Page 6 of Bratva Wolf

“Fingers set up a security job for you at the hospital. Isabella’s hospital.”

Gritting my teeth, I bury my irritation. Why the fuck am I doing enforcer work for my father’s ward? She’s an adult, when does he have to stop looking out for her? This is all because Cynric is screwing her. I nod, there’s nothing else I can do.“I’ll inform you when I find the men that have bothered Mrs. Abashin.”

I step into the garage after leaving the building, grumbling as I climb into my BMW. Frustration overflows my car like froth in my latte as I put the car in gear. “Fuck!” My late mother’s words about my role as the second son come to my mind. I will be my older brother’s right hand. I will keep him safe and do as he commands. “Fucking obligations.”

Thirty minutes later, I park in front of the old woman’s house and tread to her door, ringing the bell.

She smiles and utters in Russian. “Thane. My favorite Bravikov son.”

I answer. “Good to see you, too.” Her house smells like cinnamon apples and the melancholy from the death of my mother grips my heart with its cold claw. “You made apple pie?”

She motions for me to enter. “I did. I was just finishing dinner if you haven’t eaten.”

My stomach rumbles as I follow her farther into the splendid scents. I sit down as she fills a bowl with stew and sets it in front of me. The table is old wood with dings and scars which just give it more of an authentic antique feel. The room has crocheted throws over the sofas, and she has that dumb painting of the dogs playing poker. It’s clean but has that musty old person smell. I cock my head to look at the small woman. “Tell me about the men.”

She stiffens, sitting down across the table. “I stumbled into something when I was dropping off meals at an apartment building for the Brooklyn Gables Senior Center. A drug buy or something, I’m still not sure. The men saw me and threatened me.”

I scoop the aromatic concoction into my mouth. The sadness I felt when I walked in envelopes my soul, focusing on a singlememory of my mother’s laugh. “Have you seen the men since that night?”

She shakes her head. “I think Roric scared them off. Two men were parked out front when he stopped by. He drew his gun on them. They seemed surprised.”

I grit my teeth. “They didn’t realize you mattered to someone.”

Bang. My head snaps to the back of the house. “Get down.” Mrs. Abashin gets under the table as I pull out my phone, dialing Papa. “Where are the men?”

My father answers. “You have three men there.”

“Bullets are hitting the house, and no one is firing back at them. Those men are down.”

My father yells over the phone in Russian as I pull out my gun. My phone drops to the floor as a door slams open in the back of the kitchen, and I wait. Resting in my hand, my gun is solid, ready to take the life of whatever man is stupid enough to come against me. A man in a black hoodie steps around the corner, choosing to look right instead of left. I shoot him in the head before he turns into the room. The body crumples on the floor as a second man flies through the window near me. Glass explodes showering the area with shards of glass. I grab the knife on the table and slice it across the man’s throat.

“Any more?” She whispers from under the table.

“No, I think that’s it.” The man bleeds out on her floor. “We’ll clean this up.”

She groans under the table. “I know. I…”

I shove the table away from where she is hiding. Blood seeps around a sliver of glass sticking out of her leg. “Shit. You’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. Are you okay?” She hands up my phone which had landed next to her.

The front door knob jiggles and the faerie who has captured my fantasies runs into the foyer, yelling. “Mrs. Abashin?”

The petite redhead does a double take at me, as her scowl deepens. “What the fuck happened here?”

“Language.” Mrs. Abashin scolds as I pick her up and set her on the empty end of the table.

Red glares between the lady and me. “There’s a first aid kit under the half bathroom sink. You could grab it for me.”

In the bathroom, I pull out the box and walk back toward the ladies as my phone rings in my pocket.

“What?”

“Saxon and Roric are almost there with five enforcers.”

I scoff. “You’re all a bit late. I need a clean-up on aisle two. It was a small team. They didn’t expect anyone here to fight back.”

Cynric answers. “Yeah. We should have expected as much. Georgie is almost there, and he’ll take care of the spill.”

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