“He’s off the highway and heading your way. ETA seven minutes,” he barks, throws the phone on the dash, and leans back in his seat, his mouth widening in a smug smile. “I missed the action, you know?”
I know that smile. We are fucked.
*
“Shit!” I jam the crowbar under the truck’s cargo doors again and start lifting them up, but the mechanism that should keep the thing from sliding back down doesn’t work.
“Sergei! Are you done?”
His voice comes from under the truck. “Just one more.”
“You put enough of that shit to blow up the whole damn street. Leave it and come here, the door is jammed.”
Sergei rolls out from under the truck and comes to my side.
“Just keep it there, I’ll get the girl,” he says, turns on the flashlight on his phone, and jumps up into the truck.
I hear his footsteps moving further inside, then the sound of boxes being moved.
“Is she there?” I ask.
“I can’t find her. Are you sure she’s . . . oh, fuck!”
There are some more rustling noises and things being moved.
“Sergei?”
“I’ve got her. Shit, she’s in a bad shape.” His steps come closer. “Hold that door.”
I press down on the crowbar, lifting the door higher, then grab the bottom and heft it over my head so Sergei can carry the girl out. Holding a limp female body in his arms, he ducks under the partially raised door and jumps down off the truck. There is no way to see the woman’s features, because her tangled hair is all over her face. What I can see are her torn shorts and shirt, and one thin arm hanging limply. She’s skin and bones.
“I’ll call Varya and tell her to bring the doc.” I let the truck door fall back down. “We can meet them at the safe house.”
“No. I’m taking her to my place.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“I said I’m taking her with me.”
There is a strange look in Sergei’s eyes, like he’s ready to defend his precious cargo from anyone who’d come close. Roman is going to lose it when he hears about this.
“Whatever. Get her into the car, blow the truck, and let’s get out of here.”
I call Dimitri on my way to the car, and tell him to get the guys and get lost. I expect Sergei to place the girl in the back seat and sit up front, but instead of doing so, he just tightens his arms around her and gets in the back, cradling her. Shaking my head, I start the car and swerve onto the dirt road leading toward the highway.
“Ready?” I look in the rearview mirror and see Sergei staring down at the girl in his arms. “Jesus, Sergei! Get that fucking remote and blow the fucking truck already.”
His head snaps up, the eyes narrowed, and he smirks at me. The epic boom pierces the night. My eyes widen. Did he have that thing on a timer? The bastard could have blown all three of us to pieces if getting the girl had taken a few minutes longer.
I take my phone and call Bruno Scardoni’s number.
He answers on the second ring. “What?”
“Dearest Father-in-law.” I smile. “The Bratva sends their regards.”
I cut the call and dial Roman next. “It’s done.”
“Everything went as planned?”
“More or less.” I sigh.
“Shit. What did he do? It’s Sergei, I just know it.”
“He wants to take the girl to his place.”
“Perfect. Just perfect. Tell him to . . . you know, I don’t care. Should I send Varya there?”
“Yes. And the doc. The girl is barely alive.”
“Fucking wonderful. I need you here at eight tomorrow morning.”
I throw the phone onto the passenger’s seat and head to Sergei’s place.
Chapter 19
I sit up in bed and watch Mikhail getting ready to head to the pakhan’s place.
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know.” He bends down to kiss me. “I’ll message you when I’m done.”
“Okay. I’ll go wake Lena up. She will be late.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll get her ready.”
“I want to. And I style her hair better,” I sign and brush his cheek.
When Mikhail leaves, I head into Lena’s room, take out the cute pink pants and shirt with matching pink ruffles from her dresser, then go sit next to her on the bed. It takes me two whole minutes of jiggling her nose until she finally wakes up.
“Bianca, Bianca, five more minutes.”