled his eyes and tried to make light of the situation. "I'm okay, Benny. It's nothing. You'll see."
Kostya returned to the apartment. Dimitri didn't want to prolong the awful parting of the two siblings so he lifted Johnny off the floor and carried him out of the kitchen and across the living room to the door. He didn't pause at the threshold to his apartment.
No, he kept moving. He moved with stealth and silence, hurrying to the open door of his truck and placing Johnny on the seat. The kid groaned in agony but didn't fight him when he buckled the belt around him. Checking both ends of the street and the parking lot, Dimitri saw nothing out of the ordinary. Hopefully Johnny hadn't been followed. If he had…
"No one knows I'm alive, man."
Dimitri threw the truck in drive and hit the gas. "You're sure?"
"Yeah, man. Benny's car? It's fucking toast."
"Toast? What do you mean?" He shot Johnny an annoyed look. "You were driving your sister's car?"
"I took it this evening, after our fight."
Reminded of how Johnny had come at Benny during their argument, Dimitri informed him, "You're lucky you've been shot. If you ever slam your sister into a wall again, I'll shoot you myself—and I won't fucking miss."
"I'm sorry." Johnny's whispered apology wasn't enough but it was a start. "I really screwed this up, Dimitri."
"Yes, you did."
"I saw the other car too late." Johnny's voice had a far-off quality. "You were right, man. I should have stayed inside."
"What happened?" Unlike Benny, he needed to know every single detail. "Tell me everything. I can't help you and I sure as hell can't keep Benny safe if you lie to me."
"This upstart crew is trying to push into our territory. They want to take the whores and the booze and the cigarettes we run. Our captains told us to go out and be seen. Street presence, you know?"
Dimitri grunted as he merged onto the interstate and his truck gained speed. For some reason, these street gangs wanted to be so damn flash and showy. There was a reason they had such a hard time rising above their small-time thievery and whore-running. Running a successful illicit business took finesse and secrecy, something Johnny and his cohorts lacked.
What they didn't lack? Violence.
"A white SUV turned down the street, passed right by us, and then they were shooting at us. The bullets were tearing through the glass before I even realized what was happening. I tried to get us out of there but another SUV blocked me in. I jerked the wheel and took the curb. I didn't make it far before I slammed into a building. The car caught on fire or maybe the building was on fire. I don't know." He sounded so confused. "All I know is I managed to climb out the windshield and get out through one of the big windows on the side of the building."
"And you left the car behind? And your friends?"
"They were dead. Dead!" Scared shitless, Johnny started to cry. "I couldn't save them."
Dimitri wasn't about to console him. He'd warned Johnny countless times that this was the life of violence that awaited him. Now the dumb kid had seen firsthand the kind of destruction and hell the gang life created.
He sniffed and wiped at his face with the back of his hand. "Are you really taking me to a doctor?"
Dimitri frowned. "Why the hell would you ask me that?"
"Maybe you're thinking you can finally get rid of me and have Benny all to yourself. You just pop me in the back of the head and tell Benny I died in surgery."
Enraged that Johnny would even suggest something so dishonorable, Dimitri reached over and slapped the little bastard on the back of the head. "What do you think I am? A monster? I've never killed anyone outside the battlefield. I don’t intend to start with your sorry ass."
"Okay! All right! I'm sorry."
"Sorry? You're an ungrateful little shit." Gritting his teeth, Dimitri fought the urge to smack him again. "Do you have any idea what I'm risking to help you tonight? Huh?"
Eventually, Johnny said, "Yes."
"And do you know why I'm doing it?"
&n
bsp; "Because you're in love with my sister."
"Yes. I love Benny. I'll do anything for her, even if it means getting knee-deep in this Hermanos bullshit you've stirred up tonight."
"I didn't start this!"
"It doesn't matter, Johnny. You chose to be part of it. No one put a gun to your head and made you join this gang. You could have had a different life. You chose this one."
"I just wanted to belong to something."
"Now you do belong to something," Dimitri coldly replied. "You belong to a brotherhood of men who have watched their friends be gunned down by animals. You belong to a group of men who get to live every day with the guilt of knowing that they survived when their friends didn't."
