Page 11 of Captive

He placed a glass in front of me, pouring my usual brand of bourbon, eyeing me cautiously. “Okay, what’s going on?”

The man knew everyone in town. He kept his ear to the ground and if shit was going down, it was possible he knew about it. He also knew when I was agitated, often able to corral my anger when few others could. However, up until tonight, our heated discussions had never reached this level.

He slid the drink across the bar and leaned over, folding his arms.

I took another glance from side to side. The last thing I wanted was anyone else getting in my face. Not only wasn’t I in the mood for additional bullshit, my buddy didn’t deserve to have trouble in his bar.

“Have you heard about any visitors in town?”

Travis lifted a single eyebrow, eyeing the customers then lowering his voice. “I take it you don’t mean intellectual types.”

I merely gave him a hard look.

“A few boys came in here a couple nights ago. You know the type, rough around the edges. Funny thing is, they all had European accents.”

Immediately I bristled, my grip on the glass firm enough I feared I would shatter it. “What did they want?”

“They kept to themselves, other than ordering their drinks. However, I noticed they were searching the entrance, as if waiting for someone to walk through my door.”

“You need to watch your back.”

He opened his eyes wide, taking a deep breath. “What the hell is going on?”

“I think my past has come back to haunt me. Anyone associated with the Butcher is likely to face some issues.”

The Butcher.

It had been the nickname I’d been given the day I turned eighteen. It was the same day I’d sliced and diced an assholewho’d crossed the Federov family. Maxim had glowed from his admiration, something that had pissed off his only real son, the one with the birthright to his regime.

“Don’t worry about me, Nikolai. I can handle myself.” He motioned toward a cabinet where I knew he kept a firearm. Sadly, my friend underestimated how brutal and effective the Bratva were.

“What about you? What are you going to do?”

I drained half the glass before answering, “Not certain yet. I just wanted to warn you.”

“Duly noted. Happy to help you if I can.”

“And I appreciate that.” I noticed his gaze shifted toward the door. I immediately reached for my weapon, already prepared to face the return of the assholes.

“Whew. Now, that is something fine to look at.”

I turned my head, an instant growl slipping past my lips, my thoughts drifting to all things vile.

“It’s obvious you know her.”

As I stared at Chloe, the lurid visions flashing in my mind were difficult to push aside. “Yeah, I do.”

“Who is she?”

“Trouble.” The little girl had no idea who she was messing with, but it was painfully obvious that I would need to teach her a lesson.

If for no other reason than to save her life.

* * *

Thirty minutes earlier

Chloe