Guard (The Underground Book 3) Read online

  “Why so secretive?”

  Mikhail rubbed his palms on his thighs as it dawned on him why Taylor hadn’t shown up dressed in a suit.

  “Safer for everyone if no one thinks you or anyone else involved in this case is talking to the FBI.”

  Haley frowned, but she nodded.

  Taylor pressed a button on her phone to start recording. “Do you remember what happened when you were kidnapped?”

  “Not really. It was late in the evening. I had just finished delivering sandwiches to a group of people under the overpass—the same place I stop most Monday evenings. Whoever took me must have watched and waited for me to walk away, and then they grabbed me from around the corner when I was alone on my way home.

  “I vaguely remember a moment of fear when a hand wrapped around my arm, but I never saw anything. When I woke up, I was in a locked room alone. My clothes were gone. I was wearing nothing but a hospital gown.”

  “Can you describe the room for me?” Taylor asked gently.

  “It was like a jail cell, I guess. Nothing but a cot, a sink, and a toilet. Gray walls and flooring. What I noticed most was that the only color in the room was my hair. Sometimes I pulled it in front of my face to remind myself I could still see in color.” Haley smiled wanly.

  “But they fed you?”

  “Yes. There was a hole in the bottom of the door, like a doggy door for a small puppy. It would open just long enough for a tray to be shoved under.

  “There was also a window on the door, almost a foot wide and high, but I couldn’t see through it. It must have been one-way.”

  “Were you sexually assaulted at any time?”

  Mikhail held his breath, his body rigid. Please, God.

  Haley shook her head. “No. I mean I wasn’t aware of anything like that, and I never had any physical evidence. I thought about it the first day when I woke up in a hospital gown. Freaked me out. But nothing…” She glanced down at her lap, swallowed, and lowered her voice. “Nothing felt, you know, like I’d been touched.” Her face turned red, and she didn’t move for several seconds.

  Mikhail slowly exhaled, but what he wanted to do was reach out to her.

  Taylor continued, “Did anyone ever come into the room?”

  Haley nodded. “Yes. It took me several days to realize the food I ate was laced with something to make me tired. A while after eating, someone would come in and give me shots in the arm or draw blood. A few times I was aware of this, but it was hazy. I couldn’t fight them. I couldn’t even find the strength to scream or speak.”

  Mikhail gripped his knees with both hands, fighting the urge to kill someone. If he ever got his hands on the bastards who did this…

  And the worst part was—he had a pretty good idea who it was.

  “So this went on for two weeks?”

  “Yes, though I lost track of time. No one fed me that last morning. I was more awake by the time the door opened and a man came inside. He tossed me a pair of scrubs and told me to put them on and follow him.

  “He was all business and didn’t say another word. I hoped he was rescuing me. And I didn’t have a lot of options. My hands shook while I changed. He stood in the doorway facing out. I slipped on the tennis shoes that had been wrapped in the scrubs. I could hardly stand and support myself. I was too weak. It was a wonder I was able to walk out of the place on my own accord.”

  “What did you see on the way out?” Taylor asked.

  Mikhail was wondering the same thing, but he kept his lips pursed.

  “There were rooms lining the hallway on both sides. I couldn’t tell if they were occupied.

  “Scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know if I was being led to my death or my salvation.”

  “Can you describe the man you followed?”

  Haley curled her legs up under her and took another sip of her coffee before she answered. “Pale. Messy dark hair. About an inch shorter than me. Maybe five six. Skinny. Glasses. Black frames.”

  Ted Christianson. Mikhail was sure of that.

  “And then what?” Taylor asked.

  “He led me outside. The sun was so bright it was hard to see. And I was cold. I didn’t have a jacket.”

  “Did you see anyone else on the way?”

  Haley shook her head. “Not until we reached the car. A man was leaning against the passenger door when scrawny guy reached to open it. He said ‘you can’t put her in the front seat, asshole.’ And then he rounded both of us to pop the trunk.