Johnny sank into silence. Dimitri didn't care if he'd hurt Johnny's feelings. The kid had to learn there were serious consequences to his stupid choices.
"Did you see the men who shot you?"
"Yes."
"You'd recognize them?"
"Yes."
"When the doctor is done with you, I want their names. I want their descriptions. I want to know everything you know about them."
"Why?"
"If I'm going to keep Benny safe, I need all the intel I can get. You're going to give it to me."
"They won't come after her. She doesn't know anything."
"And if you're wrong?"
Johnny considered his query. "I'll tell you everything."
* * *
Kostya wouldn't tell me anything and I hated it. After Dimitri and Johnny left, he gently prodded me out of the way and got to work cleaning. I spotted the hastily discarded clothing on the floor and became so embarrassed. Not only had my brother seen the evidence of the wild sex I'd had with Dimitri but now Kostya knew. I hurried to pick up everything and carry it back to Dimitri's bedroom. I found a pair of shorts with a drawstring that fit me fairly well. They were too long but I didn't mind. I just wanted my bottom covered.
The frustratingly silent man brought in a small red bag from his vehicle. I watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as he emptied the contents onto the kitchen table. Gloves, surgical booties, bleach, solvents, paper towels, microfiber cloths, trash bags, toothbrushes, grout-cleaning tools—the homemade "cleaning" kit had everything an underworld soldier might need to make evidence disappear.
Though Dimitri seemed to put a hard wall between his life and the shadowy, criminal world that Nikolai inhabited, he obviously knew where to go for help when things got ugly. Kostya was a mystery to me. I thought he was Ivan's driver but I wasn't sure. Maybe, like the doctor Dimitri had spoken of, Kostya worked on Nikolai's payroll.
Down on all fours, Kostya started to mop up my brother's blood. The sight of the dark, congealed mess made my stomach pitch. Desperate to do something, I asked, "Can I help?"
Kostya's gaze jerked to my face. His expression was almost comical. He shook his head. "This isn't work for pretty, young girl like you. Go to bed. Let me work."
"Go to bed? Are you crazy? I can't go to sleep. My brother and the man I love are out there somewhere. They're in a dangerous situation."
Kostya studied me for a moment. Finally, he gestured to the box of gloves and booties. "Put those on and come here."
It was hard, dirty and hot work. I tried not to think about how Kostya had become so proficient in rendering blood evidence neutral. The tricks he showed me left me a little cold and frightened of him.
Would he hurt me? No. Dimitri wouldn't have left me in this man's care if he was even the slightest bit unstable. Had he hurt other people? That seemed to be a certainty.
While I finished the last round of mopping with a microfiber cloth, Kostya took a black light, cleaning rags and a spray bottle outside. I could only imagine how much blood Johnny had dripped on the steps. I was too afraid to poke my head through the door to watch Kostya work in the dark of night. Instead, I attacked the bloody smears Dimitri's fingers left behind on the door and the light fixtures.
When it was done, Kostya rolled out a few feet of white butcher paper to make a large square and taped it to the floor in front of the door. He grabbed the package of wet wipes, gestured me over and pointed to the paper. "Everything off."
I blinked at him. "What?"
"Take it all off. I leave nothing to chance."
I hugged my arms across my chest. "I'm not getting naked in front of you."
He looked taken aback. "No! I didn't mean—I would never—I'll turn my back."
Kostya spun quickly away from. I hesitated before doing as instructed. He cleared his throat. "Wipe your feet and your hands."
Cold and naked, I picked up the wet wipe package and cleaned my fingers and toes. I dropped the soiled wipes on the paper. "Now what?"
"Go into the bedroom. Get dressed. Wait until I tell you it's safe to come out."
I scurried off the crinkly paper and dashed to the bedroom. I closed the door halfway and hurried to Dimitri's closet. The sight of the kinky sex swing where he'd ravished me made my cheeks burn. Had I really done that? The slight ache between my thighs from being thoroughly fucked by him reminded me just how good it had been.
I found another shirt and shorts to wear. It occurred to me that if this staying overnight business was going to be a regular theme I needed to keep a better selection of clothing downstairs in my office.
"Benny? You can come out now."
I left the bedroom and discovered Kostya wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His scrubs were piled on top of the clothing I'd just removed. Curious, I wondered, "What do you do with all this when you're done?"
