Page 8 of Lash

"Could you enlighten me, then?" she says, as we reach the main road leading away from the airport.

I consider. "Some of it. I am a security contractor of sorts for an individual based in Las Vegas, Nevada, in the US." I pause to mentally translate—a complicated process since neither Englishnor Croatian are my first, second, or even third languages. "There is a man known as Mercado, from South America. He is a very, very bad man. Evil, devious, cunning, and cruel. I do not know how, but somehow he is connected to you and your father, and also those two men back there. There is a plot of some kind against me, my Broken Arrow brothers, and my employer, which somehow involves you, your father, your father's men, and me. Some of my friends are here in Zagreb, held by your father. I cannot guess as to how you are connected to Mercado or why he wants you."

She frowns thoughtfully. "My father is a powerful man in Zagreb, and not just Zagreb but Croatia and beyond. I had assumed this was all something to do with him."

I shake my head. "No, Lovely One. Your father and you are pawns, as am I. I do not know how any of this connects to me and my friends, but I assume all will be made clear in time. For now, keeping you safe is our number one priority. Contacting your father and attempting to get him to see the truth of the situation is second, and freeing my friends is third."

She looks at me. "Your friends’ lives are lowest on the priority list?"

I can only shrug. "In my heart, no. But I must be pragmatic. I know your father, and he is not unreasonable. If I can keep you alive and unharmed and get in touch with him, I do not believe my friends' lives are in danger."

Tatiana nods slowly. "Yes. You are right about Tata. But you killed Filip and Ivan. How will you prove anything? Tata won't just take your word for it."

I can only shrug and shake my head. "I know. And I think it will only complicate this situation that Filip and Ivan were certainly not working alone. Mercado has nearly infinite resources and will turn the full weight of them toward regaining control of the situation."

She sighs. "Tata's resources are not infinite, but he does wield a lot of power in Zagreb. We will have his men to deal with as well."

I glance at her. "Do you know most of his men on sight?”

"Yes,” she answers. “Not all of them, but many of them. Why?"

"I respect your father. I have no quarrel with him, and I won’t kill his men if I don’t have to." I checked my mirrors but saw no sign of pursuit yet.

It's only a matter of time, I know. Mercado’s men, Stjepan's.

I drive in silence for a while, and we reach the city after a few minutes; I opt for High Town and the bustle of the newer and more monied streets. We stop at a traffic light and I glance at Tatiana Juric—the last time I saw her she was a gangly, long-legged teenager with big ideas and an even bigger attitude. She had a predilection for glitter, sequins, crop tops, short skirts, big hair, and tall boots back then. Rebellious, defiant, and troublesome. Back then, Stjepan had to employ several men just to keep tabs on his wayward, troublesome daughter and keep her out of trouble. Those men were very busy.

Now, however, she has blossomed into a stunning woman. The long, coltish, gangly legs are now the long, sleek, curvy legs of a beautiful woman in the prime of her youth. The rebellious, hotheaded girl with big ideas is now a brilliant, successful woman with the world at her feet.

She is tall, a few inches taller than me—albeit I am not a tall man. Her hair is long and jet-black and pin-straight, worn loose around her shoulders. Her eyes are a very dark brown, wide, deep, and mesmerizing. She is slender, but no longer a skinny, knobby-kneed, awkward teenage girl, but rather a curvaceous, slender grown woman.

She is beautiful.

I did not desire her back then, of course—she was a child, a mere slip of a girl, and my employer's daughter. And I knew also that such as she, Zagreb's unofficial princess, was not meant for the likes of me.

The only things that have changed in the intervening years is that she is an adult now, and I do not work for her father. She is still Zagreb's princess, and still not meant for the likes of me.

"What will we do, Lash?" she asks, breaking the spell of my thoughts.

The light turns, and I accelerate through the intersection, checking cross traffic and our backtrail for signs of pursuit—so far, so good.

"First, we get rid of this vehicle," I tell her. “Then we must develop a plan." I glance at her. “Do you have your phone?"

She shakes her head. "No. Filip took it from me and threw it when he kidnapped me. My car is still there, along with my purse and my—my girls. Ana and Katya."

I look her over—my T-shirt is enormous on her. We are nothing if not entirely too conspicuous, like this, me without a shirt, her swimming in mine, and us in this flashy car.

"We need to find clothes and a different car," I say. "And a cell phone. Do you have access to any money without your phone or purse? We cannot risk backtracking across the city to wherever those items are."

"Low Town," she says, absently answering as she thinks. "If you think it is safe, we could go to my flat. My doorman will let me in. I have cash there, and clothes. With cash, we could get a pre-paid cell."

"Is it far?" I ask, pulling over to the curb.

She looks around, assessing our location. “No, in fact, only a few blocks from here."

"Very good. We will have to be quick. I must assume your flat is being watched, but we cannot make our way out of this as we are. We need cash and a phone, and you need proper attire."

Tatiana nods. "I understand. Go to the next intersection and make a right."