The next morning, Jenna woke to an empty room. She had grown accustomed to silence when Cal had left for boarding school. She had her peaceful apartment. She was free to follow her own schedule. The eighty-hour workweek for weeks on end of residency was a thing of the past. She missed Cal, and suddenly she also missed Ryan.
A knock came at her door.
She pulled on the closest shirt—one of Ryan’s—and walked to the peephole.
“Jenna, it’s Ryan.”
She swung the door open and let him inside the hotel room. She looked down at the paper cups in his hands. “Coffee. My hero.” She took the one he handed to her.
“Raf-coffee.”
She gave him a quizzically look.
“It’s a Russian favorite. Espresso, cream, sugar.”
“Sounds perfect.” She took a sip. “Tastes perfect.”
She took another sip and savored the warmth as it slipped down her throat. She set the cup down and ran her hands along her arms. “Can we lie together? Can you hold me for a while?”
He set his coffee down and pulled her to the bed with him. “I can do that.”
She curled into him and laid her head on his chest. “I never considered myself a snuggler, but there’s something magical about this spot. Like I could rest here in any room in any country and it would feel like home.”
He squeezed her shoulder.
“It seems crazy that I could feel that way even with the fabric of my own reality unraveling around me.”
“It’ll get better. But I don’t mind accepting the compliment.”
She fidgeted with a button on his shirt.
He spoke in a soothing, confident voice. “In a few days and lots of jet lag later, Ernesto will have what he wants. You’ll be able to walk away. Life will resume some semblance of normality.”
“I was shaken up after that explosion.”
“As expected.”
“You weren’t scared.”
“I was unconscious.”
She flicked a finger at his chest. “You know what I mean.”
He chuckled. “I’m trained to react differently. But I’ve been afraid for you. Afraid of what all of this would do to you. You’re holding up well.” He ran his hand along her arm and down to her hand where he linked fingers with hers.
“Thanks to you.”
“I don’t mind accepting the compliment.”
She stayed in his arms, marveling at the comfort they offered. It was as though his presence blanketed her fear like a snug sleeping bag, keeping it contained.
After lunch, Jenna insisted they leave the hotel room and do some type of walking tour. She couldn’t be stuffed inside a hotel room one minute longer. Their flight back to Miami wasn’t until tomorrow.
Ryan considered the request carefully. He seemed to finally convince himself that since both Rider SI and Pronin’s team concluded Vladimir was yesterday’s target, little risk existed in being tourists for half a day. Nevertheless, he took a dizzying route downtown. Jenna was certain they crossed the Moskva River three times before finally parking near the Red Square.
She closed her passenger car door. “That seemed thorough.”
“Making sure we didn’t have a tail.”
She nodded. “What do you suppose Max and Reece are up to?”
“They’re looking into the attack on Pronin with Claire’s help. She might be able to confirm that the Argentinians are culpable.”
Jenna appreciated that Ryan seemed open to discussing events with her. “You don’t shield me from details. I appreciate that. I don’t want kid gloves.”
He put an arm around her, leading her down Ilyinka. “You’ve repeatedly proven how tough you are—the bar, the Cubans, the Russians. I won’t insult you with secrets and half-truths. If Rider SI continues down this path of entanglement with the Russian mafia, it might get more dangerous. I don’t know.”
“I feel safe with you.”
“I’ll keep you safe. Seems like that goes both ways. Max told me you pulled my gun and fired a few rounds at our attackers.”
Jenna cleared her throat. “In their general direction. I don’t think I was any real threat.”
“It gave Max time to get in position and take advantage of the distraction. Are you holding up okay?”
Jenna swallowed. “Surprisingly, yes. Though I’ll feel better when everything is behind me.”
Ryan kissed her forehead. “Soon, Jenna.”
She cherished the few hours with Ryan close to her in the Red Square, so named, he explained, because krasnaya meant both ‘red’ and ‘beautiful’ in Russian. They meandered together simply as tourists enjoying the historic landmark. She relaxed into the role, encouraging him to talk about what Russian history he knew. The Red Square transformed from a marketplace to ceremonial grounds over the decades. Numerous fires and demolitions over hundreds of years had resulted in many of the original buildings being replaced.
The breathtaking St. Basil’s Cathedral had been built under Ivan IV. Its vibrant colors stood in stark contrast to the pale blue sky beyond it. They walked hand-in-hand from the cathedral to the Kremlin to the state historical museum.
“Previous work brought you to Russia?” Jenna asked.
Ryan nodded. “Protection detail for an American businessman’s daughter. She was eight, and he hired Maxine’s team for three months—the duration of his stay overseas. I took an online course in the month before the trip to learn about the culture and a little of the language. Dorian has the best Russian.”
“Dorian. I haven’t met him yet.”
