“Yes, I’m still thinking about how best to protect you if you reveal the serial killer and he happens to be in the room.”
“I’m not revealing the serial killer, I am just giving them tools to find him. They may have to go kick in a lot of doors of Chechens that work for them to find him.”
“Which they will do.”
“Hopefully, after I am on a plane back home.”
“Hopefully, but unlikely. They are going to find him before they allow you to leave, Nadine.”
“Why?” I asked.
“To make sure you didn’t lie to them.”
“Well Hell, I hadn’t thought of that.” I told him. “And I don’t know how to deal with it.”
“I have an idea, but it will require us to trust Apex, a lot.”
“I do trust Apex a lot,” I told him.
“Why? You don’t even know him.”
“I swear you and Ace are the only two people who haven’t figured it out yet,” I told Zeke.
“Figured what out?” He asked.
“You honestly haven’t noticed how much Apex looks like Myra? Or the fact that Apex follows Myra’s protection detail when she goes to visit her grandchildren in New Orleans?”
“You think Apex and Myra are related?”
“I am positive of it. If I had to guess, I’d say he is her brother.”
“Her brother is locked away in a nuthouse.”
“One of her brothers is locked away, the other is supposedly dead.” I corrected Zeke. “I don’t think he died as an infant like Myra told everyone, especially since when Apex was at the house when Bec showed up, I noticed he has some burn scars on his arms and lower legs. I think he got burned in the house fire, but I think he lived, and I think he became Apex. The last time Anthony took her to New Orleans, he noticed Apex following them and that when they left, Apex hung around.” I told Zeke. “He put it in his report. He also put in his report that when he told Myra of it, she told him Apex was okay, he wouldn’t hurt anyone in her family.”
“I don’t read anyone’s reports on Myra’s escort, unless they come back and tell me they had problems, I figure everything went smoothly.”
“I read them because there are fat paychecks involved in escorting her. I know she has money, I just am not sure she has that much money. I think Apex supplements her income with the jobs he does take, which just provides more evidence for my theory that Apex is Myra’s younger brother.”
“You have given this a lot of thought.” Zeke told me.
aren’t dealing with people that trust easily, so I figured someone had to tell
Aislinn she could trust Apex. I felt I
needed to know why she trusted Apex in the woods outside our house that
night. He is a contract killer, which is
not a profession that inspires confidence in people like Aislinn. She also trusted him on the roof with Xavier
when they were dealing with the over running of the FGN. It surprised me, and I wanted to know what we
were dealing with. Then that night
outside our house, I realized he has the same blue eyes as Myra, they are a
light shade of blue with a darker blue ring around them, it’s not a pattern I
have seen before, so seeing it on Apex and with his facial structure, I
realized he and Myra look a lot alike.
To some degree, I can see some of his features on Aislinn’s face
too. The only thing that makes sense is
for Apex to be Myrna’s brother.”
“ You’re right, now that you mention it, I can see it a bit too.” Zeke said. “Maybe not with Myrna, I’ve only met her a couple of times, but with Ace I can.”
“That is why I trust Apex implicitly with my safety.”
“Looking out for his niece by looking out for her friends? I mean, it isn’t like she warms up to people easily or often.” Zeke said.
“Exactly,” I told him.
“Plus, if this works, the Russian mob stops sending serial killers to our house.”
“There is that added bonus,” I agreed.
“You need sleep.” Zeke told me.
“I know, but it’s hard to sleep when you know the day is going to suck.” I told him.
“Pretend it won’t suck and that we will get in, get out, and be back on a plane headed home by tomorrow night.”
“You are a hopeless optimist.” I told him.
“Sometimes,” he kissed me gently on the forehead, wiped the last of the drying blood off his nose and upper lip and set the rag on the nightstand. I snuggled down into my pillow, happy to feel his presence behind me. It wouldn’t suck that much, I had protection and it wasn’t like the mob stood a chance of kidnapping me and holding me for ransom to get Aislinn Cain to Russia. She’d tell Apex to kill them all as opposed to coming to Russia. I would tell them that if they got any funny ideas. Plus, my uncle was going to be involved tomorrow. Normally, cops and mobsters didn’t mix, but these meetings today, were special.
Somehow, I managed to go to sleep after Zeke stopped sniffling due to the bloody nose he’d suffered. I felt tired as I turned off the alarm clock next to my head. Zeke was already up and showering. I could hear the water running as I struggled to sit up and convince myself that being awake was a good thing.
I liked a good solid nine hours of sleep a night. I rarely got it between the dogs and people in my house and my life, but that was what I preferred. I’d managed maybe six last night and they hadn’t been restful. I was dreading meeting with mobsters, even with Apex, Vasilli, Zeke, my uncle Nikolai, and the three Chechens I’d met the day before guarding me.
I dressed and realized that I smelled coffee. I investigated the room. We were in Russia not the US, hotel rooms didn’t come with coffee pots in them most of the time. Ours didn’t have one, so smelling coffee seemed weird to me. Even if we had splurged and gotten a room with a bathroom, it wasn’t a suite, which is what we would have had to get to have a coffee maker in the room. The smell was coming from the bathroom. I stuck my head in and saw a steaming paper cup on the sink counter. Zeke shut the water off.
“Where’d you get coffee?” I asked my husband as he toweled off.
“Vasilli brought me a cup about an hour ago.”
“Oh, did he bring a soda?” I asked.
“Yes,” Zeke pointed to the room and his nightstand. There was a bottle of Coca Cola on it that hadn’t had the seal broken yet. Soda in Europe is different than soda in the US. Sometimes this was a bad thing, sometimes it was just a thing. They tended to use real sugar instead of high fructose corn syrup in the recipes and most of the time I couldn’t taste a significant enough difference that I disliked it, it just didn’t taste like what I was used to. The same was true of my first drink of the Coca Cola that Vasilli had brought me.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are purely fictitious. Any resemblances to any persons, living or dead, are completely coincidental.
Copyright © Hadena James 2016
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