Page 6 of Paved in Venom

I know he wants to argue with me about it, so I turn to Emily and ask, “How’s the morning sickness?”

The look on his face makes it obvious he knows exactly what I’m doing, but he lets it go and instead wraps an arm around his wife and kisses the top of her head. I’ve never seen Roman in love before, but from the first night he met Emily, that was it. It didn’t matter that he met her because we were investigating her dad’s involvement in sex trafficking, and it didn’t matter when he turned out to be guilty as fuck. She’s not responsible for her dad’s decisions. She wants to take them all down just as much as we do. I’m happy for them. Not everyone gets a happy ending like this, and if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

Emily groans and hands me one of the finished cupcakes. “Sick as a dog every damn morning. That’s why I’m baking cupcakes. I had a craving, and I know that once I go to bed I won’t be able to stomach anything until tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’m sorry, solnishka,” Roman says, turning her around and lifting her onto the counter. She laughs and wraps her arms and legs around him. “You can eat your weight in pizza tonight and have cupcakes for dessert.”

“Yeah, tomorrow morning is going to be a lot of fun,” she says with another groan.

“I’ll hold your hair, baby,” Roman tells her, making her laugh again.

I take my cupcake and leave. I’m not about to stand around and watch them make out like a couple of teenagers. The penthouse we share is huge, plenty of space for all of us, but there’s only one kitchen, so it’s inevitable that we’re going to run into one another a lot. So far it’s worked out fine, though, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about having a baby around. We all are.

Stuffing the last bit of cupcake in my mouth, I go downstairs to the space I’ve claimed as my own. Matvey’s rooms are down here too, and there’s also a room we set up with a pool table and bar. There’s even a few gaming systems for when we want to zone out or can’t sleep. This place has everything we could want or need.

Grabbing my laptop from my messenger bag, I put it on my desk next to my other equipment. I have several large monitors set up, and as soon as I sit my ass in my leather chair, I feel some of the tension leave me. My headache dulls to a mild throb when my fingers hit the keyboard. Computers make sense to me; they always have. Ever since I stole my very first one when I was a teenager, I’ve been hooked. It’s the only thing that’s ever really made sense to me. I remember how surprised I was when I’d show the others the things I was doing, and they’d just look at me like I was crazy. They couldn’t see what I saw. To them it was a mess, an indecipherable code that they couldn’t understand no matter how hard they tried. To me it was beautiful, and it made perfect sense.

The first thing I do is check our banking accounts, making sure everything looks okay and that money is still being funneled into our accounts with no red flags showing up. I’ve been syphoning us money from various accounts since we were teenagers, and now we have more than we’ll ever be able to spend. I keep taking more, though. Old habits die hard.

Before I can get too deep in my research, I get a text that the pizza is here. I’m not surprised to find the kitchen empty and the cupcakes forgotten. Roman and Emily will eventually crawl out of their bedroom for food. I meet the delivery driver in the parking garage, giving him a large tip because I may steal money, but I’m pretty damn generous with it. The guy’s eyes light up when he sees the hundred I slip him.

“Wow, thanks, man,” he says, pocketing it with a quickness.

I take the boxes and get back into the elevator. I know exactly what it feels like to be poor, to want things you’ll never be able to afford, and to go to bed hungry because there’s nothing in the fucking apartment to eat. I also know what it feels like to get your ass kicked by an abusive stepdad. The only good thing about my youth are my brothers. Everything else was shit.

Dropping the boxes off on the counter, I fix myself a plate and go back to my room. I have no doubt tonight will be another long night of digging through things on the hidden dark web that I have no desire to see. The images I’ve had to comb through will haunt me for the rest of my life, but there’s no way around it. Someone knows where Alina is. These bastards keep photos, they share them, orchestrate auctions and sometimes even set up trades when they’re ready for something new. If there are photos of Alina, then I’m going to find them.