“He’s on another assignment, but you will. He has a daughter starting college soon. You’ll meet all of the team eventually.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ll have to ask Dorian for some advice since Cal is only a few years from college.”
“And who else on the Jenna Masters’ team should I meet?”
“Well, you met Jess. She’s the main event. We’ve been inseparable since residency. Carmen is another critical care doctor and a friend. Kat, one of the nurses I work with, is also a good friend. She and I have done occasional trips to the museums in Chicago and Navy Pier.”
Jenna took a shaky breath and, stopping, turned to Ryan. His expression, with his rich, brown eyes and curve of his lips, warmed her to the core. “Thank you for everything. Thank you for your persistence in Antigua, your card, your rescue, your affection.”
He cupped her chin in his hand—warm, rough with callouses but still gentle. “You’re welcome, solnirshko moyo.”
The trip back to Miami was uneventful. In yet another hotel room, Jenna paced the carpeted floor as the phone range. She felt awkward making the call with Ryan listening and Reece recording. She hadn’t spoken with Brad in a year. She felt too emotionally exhausted from all of the travel and meetings to give him the tongue-lashing he deserved.
“Hello?”
“Brad.”
“Jenna! You’re okay. Thank god. Things got out of hand and the Cubans got carried away. I’m okay. I’ve been recuperating.”
“It must have been hard for you.” Her voice was devoid of sympathy.
“Yeah. I thought they were going to kill me. I’m lucky to be alive.”
Jenna kept her voice flat. “I could have used a heads up.” She was done wasting energy being upset with Brad or expecting anything but failure from him.
He is who he is.
Nothing she could say or ever had said would change him. He would always be a troll. Now, the cards were dealt and Brad’s fate was sealed.
“God. I know, babe. I wanted to warn you, but I was beaten to a pulp.”
Not that he asked, but, “Cal is okay.”
“Right, Cal. Good. He’s safe?”
“I’ve worked out a plan. We’re meeting with Ernesto tonight.” She gave him the address and time. “Bring your passport.”
“Jeez, Jenna. Where are we going?”
“Twelve million is a lot of money, Brad.”
“I’m sure we can work something out. You make a physician’s salary.”
There he was muddling through and still expecting her to pay for his mistakes. He didn’t consider what portion of her hard-earned money went to Cal’s boarding school—to which Brad contributed nothing. What remained would not cover his debt. Not in this lifetime.
“I did work something out. I’ll see you there.” She turned off the phone.
Ryan took off the headphones and gave her a solemn nod.
“Think he’ll come?”
“He’ll come,” Ryan replied.
“He didn’t even ask if his son was okay. Ernesto could have kidnapped Cal to begin with instead of me. Brad didn’t even consider that.”
“I hate that he still has the power to upset you, but I can’t say I’m surprised at his behavior. He’s a certifiable asshole.”
“Am I going to extremes?”
“No.” Ryan walked up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “If you ask me, he deserves worse than what you’ve arranged.”
She looked into his strong features, feeling the power radiating from his aura.
“One day, I’ll have to tell Cal what I’ve done.”
“What you were cornered into doing,” he corrected her. “I’ll be there to help you.”
She leaned into him.
Brad phoned Ernesto repeatedly. He left several messages. Finally on the fourth dial, he answered.
“Brad, I’m trying to enjoy a poolside afternoon. What is so urgente?”
“Jenna called me about the meet.”
“Si, we are meeting. Everything is arranged.”
“I want to be straight with you, Ernesto. I know I messed up before, but I’m being upfront now. I think my ex-wife is planning something. She told me to come and bring my passport.” He wiped a sweaty palm on his jeans as he paced his apartment living room.
“You think she is planning to flee the county?” Ernesto’s tone sharpened.
“I don’t know what she’s planning, but I want you to know that I’m not part of any double-cross.”
What was the crazy bitch thinking? Bring a passport? He wasn’t going to run away with her. Maybe he should be touched by the gesture, but the idea of living in another country terrified him. He knew enough Spanish to live in Mexico, but one did not hid out from the Cuban mafia in Mexico. Where could they hide? What country had modern amenities and didn’t despise Americans? Australia?
Besides, he wasn’t going to be tied down to her and on a stipend like she had done before, treating him like a damn teenager with an allowance.
“You think she has no intention of repaying me?”
“It didn’t sound like it.” He knew he was throwing her to the chupacabras, but not only was fleeing ridiculous, the ability to conjure such a scheme meant she had a sizable stash of money. He knew she had been playing him. Holding out on him. Stingy bitch. Instead of paying Ernesto a token of good faith, she was going to get them both killed by trying to run.
Jenna didn’t usually think outside the box like this. She must have hired help. Brad remembered the phone call he had received after Jenna’s kidnapping—some guy looking for Jenna. His voice was demanding and authoritative. Brad had holed up in his apartment of the next few days, wondering if police would come for him. No one came. Had she hired protection? How would she have done that so soon?