"It's destroyed."
"But why do we have to do all this? I don't understand the need for such secrecy."
Kostya considered me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, he asked, "What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?"
I gulped and shrugged. "I don't know."
"I do. The cops will be here. They're going to ask questions. They're going to want to know where you brother has gone. They're not the only ones who will want to know where he is. The people who shot him? They'll want to clean up that loose end. His own gang? They're going to be afraid that he's going to rat them out."
"But—"
"This is how we make him disappear. He was never here tonight. He vanishes. It's done."
Kostya's words scared me to death. My heart leapt into my throat. Vanish? Make him disappear? Surely Dimitri hadn't meant that he would send Johnny away when he'd promised to keep him safe. Ivan had managed to keep Erin's sister alive and safe and in her life. Why shouldn't it be the same for Johnny?
Deciding that Kostya was crazier than I'd first suspected, I put some space between us and went into the kitchen. The biting scent of cleanser burned my nose. Desperate to stay busy, I opened Dimitri's refrigerator and cabinets and stared at the contents. The urge to cook or bake something couldn't be denied.
Kostya slid onto one of the stools at the small island. "What are you making?"
"I'm not sure yet. Are you hungry?"
"I wouldn't say no to breakfast."
I mentally inventoried the ingredients on hand. "Do you like migas?"
"I don't think I've ever had them."
I gawked at him. "How long have you been in Texas?"
"Seven years."
"And you've never had migas?"
My incredulous tone coaxed a smile from him. "No, but there's a first time for everything, yes?"
With a nod, I got to work. It didn't take long to slice and fry up the corn tortilla strips. I cracked eggs into the heavy cast iron skillet and scrambled them with the crispy tortilla bits. Dimitri still had half a jar of the delicious salsa verde Lupe had given out to everyone last week. I'd always preferred my migas with yummy queso fresco but Dimitri only had a small block of sharp cheddar. Either way, they would still be delicious.
I dropped a heaping spoonful of salsa on my plate but let Kostya decide how much he wanted. Not surprisingly, he let only the tiniest dribble of the rich, green sauce on his
. I could see the uncertainty on his face as he prepared to take his first bite. I grinned when I watched surprise and delight color his expression.
"They're good, right?"
"So good," he agreed and dug into his late-night snack. "I've always liked breakfast for dinner."
I chuckled softly and stabbed my fork into the gooey mess of cheese and salsa and eggs. "This is actually supposed to be a hangover cure. It's pretty common on the late-night menus at diners and food trucks around here."
We fell into a comfortable conversation as we ate. In the back of my mind, constant worry for Dimitri and Johnny reigned supreme. The sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupted our chitchat. Kostya flew off his stool and moved to the door. He looked tense and ready to strike. The door opened—and it was Dimitri who stepped inside the apartment.
I relaxed at the sight of his handsome face but my stomach pitched wildly at the sight of so much dried blood on his hands and clothing. "Oh my God."
His tired gaze met mine. "He's okay, Benny. The doctor patched him up nicely. He's resting at a safe place. You don't need to worry. I've taken care of it."
Kostya spoke softly to Dimitri, the Russian words rushing from his lips so fast they sounded blurred to me. Dimitri listened and finally nodded. He started to strip out of his clothing. My eyes widened at the realization he was going to get naked right there but I remembered what Kostya had said about no loose ends.
"Let me get you some clothes."
Dimitri shook his head. "I'll shower first."
"Okay." I noticed his gaze lingering on the food we'd been eating. "Are you hungry? I can fix something?"
Totally naked now, he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "I'm more tired than hungry but thank you for offering, sweetheart."
Kostya wasted no time in cleaning up the entryway. He rolled everything up inside the paper square and secured it with tape before dumping the whole mess of soiled items into a bigger heavy-duty trash bag. The smaller bags we'd filled while cleaning went into that one.
Armed with his cleaning supplies, he headed for the bedroom. Apparently, Kostya was going to be very thorough tonight. When the shower shut off, I started to tidy up the kitchen. I could barely hear the two men talking. Every now and then, I'd hear the unmistakable squeak and whoosh of the smelly cleaning solvent Kostya kept in that bottle.