  “I nearly peed my pants at the thought of getting inside. And they made me do it myself. Climb in, I mean. The guy who had been leaning against the car held up a syringe as he nodded at the trunk.

  “It was clear I had two choices: get in myself or be drugged into submission.” She glanced away again, pursing her lips for a moment before continuing. “That guy. He, uh… He intended to rape me. At least he said he did. As I curled up in the trunk, he chuckled. I’ll never forget that sound. A deep cackling tone. Mean. And he clapped the other guy on the back and said, ‘Thanks for moving her for me. It’ll be so much sweeter fucking her tight pussy in a more private location.’”

  “Jesus,” Mikhail muttered, unable to stop himself. In fact, he asked the next question before Taylor had a chance. “What did that fucker look like?”

  Haley turned to face him and then her face dipped toward her lap. “Short also. Stocky. Muscles like yours, though. But he was older. Maybe mid-forties. Gray receding hairline. His accent was Russian.”

  Mikhail gritted his teeth.

  That motherfucking son of a bitch.

  Anton Yenin.

  Taylor went on. “Do you have any idea where you were? Any distinguishing features about the building or the surroundings?”

  She shook her head. “Not much. The building stood alone. Metal sides. Silver. Shiny. The sun was glaring off the walls. It was much larger than the short hallway I’d walked down.”

  “Trees? Flat land? Hills?”

  Haley closed her eyes, perhaps visualizing what she’d seen. “I think there were trees. It felt isolated, out of place. A strange warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Flat land I think. Gravel parking. I walked across gravel to get to the car.”

  “That’s good. You’re doing great. How far do you think you drove to get to Dr. Christianson’s house?”

  “Half an hour maybe?”

  “And you were in the trunk, right? So you have no idea what direction he traveled?”

  Taylor shook her head. “Sorry. Seemed like a few minutes on the gravel and then we hit pavement and then we must have entered the highway. We drove without stopping for a long time. But I don’t know what direction.”

  “Did the car ever slow down? As if there was traffic or stop lights or street signs?”

  “Not that I recall. The highway was more tolerable because I didn’t get tossed around as much.”

  Taylor nodded. “Good. Great. That’s a huge help, Haley. I’m glad you remembered so much.”

  Chapter Two

  Haley couldn’t stop shaking. She sat through the rest of Taylor’s questions, but there wasn’t much else to say.

  Whoever the short man in the thick glasses was, he took her to his house and put her in what she assumed was his own bedroom. It hadn’t done much good to climb in the trunk and save the little asshole the trouble of drugging her because as soon as they entered his room, he plunged a syringe in her arm and emptied it anyway.

  The next thing she remembered was hearing an argument someplace else in the house. Acting on nothing but adrenaline, she searched the room, found a gun in the bedside table, and leaned around the corner to peer down the hall.

  No one was looking her direction.

  One of Mikhail’s huge Russian friends had the pale, skinny man in front of him by the throat, and it was obvious the Russian and his partner were trying to overpower the small guy and two others against the back of the kitchen.

  Praying the two huge men were good guys, she shot at the asshole
s against the wall until the bullets ran out. And then she hunched in the corner of the room waiting to die.

  But fate didn’t take her that day. Instead Mikhail showed up, crouched in front of her, and hauled her to safety.

  And now she was irrationally attached to him. Which wasn’t like her at all.

  But the truth of the matter was she couldn’t imagine being left alone.

  Haley Sullivan. Queen of solitude. A woman with few friends who had lived most of her life alone.

  Her parents had been missionaries—and they still were. As an only child, she’d moved from one country to another more times than she could count. She never spoke the language, so she’d learned to play independently with few toys and no friends her own age.

  She’d grown so accustomed to being alone that she found other people annoyed her when they were too close for too long. She’d managed to avoid having roommates in college and had never lived with another person as an adult.

