Page 10 of Tangled Souls (Bratva Souls Duet #2)

MAXIM

I’m practically skipping into the warehouse to see our newest guest. Knowing that he’s waiting there for us, the asshole who thought it would be a good idea to track down our woman and threaten her, has me excited about shedding some blood. I need this.

It’s not just for me either, even though I really want to make this guy suffer. Kirill needs answers and not being here with us is going to weigh heavily on him. I do think he’s right where he’s supposed to be though.

If he were here with us, I’m not sure we’d get any fucking answers. Kirill would have walked into the room, taken one look at the asshole, and killed him.

Not a single question would have been asked, let alone answered.

This way we have a chance to find out his deal.

“I know who this guy is,” Huck’s voice stops me in my tracks before I open the door leading to the basement which is outfitted for wet work.

Since he’s behind me because I wasn’t going to wait for them, I turn around slowly. My eyebrows shoot up toward my hairline as I look at him expectantly.

“I did a little digging on the way here,” he explains. “He’s Mikhail’s cousin. It’s the only Adam I could find. Adam Peterson. He’s the son of Anatoly’s sister who wasn’t part of the business at all. She avoided it all her life. She got married and had Adam.”

“Does this mean I can just kill him?” The question is hopeful as fuck as it slips from my lips.

Huck shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “No, we still need to ask him a few questions. He might know more about Mikhail’s plan or maybe we can use him as leverage later.”

“You’re no fucking fun,” I grumble as I head toward the door leading downstairs.

I almost roll my eyes when I think about how Mikhail targeted our last wet work designated warehouse. If he thought it was going to slow us down, or even put a dent in our operation, he didn’t do enough research. Kirill is the kind of man who thrives on being prepared.

Which is why I know Adam getting close to Oaklynn will be eating at him. He’ll be blaming himself and trying to figure out how to lock our woman down. The thing is, she won’t let that happen.

Our wife is independent. As she should be.

Our wife is stubborn as hell. Which means she’ll go toe-to-toe with Kirill and not back down. It’s what he needs.

Our wife is smart. She’ll know exactly what Kirill needs, give it to him, and then convince him that wrapping her in wool and trying to keep danger away from her isn’t going to work.

Not in our world.

It’s not like I don’t want to keep her safe, I desperately do, but every day is filled with variables I can’t foresee. I could be lost in the unknown, in all the possibilities of what could go wrong, or I can trust our woman.

I choose to trust her. She can protect herself, even if I never want her to have to do so. None of us can be with her all the time and I won’t stifle her because of my own needs. That would be cruel and make us no better than her dead father.

None of us want that.

Adam’s head snaps up when I walk into the room. I don’t bother looking around the sparse room. You don’t need much when it comes to torture. The best feature is the drain in the middle of the floor.

“Comfortable?” My question is a taunt that I hope gets under his skin.

Adam sneers at me but keeps his mouth closed. Pity.

I grab the brass knuckles from the table as I pass it, my eyes locked on the idiot in front of me. Slipping the weapon on my hand, I relax my fingers before curling them into a fist.

“Hurting me would be a mistake,” Adam tries to keep the wobble out of his voice, but I can hear it.

“Oh? Why would that be?”

“You don’t want to piss my cousin off,” he warns.

I pout and slump my shoulders. “Is your cousin really important or something? Is that why I should be afraid of them?”

Baker clears his throat behind me, but I know it’s only to cover his laughter. Toying with this imbecile is more entertaining than it should be. He has no idea that he’ll never see the light of day again.

“You definitely don’t want to piss my cousin off,” Adam states.

Even with me standing in front of him, the fear in his eyes has nothing to do with me. It’s all about his cousin.

“Your cousin, Mikhail,” Huck growls from where he’s leaning against the wall.

Adam’s eyes snap over to him, the surprise evident on his face. It’s almost comical.

I turn toward Huck and give him a look. “Why do you have to take away all my fun?”

Huck shrugs, unaffected by my warning look. “I don’t want to be here all night. Let’s get the answers we need and then head home.” He turns his gaze toward Adam. “We know Mikhail is your cousin. We know you didn’t grow up the same way Mikhail did. How the fuck did he get you mixed up in his mess?”

Adam’s shoulders deflate and he shakes his head. “I’m not going to answer any of your questions.”

Baker sighs before picking up a knife from the table. He smirks as he approaches Adam. “I understand this isn’t the first time you’ve had a knife pulled on you tonight. Our wife is quite impressive, isn’t she?”

Adam curls his lip, but it’s all bravado. “Your wife is a whore. I know all about her. She was supposed to marry Mikhail, but my cousin didn’t want her.” He scoffs, “Why would he?”

Baker tsks, but that’s the only warning he gives before he plunges the knife into Adam’s thigh. He’s careful about where he places the wound. Adam screams out in pain.

Before he even has a chance to process what is happening to him, I land two quick punches to his gut. He doubles over in the chair as he gasps for breath.