“Brad, gracias para tu honestidad.”
“I don’t want to screw things up again.”
“Smart thinking.”
“What do you want me to do, Ernesto?”
“Play along tomorrow night. Join us, bring your passport or not. I will make sure she’s cornered like a mouse. She won’t escape.”
Jenna rolled her neck and shoulders under the weight of the Kevlar vest as she listened to the pouring rain striking the SUV. She hadn’t had any caffeine but she felt wired despite it being nearly midnight.
Ryan gave her a squeeze on her thigh.
Show time.
Jenna, Ryan, Reece, and Maxine exited the vehicle. They walked through the pouring rain into the warehouse. Jenna felt her now damp navy yoga pants cling to her skin. Ryan had advised her to wear clothing she could be mobile in so cotton pants and a loose shirt were an easy choice. Her sneakers felt slightly slick on the smooth surface of the warehouse. Another empty warehouse.
Doesn’t anyone use storage space these days?
In the middle of the vast empty building stood Ernesto Busta and five of his goons. No, four. One man stood to Ernesto’s right looking smug—Brad. The creator of this entire debacle stood casually as though he were Ernesto’s right hand man. As though tonight’s meeting was about relieving his obligation. As though he thought he should be redeemed. As though he hadn’t nearly made their son motherless.
“Maxine Rider,” Ernesto greeted her with a wolfish smile. “You must pardon my behavior last time we met. It seems I underestimated your resources and skills.”
“Apology accepted.”
Jenna glanced at Maxine with her cargo pants and gun on her hip.
Ernesto seemed to realize she was a contender given her meeting with Vladimir. Did he understand she towered above him on the badass food chain? Perhaps. She had the clout to go above Ernesto, straight to the Russian mafia. Jenna’s role in saving Vladimir’s nephew eased negotiations, but only Maxine’s reputation and relationship with Vladimir made the meeting possible.
Ernesto turned his winning smile toward Jenna. “Dr. Masters, you have had an eventful few weeks.”
You have no idea, Busta.
Since he didn’t know about the Argentina hit, he didn’t know the half of it.
He continued, “It delights me to know my unpleasant role in your life has concluded.”
“Gracias,” she said.
Brad’s brow wrinkled in the first sign of confusion. He was obviously realizing he had missed events that transpired. Since no one told him about the Russian mafia, he would be confused.
“Bueno. Let us conclude our negocio, sí?”
Jenna nodded grimly.
On cue, Vladimir’s team materialized—Mikhail, Sonya, and Ruslan. Raindrops on their black suits glistened by the fluorescent lights of the warehouse. Tattoos snaked up their necks—black ink on pale skin. They looked like a hit squad. Merciless.
Ernesto and his men took several relaxed steps back, leaving Brad exposed.
His eyes grew wide. “Jenna, what the hell is going on?” Brad’s voice cracked.
She felt a pang of sorrow for Brad, but the deal had been sealed. Twelve million wiped off the record in exchange for the debt on Mikhail’s life fulfilled and Brad Masters’ involuntary servitude to the Russian mafia.
Jenna steeled her resolve. This was the only solution, the only way to keep Cal safe from his father’s idiocy. “You’re accounting error cost Ernesto twelve million dollars of debt to the Russian mafia. The Russians are forgiving Ernesto in exchange for you.”
“Jenna, no. Don’t do this.” His face blanched. “Think about Cal.”
“I am thinking about Cal. You are a danger to him. You have to be kept on a leash.”
Privyaz’, Vladimir had told her the word for leash in Russian.
The Russians stood on either side to escort Brad.
“Mr. Masters, come with us, pozhaluysta.”
Brad shook and appeared as though he might vomit. The two men supported his arms as he walked away with them.
How long would Brad survive? Vladimir had made it clear to Jenna that if she chose to forfeit his life to the Russians, they would end Brad if he was ineffective or dangerous. She would have to tell her son his father was never coming back to visit. She needed to accept that one day his life insurance check would arrive unannounced.
“Mucho gusto, Maxine Rider.” Ernesto gave them a polite tip of his head as he slipped out of the warehouse with his men.
Jenna released a shaky breath into the empty space before them.
Reece stroked his mustache. “So many assholes in one room, and I didn’t get to shoot anybody.”
Maxine turned to walk out of the warehouse. “It’s called conflict resolution.”
Everyone followed her.
“Yeah, so is my Beretta.” Reece looped his thumbs in his pants pockets.
“Nonviolent conflict resolution,” she amended. “That is the purpose of Rider SI.”
Reece snorted. “So says the woman who can launch a Hellfire with a phone call.”
Maxine pursed her lips.
As they climbed into the car, Jenna asked, “What’s a Hellfire?”
“I’ll fill you in,” Ryan said, kissing her lightly on the cheek.