14
Jax stuck his hands into his pockets and waited for her. Trinity watched Oleg until he’d returned to the gray darkness of the hotel and then turned to Chibs, who gave her a nod and went to stand by the lobby entrance, lighting up a cigarette. In the sepia hue of imminent dawn, she looked rough and beautiful in equal measure, and Jax could see the hesitation in her—the love she had for this man she’d chosen.
I’m the least of her concerns, Jax thought. Trinity had put herself in the middle of a quiet little desert war zone. Maybe she hadn’t known what she was getting herself into, but Oleg had known, and if he loved Trinity, he could have kept her out of it. Should have.
Jax kept his hands in his pockets as Trinity approached him.
“You didn’t tell Oleg and his buddies who you were.”
“I told them who I was,” Trinity explained. “I just didn’t tell them who you were, or who my father was. It didn’t seem relevant. Sort of like us talking about Belfast—it seemed like it could only do more harm than good.”
Jax smiled. “It’s good to see you, Trinity.”
She shook her head with a sigh and put her arms around him, forcing Jax to pull his hands from his pockets and return the embrace. Trinity trembled slightly, and he pulled her tighter.
He had a sister. The idea had taken some getting used to, but here and now, with her solid and alive, he felt a bond he’d never imagined.
“I wish you’d known Tommy,” he said quietly.
Trinity backed away, one hand still on his arm. “So do I.”
Jax nodded. “We live through this, we’re gonna have to get to know each other a little more.”
She smiled, but thinly, as if she had zero faith in both of them surviving their time with the Bratva.
“So you found me,” she said. “What now?”
“Maureen wants you home.”
The sun breached the horizon, warm light spilling across the land. Her face glowed with the bright gold of morning.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere. I—”
“You love him,” Jax interrupted. “Figured you’d say that.”
“And?”
Jax touched the bruised flesh on the left side of his face, wincing. “I’ve got my own issues with Lagoshin now. Not to mention, I want to make sure I’m leaving you safer than I found you. Can’t very well tell Maureen I left her baby in the middle of a gang war. I figure we’ll throw in with your pal Sokolov, settle debts, make some new peace. As long as they don’t try to kill me.”
Trinity exhaled. This time it was she who put her hands in her pockets.
“They’ve got to know if they kill you, they’ll have to kill me, too.”
“You think they won’t?” Jax asked.
“I’m not an idiot,” she said. “I know they’ll put their brotherhood before anything else. Maybe even Oleg, if it came to it. He loves me, but I can’t be sure, ya know?”
“That’s not an answer.”
Trinity shrugged. “I think most of ’em would hesitate before tryin’ to kill me.”
“Somehow I don’t feel reassured.”
Jax glanced along the road, wondering how long before Opie returned. Then he gestured for Trinity to lead the way to the hotel.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I don’t want them taking Luka out without me there. I want to make sure they remember who brought him to the dance.”
With the sunrise creeping across the parking lot, they joined up with Chibs and went through the doors into the hotel lobby. Two of the Bratva men were still there, but there was no sign of Kirill, Oleg, or Luka.
“Where are they?” Trinity asked.
The Russians eyed Jax and Chibs with distrust. “Swimming pool.”
Again, Trinity led the way. Jax felt the weight of his gun against his lower back, but he ignored the alarm bells in his head. These guys weren’t going to shoot him in the back while he walked away, not without the boss’s orders, and he didn’t think they’d been given that green light just yet.
The hotel corridors had a dry, dusty smell, with just a hint of mold. They passed one numbered door after another, a dead ice machine and a soda machine whose face had been pried open, a handful of soda cans left inside.
A heavy metal door at the back of the building led out into a fenced area on the east side of the hotel. The main road was visible from the walkway between the back door and the gate, but inside that fence and the overgrown shrubbery around it, they would be shielded from sight.
As Trinity grabbed the gate and dragged it open with a scrape of rusty hinges, they heard Luka cry out in pain. Jax quickened his pace and Chibs followed.
The pool was empty, caked with a thin layer of grime. The patio around it was cracked and shot through with weeds. Down inside the pool were Kirill, Oleg, and three other Russians. One of the faded deck chairs had been placed in the center of the empty pool, and Luka sat there bleeding.
“Scream in pain if it makes you feel better,” Kirill said. “But don’t scream for help. No one out here is going to help you.”
Jax cleared his throat to get their attention. All six men whipped around to stare at him, then noticed Chibs and Trinity. The hope on Luka’s features was pitiful.
“I can see you’re in the middle of something,” Jax said. “But if you can spare two minutes, I’d like to talk about where we stand.”
Kirill stared at Jax as if he might spit on him.
“Think of it this way,” Jax said. “The longer you keep him waiting, the more he’s gonna torture himself thinking about how long he’ll be able to keep from telling you what you want to know. It’ll be agony.”
Trinity stood at his side, shoulder to shoulder. Kirill glanced at her, saw the solidarity there, and then looked at Oleg. The nod was almost imperceptible—not enough to make the other Russians question who was in charge—but it was clear that Oleg was Kirill’s second, and the boss valued his input.
“Timur,” Kirill said to one of his men, “break both his thumbs.”
Luka did not beg. He glared at Timur and bared his teeth, refusing to show fear.
As Kirill walked up the steps from the empty pool, Timur started his work. Luka screamed. Instead of a triumphant smile, Kirill wore an expression of deep sadness.
“He’ll talk,” Jax said.
“Of course he will,” Kirill said. “But I wish he wouldn’t make us hurt him. We were friends once.”
“You and Lagoshin are at war. Unless one of you waves the white flag, a lot of your friends are gonna die.”
Kirill gave him a sidelong glance, his face a grim mask, but he said nothing. They went out through the gate, and Kirill set off around the back of the hotel. Chibs followed, but stopped outside the gate, where he could keep an eye on them without Kirill thinking he was trying to eavesdrop. Jax and Kirill strode together to a broad swath of scrubland that looked out on the foothills as the sunlight seared the tops of the mountains, the hot line of its glare moving downward, touching more of the land.
Kirill stopped, staring at the golden aura of early-morning light on the mountains.
“Just so we have no misunderstandings,” Jax said, “you should know I’m armed.”
“I expected you would be.”
“That doesn’t concern you?”
Kirill turned to face him. “You’d have to be suicidal to kill me right here.”
“I have no interest in killing you.”
Kirill smiled thinly, as if to remind Jax that the feeling was not at all mutual. “You wanted to speak with me privately,” he said. “Here we are.”
Jax scraped his fingers through his beard, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve had a lot of new beginnings in my life lately. Not anything you’d give a shit about. Personal stuff. The past relationship between the Bratva and my club is complicated. There’s a lot of bad blood there. You think we killed Putlova. Clearly I’m not gonna convince you otherwise, just like you’re not going to confirm it was your men who tried to put me and Opie in the ground the other day.”