  The last two nights with Mikhail in her apartment had been the first two nights she’d ever spent under the same roof with someone other than her parents.

  People might say she was young and stupid and naïve. She didn’t care.

  “You okay?” Mikhail asked after he let Taylor out. He rounded the coffee table and sat on the edge of it, facing her.

  She still had her legs tucked under her. They were stiff, but she was too tired to move. “Not sure yet. Jury’s still out.” She forced a smile.

  Mikhail returned a grin. “You need food. There isn’t anything to eat in your apartment. I cleaned out your refrigerator yesterday while you slept like the dead so you wouldn’t have to face it. You want me to go to the store or take you someplace to eat?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “You cleaned my kitchen?”

  “Well, yeah. I was bored. It was rank.”

  “What have you been eating?”

  “Takeout. Ivan and Leo and Katie have all stopped by at one time or another.”

  “Ivan and Leo are your friends, and Katie’s the doctor from the clinic?”

  “Yes. She’s Leo’s girlfriend.”

  Haley nodded. She needed to piece these people together in her mind. “Doesn’t anyone work? You’ve been here all this time?”

  “I couldn’t just leave you.” He shrugged. “I work construction usually during the day, and I didn’t have a job lined up this week. But my main source of income is from fighting.”

  She flinched. “Fighting? Who?” What the hell kind of man had been looking over her?

  He smiled. “Not random people on the street, Haley. Mixed martial arts. MMA. In a cage.” He shrugged again. “Not that it’s much different from random people on the street, mind you. I fight the underground circuit.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Under the radar. No rules. Unsanctioned.”

  “Oh.” She sat up straighter. “Is that legal?”

  “Not exactly. I have a manager. He books my fights. I show up, kick some ass, take home the winnings.”

  She winced. “Lord. That doesn’t sound safe.”

  “It’s perfectly safe.” He winked. “As long as I win.”

  “I guess you win often.” She glanced down at his body, taking in his physique. He was built like steel. No wonder. His dark T-shirt barely stretched over his muscular arms. His thighs bulged inside his worn jeans. “As much as I hate it, I do have to get my ass to the gym today. I was going to have someone else come over if that’s okay.”

  “Sure. Right. Of course.” Haley unfolded her legs, cringing at how much she ached. Everywhere. Now that she was more alert, she was more aware of how weak her body was. She’d spent two weeks in bed. No wonder.

  “I don’t mean right this second. But eventually. Now, about food. It’s already lunchtime.”

  “Yeah. I’ll uh…” She didn’t know what she would do. Decision making seemed to have fled. She needed to call her boss. Did she still have a job?

  “How about if I run to the store? I can see there’s one a few blocks away. I’ll grab some staples and be right back. Yeah?”

  “Good plan. But I don’t have any cash in the house. Can I give you my credit card?”

  He pushed himself to standing. “No problem. I’ve got it.”

  She tipped her chin back and looked up at him. He seemed monstrous standing so close. She didn’t know enough about him. She should be afraid. But she wasn’t.

  He stepped across the room to the adjoining kitchen area and grabbed something off the table. When he turned around, he held it out to her. “Found this on the counter. It was dead. I charged it. It’s been beeping incessantly since then. Your purse is on the counter too. Why were you out delivering sandwiches with nothing on you?”

  She smiled. “I never take anything. That way I can’t get mugged. I dress down. Blend in.”

  “Of course, that also got you kidnapped.” He lifted one brow. “Do you always deliver meals alone?”

  She nodded. “Not meals exactly. I just bring a few sandwiches with me when I go out. I’ve done this my entire life. It’s how I’m wired. Until now, I’ve never considered it to be unsafe. They’re human beings. Most of them are harmless. They just need someone to listen to them. Bring a blanket. A coat. Warm gloves. A sandwich.”

  Mikhail watched her intently while she spoke. He didn’t judge her or reprimand her. Finally, he stated, “I’m sure whoever took you thought you were homeless.”

  “Why would someone kidnap homeless people?”

