Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)(23)

“Come sit with me,” Vasily said. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Alek swiped up one of his apples and followed his uncle to the dining table in the corner that overlooked Madison Square Park.

“I understand what’s happening is important,” Vasily started as he took the lid off his cup. “But it’s pulling you from your immediate surroundings. From the time we left the restaurant, you haven’t taken note of anything but what’s going on in your own head. I shouldn’t have to tell you how dangerous that is right now. You’re going to promise me that you’ll leave her behind when you walk out the door. If you’re in a secure place, lose yourself, I don’t care. But if you’re somewhere you can be a target, keep your focus sharp and pay attention.”

More of that unfamiliar thing called embarrassment came over him. “Right,” he murmured. “He’s never come at us so directly, but if he had tonight, I’d have been an easy target.” For the firestarter who’d taken to sending messages by burning sheep. Fuckhead.

Vasily worked his neck with his inked fingers. “Yes, you would have. Don’t do that to me. You pay the fuck attention or I’ll nail two of the boys to your ass and you’ll soon learn how awkward it is to be observed while taking a shit.” His brows came down as he sipped his coffee. “Actually, that was one of the things I was going to tell you. I am, in fact, going to insist you have one man with you at all times until this issue is dealt with. And even after. Anton seems the best choice, and Grigori and Lucas will be at his disposal if he feels there’s a need for them.”

He held up a hand when Alek, naturally, went to protest.

“Don’t bother, son. He’s on you whether you want the company or not. We all have to deal with it; why should you be any different? And you’ll soon find having him at your back is more a comfort than a nuisance.”

Alek bit into his apple and gave in gracefully. One, because he liked and respected Anton. Two, because he could now hear the fucking guy in the foyer, talking quietly with Dmitri. And, three, when Vasily used that tone, there was no point in arguing.

He’d learned that lesson when he was eight years old and his eighteen-year-old uncle would visit with Alek’s grandfather. Everyone was different when Ivan Tarasov was present. Especially Vasily. He would follow his father into the study, unsmiling, and would remain in there with up to a dozen other men for hours at a time. Alek would sometimes wait outside the door and listen, trying to pick out his uncle’s voice. He’d never liked the way it sounded during those meetings.

But then the Pakhan would leave with his men. And it wouldn’t be Vasily who turned from the doorway with that playful glint in his eye. It would be Alek’s beloved Vasya. That was when Alek would run away laughing, and after being allowed to think he’d gotten away, Vasily would come out of nowhere and scare the hell out of him. Then they’d spend the rest of the day together; uncle patiently being led around by nephew, enthusing over things that must have bored him to tears.

All that had changed when Alek was nine, when, for a while, Vasily’s visits had trickled to almost nothing. Alek now knew that was because his uncle had met Kathryn. Things were never the same after that.

“I know it bothers you when I ask,” Vasily continued, moving on, “but can you tell me if Maksim has mentioned anything he might be doing to find our problem?”

A grave silence descended between them. It had nothing to do with ratting out his friend. “What’s going on? Have you learned something?”

“Answer my question.”

He barely stopped his eyebrow from popping when Vasily barked at him in a way he rarely did. “No. From what he told us, you ordered him to keep his nose out of it, and he is. If he’s taken it upon himself to dig, he hasn’t shared that with me. I can’t speak for V or Gabriel, though. You’ll have to ask them personally.”

“I have, and got the same response.” He sipped his coffee and then got up and went to the bar. He brought back a bottle of Stoli and two glasses. He poured one and hovered over the other, raising his brow. Alek shook his head for the first time in a long while and took another bite of his apple. He wanted a clear head tomorrow. “I’m having a hard time believing he’s let it go,” Vasily murmured.

“Why are you holding him back from this one? If he starts up, I’m sure he’d put the pieces together as only he can and you would have this fucker sooner rather than later.”

“I don’t want you sharing what I’m about to tell you.” Vasily tossed back the shot then sat forward, rolling his empty glass between his hands.