Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I scrutinize the map, trying to process that. Part of me wants to feel nothing for the victims because they're just like Nikolai and his men. I know what men like that are capable of, but the other part of me hurts for the victims anyway. So many of them are so young. They're sucked in before they're even old enough to understand exactly what they're signing up to do. How many of those kids would have chosen something different if their paths hadn't crossed with Nikolai or someone like him?
"These are all el Demonio victims?" I ask.
"Most of them," Agent Bethel says.
"Can I move closer to the map?"
"Of course." He seems surprised by the request.
I stand up and walk toward the map, frowning. Up close, I notice that there are lines drawn on the map in pencil, with the names of gangs and cartels noted. Some of them have been erased and redrawn often enough that the paper has started to tear. I focus on two pins just on the other side of Nikolai’s territory.
"These aren't el Demonio victims," I murmur after a moment, pointing at the pins.
"No?" Agent Bethel steps up beside me, making me jump. I didn't even realize he'd moved. "Sorry," he murmurs, holding his hands up as if to show he's unarmed. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay." I steel myself against the pounding urge to put more distance between us and point at the map instead. "I don't think el Demonio killed these two. I think the Bratva did."
"What makes you think so?"
I hesitate for a brief second. "I heard them talking about it at the bar one night. Mikhail Marozava caught them dealing too close to Nikolai’s territory." They didn't realize I was close enough to overhear what they were saying. As soon as Ivan realized I was there, he slammed a hand down on the table, silencing everyone. He was extra vicious the next day, going out of his way to make my life miserable.
"I'll have someone look into it," Agent Bethel says and then eyes me for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. "I haven't cleared this with Octavio yet, but if you're willing to look at it, I have a book of pictures of suspected Bratva members we haven't been able to identify. Maybe you could help fill in some blanks for us."
"I'll look at it."
"You don't have to do it right now, sweetheart. I'll send it with you and Octavio," Agent Bethel says.
I look at the map again, thinking. Octavio seems reluctant to ask me very much about Nikolai, but I promised to help him. I don't know if I can give him the information he needs, but I've been with Nikolai long enough to know who they are and what they're about. What I know might not give him what he's looking for, but if it helps him…well, I want to help him. More than I ever expected I would.
"I can make a list of Nikolai’s men, if you think it might help," I offer.
Agent Bethel smiles at me. "That would be a tremendous help."
"Okay."
"Knock, knock." I peek inside Octavio's office to find him ensconced at his desk, his dark head bent over a case file as he jots notes. He looks weary in a way I haven't seen before, like the weight of the world really does rest on his shoulders. I don't know what he had to go take care of today, but he's been quiet and distracted since he picked me up from Roman's a couple of hours ago. Whatever he had to do, I don't think he liked doing it.
He lifts his head, those sepia eyes falling on me. There's a furrow between his brows, but it clears when he sees me standing there. He tosses his pen down and leans back in his chair. "You don't have to knock, conejita. You're welcome in here anytime."
"I didn't want to bother you. I just came to ask if you have a notebook and a pencil I can have."
"You need paper?"
I nod, stepping into his office. His scent is all over the room. It immediately loosens knots in my shoulders that I hadn't even noticed were there. I still don't understand how someone can smell like safety and peace, but he does. It's far more erotic than it should be.
He rifles through a drawer for a minute and then materializes with a spiral notebook. He plucks a pen out of the cup on his desk and then holds it and the paper out to me. "What are you writing, little bunny?"
"Um…a list." I reach out to take the paper and pen from him, but he doesn't let them go.
"What kind of list?" he asks, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Agent Bethel said I could make a list of what I know about Nikolai’s men." I tug on the notebook, but he still doesn't let it go. "I'm supposed to be helping you," I remind him.