Page 5 of Claim Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #2)

K azimir

A storm had made for a longer flight than necessary, which had driven me into a shitty mood.

Where the fuck were the police? Why the hell weren’t they protecting Charlie?

I was furious as I stormed down the corridor even after barking at the nurse who’d attempted to keep me from visiting my friend.

Somewhere along the way I’d demanded to talk to the detective in charge. Given my rude or what some would call obnoxious behavior, I had a feeling my request would be honored.

Reaching Charles’ room, I slowed and stood in front of the huge glass pane.

The curtain had been pulled all the way back, allowing anyone passing by to see my friend’s condition.

There were no security guards, no family members waiting for any news as to his condition. It was something else to piss me off.

Did no one care about what he’d been through?

He’d never been a huge guy but had bulked up during his stint working for my father’s company.

Now he appeared frail, lifeless. I took a few seconds trying to put myself in the right frame of mind to see and talk with him.

If that was possible. He had an oxygen mask covering his face to help him breathe. What had the fuckers done to him?

Whoever had attacked him would pay a hefty price.

I took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

The source of the pumping sound was identified the moment I walked into Charlie’s ICU room. I stopped just inside the doorway, anger swelling to the surface.

I’d never even known he and his family had moved from New York to Seattle, although I’d heard his father had been dead set on owning and operating a casino like the ones my father and uncle had designed and managed to build into prosperous empires decades before.

Learning something so monumental reminded me just how many years had slipped through my fingers while attempting to achieve the American dream. I moved to the end of the bed, casually glancing at the various monitors he was attached to. Heart and blood pressure, oxygen and brain activity.

His skin was a shade of gray indicating he was steps away from death, something the nurse had warned me about. Along with reminding me not to stay more than a few minutes.

Exhaling, I remained quiet, fearful I’d wake him, but I’d sensed the urgency in his tone. Perhaps he knew he wasn’t going to recover. I moved closer, peering down at my old friend. Until now, it appeared time and perseverance had given him the success his father has shoved in his face.

He was in a private hospital and private room, something only the best insurance could afford.

When he didn’t move, I shifted toward the window, staring out at the gray day.

With no knowledge of his recent past, I felt helpless.

I’d soon need to learn about his next of kin.

I had no clue whether his mother and father were even still alive, and he’d rarely talked about them to begin with.

We’d both been in our early twenties, sowing our wild oats since our fathers had money to burn.

Yeah, I’d been a playboy all right. In some ways, I still was, refusing to spend more than a few hours with a single woman.

Charlie and I had adopted the philosophy that there were far too many fish in the sea to settle down early.

Funny. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had shared my bed.

Now, closing in on forty, I was already wondering about what my financial accomplishments meant in the scheme of life. Had money brought me happiness? Not to the degree those without money believed.

“Mmmm… Kaz.”

The deep, strangled rumble of his voice startled me. I turned my head, noticing he was searching the room, even attempting to sit up. He’d ripped down the mask, exposing his face and his breathing was labored.

Moving quickly, I stood over him as I’d done before. “Hey there, buddy. Don’t try and move. Your nurse already doesn’t like me very much.”

At first, there was utter relief in his eyes followed by an expression of fear, but he tried to hide it. “Hey, man. Knowing you, I thought you’d have her number by now.” He winced as he shifted, even reaching for the pillow.

I fluffed it the best I could, the anger only building.

Laughing, I shook my head. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Or as handsome.” He coughed, his blood pressure immediately spiking. He heard the blip and briefly closed his eyes. “I’m dying, Kaz.”

“Hey, don’t say that shit.”

“I’m no fool. The surgeons did their best, but there’s too much internal damage. I’m bleeding internally. They’re fearful I’ll die on the table if I go back into surgery.”

“I’ll find better doctors.”

“Even your money can’t fix this.”

“Who did this?”

“Popov. Fucking Russian. Some henchman sporting a beard and a bad attitude did his bidding.” He coughed and I sucked in my breath.

I thought about the name as well as the area.

“Vladimir Popov?” When he nodded, I tensed.

Popov was also Russian Bratva, his reputation as a butcher widely known all throughout Russia.

My father had mentioned he’d finally left his homeland for America.