“Here’s what is going to happen,” my voice is cold as I get in Adam’s face, “you’re going to tell us everything you know about Mikhail and his plans. You’re absolutely going to explain why you sat down next to our wife tonight.”

“No,” he groans.

“Yes,” there’s a demand in my voice.

“You’re not going to make it out of this room,” Huck warns him coldly. “Right now, the only thing you can do is ensure your death is quick. Or you can endure unfathomable torture. We’ve had a lot of practice at it.”

“I’m not a fucking rat,” Adam spits.

“Oh good,” I punch him again, this one a jab to his nose which has no hope of holding up and fractures, “I was hoping you wouldn’t take the easy way out.”

Baker grunts and slams the knife into Adam’s other leg. We don’t let up. I land punches and Baker stabs Adam, always careful about where he’s plunging the knife into him. There’s no doubt in our mind that he will die.

But will it be tonight?

In a week?

That has yet to be seen.

“Let’s see if he’s ready to answer our questions now,” Huck sounds bored as fuck behind us.

I glance over at Baker to find blood splattered all over him. I don’t even have to look down at my clothes to know I look roughly the same. With a smile on my face, I head over to the tray and drop the brass knuckles down, flexing my fingers once the weight is gone.

Baker’s voice is a low demand, “Tell us about Mikhail and how you got mixed up in his shit, and the point of tonight’s stunt with our wife.”

Adam’s head lolls to the side and he can barely open either of his eyes to look at us. When he coughs, some blood sprays out of his mouth and Baker steps back quickly with a look of disgust on his face. The room smells like urine, and I realize that I didn’t even notice when he pissed himself.

I can’t help the bark of laughter that bursts from me. Baker looks at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind, but all I do is wave my hand dismissively.

“I didn’t realize he pissed himself. You think he shit himself too?” Another round of chuckles takes me under, and it takes a moment to get myself under control.

“Fuck you,” Adam rasps, but there’s no heat behind the words. How could there be? The man is a mangled mess.

And it’s only going to get worse from here.

“I didn’t know Mikhail when I was growing up,” Adam starts, his voice soft and broken, his words barely discernable with the way they’re slurring as the pain really sets in.

Then there’s the blood loss; it’s probably not helping matters but I don’t really give a fuck.

“Mom made sure I didn’t have contact with that side of the family tree.

” He closes his eyes briefly, pain etched across his face as he mutters, “I wish it would have stayed that way.”

“You made a choice, there’s no reason to waste a wish on bullshit completely in your control,” I point out.

Adam’s eyes crack open, and he lets out a labored breath.

“Maybe,” he offers, almost conceding but not quite.

“A few months ago, Mikhail came to me. He told me about what could be gained by being behind him. I didn’t want any part of it at first, but then he threatened my mom even though she is his blood.

I figured doing what he wanted was worth saving her and I would benefit from it. He promised me a life of luxury.”

“Loyalty under duress is no loyalty at all,” Huck mutters under his breath.

When I meet his gaze, I give a nod of agreement. Mikhail is desperate and it shows.

“I was just supposed to sit next to Oaklynn tonight and chat her up, be charming while threatening her. Mikhail just wanted to get a read on her. He said she was a meek, stuck-up bitch.”

My fists clench and I step forward to show him just what I think about his words. Before I can get to him, Baker is there and backhanding him across his already bloody, bruised, and swollen face. Adam lets out a whimper which sounds more animal than man.

“Guess it’s a good thing you won’t have the chance to report to him about the kind of woman our wife really is,” I spit the words as the control I’m barely holding onto frays a little bit more.

“Mikhail is coming for you,” Adam looks at each of us, his eyes clear of the pain for a moment, “and he’s going to start with your wife. She’s your weakness. Mikhail doesn’t have one. Everyone is expendable to him.”

“His arrogance is going to be his downfall and his maniacal need for power that will never be his. He probably dresses it all up in revenge, but he only wants power. He won’t get it,” I vow.

Adam slumps back, his head falling forward, “Doesn’t matter to me either way. I’m already dead.”

Now he’s getting it.

Baker kicks at his foot, but he doesn’t move. We watch for a moment, his chest rising and falling, even if the movement is shallow. He’s passed out; I’m mildly surprised he lasted as long as he did.

I share a look with Huck and Baker which speaks volumes. We’ll be keeping him alive. For now.

He might come in handy later. We’ll have someone come and clean him up and dress his wounds before he’s put in one of the cells down here.

“At least he didn’t seem to think Mikhail is going to come and rescue him,” I mutter while looking over at Adam.

Baker snorts out a laugh. “Mikhail doesn’t give a fuck about him. Cousin or not.”

I look at the blood on Baker and then down at myself. “Let’s go home. We need to fill in Kirill and I need to hold our wife.”

With one more look at Adam, I leave the room without looking back. I can feel Baker and Huck fall into step behind me.

Torture isn’t new to me. Being able to get the answers out of people who want to keep their silence and secrets has been a point of pride.

But now all I can think about is getting home to Oaklynn.

Fuck, what has this woman done to me? And why do I like it so much?