After several hours of poking around the slimiest corners of the internet, a gut-wrenching scream pulls me away from the screen. I run out of my room and down the hall to Matvey’s room. His night terrors had gotten better, but they’ve recently taken a turn for the worse. Throwing open his door, I run in, stopping at the edge of his bed. He’s fisting the sheet, his face a mask of pure agony, and his shirt’s so sweaty it’s clinging to him. I know better than to touch him. I learned that lesson years ago. It had taken both Roman and Vitaly to peel him off me that night. I’d nearly lost consciousness because I couldn’t bring myself to fight back and risk hurting him. After that night, we developed a system. I reach for the glass of water he makes sure to always have on his nightstand and toss it right in his face.

His arms flail as he screams Alina’s name before finally opening his eyes. They’re wide with fear and confusion, and when they settle on me, his shoulders slump, and he lets out a heavy sigh. He scrubs a hand over his wet face and angrily tosses his pillow aside.

“Thanks, Danil,” he says, his voice even raspier than usual. “Sorry to wake you again.”

“Fuck that,” I say, setting the empty glass down. “You know I’m always awake.”

Matvey sits on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his thighs with his head in his hands. I sit down next to him, not wanting to leave him alone just yet. We sit in silence for several minutes. I know he’s in pain. I know he carries it around every second of every day—guilt for not being able to save his mom and sister in the fire, guilt for Alina being kidnapped, guilt for not having found her yet. It’s tearing him apart, piece by piece, day by day, it’s destroying him, and there’s not a goddamn thing any of us can do to stop it.

“We’re going to find her,” I tell him. “I’m getting an invite to that auction, and I’m going to find out who’s behind this. Once we have a name, we can track them down and find out where she is.”

His hands are in tight fists, tattoos and scars covering them and disappearing under the sleeves of his shirt. “I keep thinking about what’s being done to her.” Keeping his head in his hands, he lets out a pained sigh. “Right fucking now, what’s being done to her? What are they doing to her?” He lifts his head, his dark eyes meet mine, and the tortured look in them makes me more determined than ever to find her. “I can’t do a goddamn thing about it. I can’t protect her.”

“You will,” I tell him. I want to reach out and squeeze his shoulder, anything to make him feel even slightly better, but he doesn’t like to be touched, so instead I say, “We’re going to find her, and you’re going to get to kill the fucker who has her.”

He lets out a harsh laugh. “That thought is the only thing that keeps me going sometimes. When I dream about killing that fucker, it’s the only peaceful sleep I get.”

“Come on,” I tell him, standing up and motioning for him to follow. “I’ll let you kick my ass in a game of pool.”

“Let me?” he asks. A very brief hint of a smile crosses his face before it disappears. “You know there’s no way in hell you can beat me.”

We play pool until the sun starts to rise. He’s right. I don’t even come close to beating him. The guy’s a fucking wizard at pool. Before he disappears to do his morning workout, he gives me a rare smack on the back and says, “Thanks, man. It almost makes me feel bad about the payback headed your way for leaving me and Lev with Oleg.”

“What payback?” I ask as he walks out the door.

“You’ll see,” he calls over his shoulder.

There’s no telling what in the hell they have planned, so I don’t even bother trying to figure it out. My luck I’ll wake up with Lev trying to pierce my lip or some shit like that. I walk back to my room, and by the time I crawl into bed, the sun has already risen, and I’m past the point of exhaustion. I push a button for the blackout curtains to descend, welcoming the pitch-black darkness that fills the room. If I’m lucky, I’ll get several hours of sleep before I have to get ready for tonight.

When I wake, my brain is groggy, and it takes several seconds before I realize where I’m at and what time it is. Well, I got my wish, and if I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late. I jump in the shower, letting the hot water loosen my muscles and fully wake me up. After I’m dressed in a suit, I check to make sure I haven’t missed anything important on my computer before slipping it into my messenger bag and heading upstairs.

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