And my father’s sentiment had been not to cross the man.

Since Popov wasn’t in our arena and had yet to attempt to do business in Las Vegas or Reno, I’d paid little attention to his antics.

“Why?”

Charlie fisted his hand around the sheet. “That’s not important just yet.”

“Then what is?”

“You need to protect her.”

“Protect who? Your wife?” I had absolutely no idea who he was talking about. Another product of losing touch. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

He shook his head slowly, licking his cracked lips as he attempted to focus. The flash of numbers on the machine indicated he was under severe duress. “My baby sister.”

Sister. I didn’t know he had a sister. “Where is she? What are you worried about?”

Charlie managed to grip my hand, his hold much stronger than I would believe possible. “Listen to me. My dad did something stupid, making promises. A loan. Stupid man. He paid the price. So did my mom. I refused to allow my sister to be hurt. She’s special. She’s beautiful.”

“Slow down. What about your mom and dad?”

He shook as if bargaining with the devil for more time. “Go to my house. There’s a safe in my bedroom behind my dresser. Do you remember the amount I always bet in blackjack?”

Fuck me. He was asking me to remember something from way too long ago. Then it came to me. “Yeah, I do.” What had his father promised? “Where are your parents?”

He smiled. “I knew you’d remember. They’re dead. Killed. My sister doesn’t know what happened. It will kill her. You’ll find answers and papers inside the safe. A will. A flash drive. You’ll know what to do.” My God, he was fading. He forced his eyes open again. “Are my clothes here?”

I could barely understand his words, his voice scratchy, likely from a breathing tube.

“Let me see.” I moved toward the small closet, throwing open the door. “Yes, they are.”

“Bring my jacket to me.”

As I pulled it into my hands, I hissed. He’d been shot at least three times in the chest, the burn marks indicating they’d been fired from close range. Blood remained splattered on the fabric, the dull coppery scent keeping my anger at a heightened state.

I did as he asked, constantly checking the monitors. As soon as I laid it across his chest, he took several labored breaths and reached inside. “My wallet. There is a key to my house. You’ll see the address on my license. Check it.”

Invading his privacy seemed wrong on every level, but I pulled the license into my fingers, showing it to him.

“Good. She’s special. I did… my best to… protect her.”

“Charlie.” I was more emotional than I thought I’d be.

“Don’t worry. You can still protect her.

” My mind tried to process what in the fuck had occurred.

If only I’d paid more attention to his friendship, I wouldn’t feel at such a terrible loss.

How in the hell could I help him when I had no fucking clue what was going on?

I shoved the entire wallet into my pocket, checking the jacket for anything else that might be of use.

There was no weapon, no other papers, but if the cops had been here, they would have taken anything pertinent to the case.

“A trust fund for Marissa. They’ve been following her. They’ll take her. She’s all… I have… left.”

What did he say?

Marissa? Hold on. Wait a minute.

What the… No, just a coincidence.

Then I thought about the home base of the orchestra. Seattle. I checked his license again, staring at his last name. Valentine. Fuuuuck. I’d coveted my friend’s younger sister. Not acceptable. There were certain unwritten codes, realities of honor that even I wouldn’t cross.

I shoved the license into my pocket, scrubbing my jaw. Now wasn’t the time for confessions.

“Promise me you’ll keep her safe,” Charlie begged. “Please. I’m so sorry. I tried to be a good brother. I just… Too strong. Too powerful.”

“I’ll protect her with my life. Charlie. Stay with me.” What he was asking was huge. Whatever promise Charlie’s father had made to Popov wouldn’t be ignored. Men like Vladimir didn’t just walk away. They claimed what belonged to them.

Well, fuck. This could lead to a war that I certainly hadn’t anticipated.

Or wanted.

Yet I’d make good on my promise to keep her safe at all costs.

“What else can you tell me, Charlie?”

Tears filled his eyes and as he’d done before, he clutched my hand.

His expression was imploring. There was so much guilt and despair that it gripped an emotional part of me that I usually ignored.

Where was Marissa? I needed backup at this point, soldiers who could protect us both while the shit was sorted out.

“Where is Marissa?”

“Flew in from a concert in Los Angeles.”