  He shook his head. “It’s a mystery to me too, but I can tell you we’re talking about the Russian Mafia. The man you saw next to the car with the syringe? He was Anton Yenin, leader of the Vegas Mafia. He seems to have moved to the area.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “It’s not a coincidence.” Mikhail turned toward the door. “Long story. I’ll explain more when I get back. You need food.”

  Haley stared at the door as it shut and then listened while Mikhail locked it in two places from the outside. She took a deep breath, realizing he must have taken her keys with him.

  ∙•∙

  Mikhail leaned against the door for several seconds before walking away. Not only was it not a coincidence that Yenin was in town, but Mikhail feared it was largely his fault. If he hadn’t moved to Chicago himself a year ago, Yenin wouldn’t have followed, and Haley wouldn’t have been kidnapped.

  The FBI would argue that Yenin had his sights on Chicago already and had a drug lab in the works years ago. But that didn’t make Mikhail feel warm and fuzzy. He moved to Chicago. He left Vegas. He pissed off Yenin by doing so. That was all on him.

  The guilt he felt over that was tremendous. He’d thought about it time and time again while Haley slept and he paced.

  And all the dead homeless people…

  At least Haley had been a survivor. But why? And what were the permanent repercussions to whatever Yenin had done to her?

  His phone rang as he pushed off the door and headed down the hall.

  Nikolav.

  “Hey. What’s up?” Mikhail answered.

  “Heading your way with Sergei.”

  “Figured that would be the case.”

  “No idea what Yenin’s up to, but neither of us is sticking around Vegas any longer to find out the hard way. The man is making me fucking nervous as hell. He’s only here about half the time, and he spends most of that in his damn lab. Whatever that fucker is cooking, I do not want to know.”

  “Except I think we do want to know. But I don’t blame you for bailing. I’m surprised either of you lasted this long under his thumb.”

  “We’ll drive up early next week. You have space for us to crash for a few nights until we can find something?”

  “Of course. The three-bedroom apartment currently has only Ivan and my sister, Alena, in it. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying with the social worker. She’s pretty shook up. And I don’t think she’s safe.”

  “Doesn’t Ivan hav
e his own place?”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t want to leave Alena alone either. His apartment’s currently vacant, but frankly, I’d rather you two stayed with Alena. I worry about her. She thinks she’s invincible. Always arguing with me about getting out of the apartment. I don’t like her exposed. I don’t want Yenin to know she’s even in the country if I can avoid it. Don’t trust that asshole.”

  “I hear ya. Can you hook us up with Abram Gromov? We’re gonna need a manager. You think he’ll take us on?”

  “I know he will. He’s asked about you two several times. Wondered when you would break ties with Yenin and move to Chicago. I’ll give him a heads up and shoot you his number.”

  “Perfect. See you soon, then.” Nikolav disconnected.

  Neither Mikhail nor Leo, or even Ivan for that matter, had told Sergei and Nikolav everything that had happened in the last few days. There would be plenty of time to fill them in when they arrived.

  They understood that some shit had gone down, some of Yenin’s men had been killed, and Haley had been rescued as a byproduct of the operation, but they hadn’t been brought completely into the fold.

  The reality was Leo Gulin was an informant for the FBI. He had been for two years. And until Monday, none of the others had known it.

  The thought of his best friend keeping such a secret had been like a shot to the gut at first, but then Mikhail had realized the gravity of the situation and the hard spot Leo had been in. The man had no choice. He’d been up against the wall when the FBI confronted him and brought him in.

  Besides, Mikhail and the other five Russian fighters who worked for Yenin had been suspicious of Yenin’s activities for years. There wasn’t a chance in hell the man had brought the six of them over from Russia on his own dime altruistically to train them to fight.

  Not. A. Fucking. Chance. In. Hell.

  Yenin was up to something. But the money was good. The six fighters had been well taken care of for a dozen years. And they’d never asked questions.