“Don’t fucking move,” I growled at the guys and they paused as Steven appeared beside them. The camo tank top guy got cracked in the skull with Steven’s pistol, and the other got Biagio’s fist in his jaw hard enough to slam his head into the bar. Biagio kicked the guy as he slumped onto the floor, and Steven threw the camo guy over the bar. His body smashed into bottles and made the bartender stagger away.
I kicked my guy in the back of the knees then shoved his face toward the floor. He hit hard and I knelt down on his back, grabbed his hair, and slammed his face down once, twice. I stopped when I saw blood leaking from his mouth and nose, a groan escaping his lips.
The girl on the stage screamed as she tried to cover her chest. She moved away and ran backstage as my boys threw the rest of the men on the floor. The guy getting a lap dance tried to run, but Ryan caught him and punched him in the ribs.
“Cover them,” I said to Biagio and the others. Steven came with me as he stormed into the back. The bartender was huddled down behind the bar, hands over his head, not trying to move. I ignored him as I stomped down a back hall and kicked open a door. The first one was a bathroom, the second one was a dressing room for the girls. Three chicks were huddled in the corner, clearly terrified. “Don’t fucking move,” I said to them. “You’ll be fine.”
I ducked back out as Steven kicked open a door. He flipped on the light as I swept the room with my gun. “Nothing,” I grunted.
We cleared the rest of the bar. There was a kitchen with two guys that didn’t speak English cooking fried food, a store room, a walk-in refrigerator, and nothing else. No sign of Vlas, no sign of his other men.
“What do you think?” Steven asked me.
I shook my head and opened the back door. Cosimo and Chad twitched, their guns at the ready, but I held up my hand. They were standing in a cramped alleyway, garbage strewn on either side of them. “Stinks back here,” I grunted.
“No kidding. How’s it in there?” Cosimo asked.
“Not bad. Stay here, keep ready. We’re almost done.”
I went back inside and headed into the office. I flipped on the light, walked to the desk intending on ripping it apart, but stopped in my tracks.
I stared down at a knife stabbed through a photograph of Aida. It was stuck right in the middle, nothing else around it, and clearly it was meant to be found.
“Steven,” I barked.
He came running. “Found something?”
I gestured at the picture, the taste of bile in my mouth. He stared at it before pulling the knife, slipping it into his belt, and picking up the picture. “She looks good in this,” he said. “Probably from her Instagram.”
“How?” I asked him.
Steven shook his head. “It’s the same club her father robbed. Maybe he was ready.”
“Or maybe someone talked.”
“I doubt it.”
I let out a growl. “Tear through here. Find me some money.” I walked back into the main room and found my guys covering everyone, their guns out. I walked up to the first guy, the one I’d taken down, and dragged him to his feet. I pushed him against the bar and shoved my gun against his skull.
“Where’s Vlas?” I asked.
“Fuck you,” the guy said, his voice thick with a Russian accent. “Mu’dak.”
I pressed the gun harder against him, letting it dig into the skin of his temple. He winced and glared at me, but I felt him trembling under my hands.
“Where is Vlas?” I asked again.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Da.”
“Then you know your boys tried to kill me already, but two ended up dead in the street. I won’t hesitate to kill another one of you to get what I want. Now, where is your fucking boss?”
He stared at me, his eyes wide. “I don’t know,” he said again. “I swear I don’t. He told us to wait here, been three nights. No Vlas, no show up. We sit, watch girl, drink vodka. That all, I don’t know.”
I clenched my jaw and let him go. I slapped my gun across his face and felt teeth break from his jaw as blood splattered on the bar. He toppled to the floor, moaning, and I wiped the barrel of my weapon clean on my shirt.
“We’re done here,” I barked. “If any of you see Vlas, tell him I’m coming. Tell him his little games aren’t going to stop me.”
I turned and stormed toward the back. I heard my guys kicking and hitting their targets before following. Steven came out of the office, shaking his head. “Empty,” he said.
“Fuck.” I kicked open the back door, and we piled out into the alley. Cosimo led the way through the stinking trash and back onto the sidewalk. We split up then, and I went back to the original SUV with Steven on my tail. We got in the back, waited for Ryan and Biagio, then pulled back into traffic.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I growled, slamming my hand against the dash. “That fucking picture of Aida. He knew I’d show up. That was goddamn bait.”
“But it wasn’t a trap,” Steven said, his voice soft. “Those guys, they were just hung out to dry. Vlas didn’t set a trap. I don’t think he knew when you’d show up, just that you would sooner or later.”
I clenched my jaw as rage flowed through me. The picture of Aida kept flitting through my mind, and I thought about her back home, waiting for me. “Drop these two off then take me to her,” I growled to Steven before staring out the
