Page 11 of Be My Vengeance

“Who are you?” Sasha’s accent wasn’t as thick as Ruslan’s.

“I’m Gideon Hendrix.” Sasha’s reaction was the same as Ruslan’s. “Yeah, so I’m sure you can piece together why you’re here. But before we get to that portion of the evening, mind telling me what you and your brother were doing at that house tonight?”

Sasha peeked at his brother, and then at his knee, and shook his head. “Whatever you do here will be nothing compared to what he’d do if either of us talked.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Gideon stepped away and came to where Toni, Danny, and I were standing. “They won’t crack easily.” He spoke softly. “Get what you can out of them and clean it up. I have people at that drug house; I will find out what happened there tonight one way or another.”

The three of us nodded, and he turned toward the brothers.

“Well, I will turn the two of you over to the capable hands of my men here. You really should have just talked.” With that, he sauntered out of the crate, leaving the brothers to us.

By the time Toni, Danny, and I walked out of that crate hours later, we had gotten some information—but how valuable it was, I wasn’t sure.

We called the cleaners to move the bodies to where the SUV was; it would then be lit on fire, their bodies inside. Toni said he’d contact Gideon and let him know how the night had gone and what info we’d gotten.

“You going home?” Danny asked as we walked to his truck.

“It’s like three in the morning. Where else would I go?”

“I live five minutes from here, and you’re a half an hour away. You can crash at my place if you want.”

Danny, along with everyone else, was worried about me, and I understood this. And before Mila, Danny and I used to stay at each other’s houses often. Usually to watch a game or a movie, shoot the shit. Once I met Mila, we didn’t hang out as much, but I tried to make time—he was my best friend, after all. Even though I wanted to be alone, I could see from the expression on Danny’s face that maybe he didn’t.

“Yeah, okay. I mean you’d have to take me back to my car anyway, which would take longer, so why not?” I got into his truck, not missing the smile he quickly wiped away as he hopped into the driver’s side.

The thing that not a lot of people knew about Danny, was that he was genuinely a sweet guy. I wouldn’t say soft, because he’d done some crazy things for Gideon. But when you looked at him, you’d think he lived in an apartment decorated in blacks and grays, minimal art—nothing fancy. You’d be so very wrong.

Danny’s house was a bungalow on the beach. He wasn’t one for glitz and glamour. Even more surprising, the moment you stepped into his house, the feeling of home surrounded you. Warm reds, browns, and yellows were the main color theme. He had pictures of the twins on the fridge, art that he’d found at tag sales or who the hell knew. But none of the paintings were from well-known artists.

The blankets that rested on the back of his couches had been crocheted by him and the pots his plants were in, he’d made. The Danny that everyone saw wasn’t who he was; it was his job. This, standing in his home surrounded by his things, this was Danny, and I always felt lucky I got to see this side of him.

“Drink?” He was already going to the kitchen.

“Just water, and then I’ll crash in the guest room.”

“ ’Kay.”

I took my water, bade Danny a good night, and headed to the bedroom where I’d stayed many times. As exhausted as I was, my mind wouldn’t let me sleep. I stared at the ceiling and replayed every moment I’d had with Mila. There were many and yet, not enough.

CHAPTER SIX

Danny

I jolted awake, scanning my bedroom, the hairs on the back of my head standing on end. Something had woken me up. I slid off the bed and went to the window. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, so it was still early. I’d maybe been asleep for a couple of hours.

At first, all I heard was the sound of the waves. I was about to return to bed when a whimper caught my attention. I left the bedroom and made my way down the hall toward the guest bedroom. The whimper grew louder, there was a thump, then, “No!”

I rushed into the bedroom, thinking Alex was in trouble, only to find him asleep and deep in a fight with his nightmares.

He was thrashing, his head arched and his neck strained while tears poured from his eyes. I moved to the side of the bed, my hands hovering above his sweat-soaked skin. There was a good chance that the second I touched him he’d punch me, but the pain etched on his face broke my heart.

“No! No!” Alex’s voice sounded raw as if he’d been screaming for hours.

Decision made, I gripped his shoulder and, as gently as possible, shook him.

“Alex, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

His sob was gut-wrenching. I tried shaking him again to no avail. He let out a shout so full of pain and anguish, I couldn’t listen to his suffering anymore. I pulled him up and engulfed him in my arms.