Last Breath (Hitman #2)(74)
Author: Jessica Clare

She draws a breath and pauses.

I love you, Daniel. And I stole all the digital currency people had placed in the fake bank I created in the Emperor’s Palace and converted it into Francs and then funneled it into five different accounts in the U.S. It was too big for one account. I emailed you the details. I had to give some of it to Vasily or he wouldn’t allow me internet access. But I was able to save some for you and Regan. And Mom and Dad if they need it. It’s from bad people, so don’t be angry. You can’t really steal money from bad people. This is like a redistribution. Like recompense.

That was it. Naomi doesn’t say goodbye.

“Was it Naomi?” Regan’s voice is so hopeful that I’m glad I can say yes.

“She says hi and that she converted fake drug money into real money and that she thinks she’s going to like it in Russia.” I feel a little dazed. The phone is going to have to come with me. “Hold on,” I tell Regan. “I need to call Petrovich.”

The phone rings only once. It’s as if Petrovich is expecting my call, and I light into him before he can utter a word. “So you kidnapped my sister. Give me one reason I shouldn’t come and hunt you down like a dog. Or better yet, reveal to your Bratva how you were involved in the assassination of your uncle.”

Petrovich is silent, perhaps not expecting me to throw this back into his face. But fuck honor. My family is on the line.

“I swear on my mother’s grave that no harm will come to your sister. I will protect her as if she were my own sister from the womb of my dear mother. Every hurt she suffers, I will bear twice in payment. She will want for nothing, and I will return her hale to the bosom of your family.”

Beyond him there is a murmur of sound and then a swift argument.

“Yes, Naomi, I will return you.” Then he’s back online with me and in a stiff voice says, “I will return Naomi only when she desires it. I have promised her this.”

Before I can say anything else, he hangs up.

“Is she going to be okay?” Regan asks.

I nod and take a few deep breaths. “Yeah, he promises on his dead mother, so you know it’s all good.”

“Then why is the phone crumpled in your hand?”

I look down and see the burner’s plastic face and back are cracked, the edges of it drawing blood from my palm. Tossing it aside, I wrap my arms around Regan because she’s become my safe harbor. Her neck smells warm and comforting, and the angry pounding in my head over the knowledge of my sweet sister in Petrovich’s hands subsides a bit.

“I guess I have to trust him. I’ve got a pretty big weapon to hold over his head, so unless we’re up for a battle with one of the most powerful Russian crime families, I’ll just have to believe in his promises. Petrovich took control of his Bratva by helping us kill Sergei and Sergei’s lieutenants. If the rest of his organization knew that he did this, he’d be killed. Plus,” I rub my forehead, “he really believes in honor and family, which is why he had Sergei killed. Sergei was bringing the Petrovich family to ruin, and Vasily needed to stop him.”

“I’ll go to Russia with you,” Regan offers.

“Know what, fighter? Huge Dicked Daniel is tired. He needs some R and R.” The thought of going to Russia and dealing with Petrovich all over again mentally exhausts me. I know Naomi is safe. And I know she’s got some bug up her ass about a new project, which means I’d be fighting both of them to bring her home. And for now, I’m just fucking tired of it all. I want to pull Regan into my arms and fuck her for days on end and not have to worry about anything other than running out of condoms.

“R and R is fine,” Regan says, smoothing a lock of hair from my forehead in a possessive gesture. “I just want you to know I’m with you. We’re a team now, right?”

I squeeze her tight and drop a kiss on the top of her forehead. “We’re a team.”

“So . . . what does this team do now?”

With effort, I stand up and grab my pack. Holding out my hand, I say, “We go home."

Twenty-nine

Regan

I’M HOLDING DANIEL ’S HAND AS we get out of the taxi and approach the run-down apartment building. It’s . . . kind of a dump. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“It’s the address Nick sent me, yeah.” He checks his phone again, then shrugs. “He’s Ukrainian. Maybe he thinks this is high on the hog.”

I wrinkle my nose, but in reality, it’s not that bad. It’s clean, the roof is all one piece, and there’s no trash in the streets. That automatically makes it better than most favelas. “I thought it would be . . . I don’t know. I can’t imagine Daisy in here.” Sweet, adorable little Daisy with the innocent blue eyes that went so wide every time something broke down in our old, beat-up apartment.

“He said it was a fixer-upper,” Daniel says and releases my clinging hand to sling both of our bags over his shoulder. Then, he takes it again because he knows I need him. His touch grounds me.

We’ve been out of Rio for about two days now. Two days of travel, staying in hotel rooms, and more travel. I’m not entirely sure where we’ve flown; all I know is that it wasn’t a straight line. Something about not being obvious and avoiding the wrong people. I don’t question. Daniel knows the slippery side of the law better than anyone, and I trust him to keep me safe. I’m still having nightmares, though. It’s like now that I know Hudson is dead, he’s haunting my dreams. Daniel holds me close and tells me it’s normal after what I’ve been through. He never lets me go.

He’s exactly what I need to make me feel whole again.

We head inside and no sooner do I step into the foyer of the apartment building than Daisy’s barreling down the stairs and running for me, arms outstretched.

“Regan!” she squeals in a high pitched, happy tone, and she’s on me and hugging me close before I can tell her that I don’t like to be touched by anyone but Daniel.

“Daisy,” Daniel begins, “Don’t. . .”

But it’s okay. It’s just Daisy, fragile little Daisy with her big cornflower blue eyes and dark hair and round, innocent face. Daisy, who looks like she should sing in a church choir and says sweet little prayers before bedtime. Daisy, who fell for a hit man and got me into this mess. I shove the bitterness down and hug her back. It’s not Daisy’s fault that any of this happened. And while I’m not glad I was sold into slavery, I have Daniel now. And Daniel’s all that matters.