No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book Page 12

  “Please. I need to find her. Let me do this with you, and then I’ll never bother you again.”

  And there it was…

  Greyson felt used.

  A means to an end.

  It was more than enough to put his hotly-simmering temper on overboil.

  Greyson lost it.

  He snapped.

  “You don’t get it, do you?” he asked, heading toward the man. “Is it so easy to walk away from people who genuinely love you? Because you have no problem telling us that you’re good to leave!”

  Heath moved closer to his boss in case this went bad.

  Greyson continued, “You can’t seem to get it through that thick Russian skull of yours. You’re the one who knows what being bailed on is like, and you hate it, but here you are, doing it over and over again.”

  Dimitri took it.

  He deserved it.

  “You betrayed us for your brother’s address, and by a small miracle, we didn’t get screwed by that. Fate took out Babylon. Then, you were going to leave with Marissa, leaving us behind.”

  Dimitri listened.

  The man was right.

  He’d made mistakes.

  “Then on top of that, when Natasha was killed, you took matters into your own hands and froze us out. That is not how this is supposed to work,” he said, pointing at himself and then Dimitri. “You say you want a family, but you don’t offer it back!”

  He said nothing.

  He couldn’t argue.

  Greyson was correct.

  He didn’t know how to be a family—other than with Kat and Nat. Well, and now with his kids. He knew how to be a dad, not a brother. It was hard for him to understand it.

  “You’re either my best friend, or you’re not. You’re either my brother, or you’re not. Get on the ride, Dimitri, and stay on or get the fuck off and out of my life.”

  “Is that what you want?” he asked.

  He wanted to shake him.

  Greyson wanted to put his hands on the man and knock some sense into that thick skull.

  Only, he couldn’t.

  “Jesus. Let’s go, Heath,” he stated. His face hurt, his heart ached, and he couldn’t do this.

  Not now.

  “I mean it. Is that what you want?” Dimitri asked. “Is that the vow I have to take? My life is not like yours, Greyson. My choices are hard to begin with, but when I have to protect people I didn’t want in my life…”

  Yeah, that stung.

  It was also one-step past the line, and it broke Greyson’s control into poison-tipped shards.

  He lost it.

  Greyson moved so fast, Dimitri didn’t see it coming. He swung out and punched him in the face.

  He didn’t pull it.

  At all.

  He was so angry, and he knew it was wrong, but by God, he needed the man to shut the hell up.

  Dimitri hit the ground, landing on his bag.

  “I get it. You don’t want me in your life. I let you beat on me today. I let you tell me that you never wanted me in your life. I’m done. I’m so done, Dimitri.”

  From the ground, he watched Greyson head back toward the vehicle. He was losing him.

  He tried honesty.

  “You’re my only friend,” Dimitri said. “I’ve never had one before you. Please don’t give up on me. Kick the hell out of me, but please don’t give up. If I lose you, then I have nothing. You’re my brother.”

  Greyson stopped.

  Dimitri spit out the blood from his mouth onto the concrete beside him.

  “I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you. I can’t do this without you. I didn’t want you in my life because then I’d know what I lost when you leave me behind. Everyone I love leaves me. Please, moy brat,” he said, calling him his brother. “Please.”

  Dimitri knew he had very little excuse.

  He got on his knees.

  “Please. Don’t leave me behind.”

  When Greyson turned around, the sight stole his breath. Dimitri had tears in his eyes and they were slipping past his ebony lashes. The man was broken. He could tell from the look on his face. It was one of loss.

  Again.

  His mother had bailed.

  Marissa Pierce had left him.

  Natasha was killed.

  Poppy ran.

  At that moment, Greyson did what Emma normally would tell him to do. She’d tell him to love the man with all he had, and he was going to do just that.

  When in doubt, give love and compassion. As a Fed, he’d used that a lot to build bridges, and they’d built a family with it. Clearly, Dimitri was struggling.

  He headed toward him, and the man braced for the assault. It said everything.

  Instead, Greyson pulled him to his feet. When Dimitri didn’t move, he wrapped his arms around him and held his friend and brother.

  He could feel Dimitri relax into the embrace and his arms went around him.

  He shook.

  “I won’t leave you. I promise. I love you, Dimitri. I see it now. I see why you lashed out. I’ve got you.”

  He held him.

  As Dimitri leaned on him, Greyson simply let him use what strength he had left. He dug deep, burying his own pain since it was clearly less than what Dimitri was struggling with in all of this. He’d carry him.

  Despite being empty, he’d carry him.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you, Grey, and I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you. I can’t even tell you how horrible I feel. God! Please forgive me.”

  He already had.

  Greyson was good.

  Sometimes, you had to let it go for someone else.

  This was one of those times.

  When you loved someone, you put your own pain aside. It was clear he was struggling, and his apology was more than genuine. It was all he needed.

  For a few moments, he held him. When Dimitri was calmer, and the storm had passed, he set him free to stare into his aqua eyes.

  He needed to know.

  “When we find her, what do you want to do?”

  “Shake some sense into her?” he asked. “Is that one of my options?”

  It broke the ice.

  He laughed.

  “No.”

  “Drag her back and make her stay until she realizes that she can’t run?”

  “That you can do.”

  Well, there was his answer.

  “I need her to see that she can’t run, just like you made me see, and Emma made me see. I think Poppy has to see that sometimes, that’s not the option. I need to know why she did it.”

  He understood.

  “Please don’t leave Las Vegas,” he said. Dimitri would never forgive himself. “If you do, I’m coming. I promise that I’ll never run again, but I need you to do the same.”

  He understood.

  Greyson never broke his word.

  Ever.

  “I promise I won’t leave you behind. I’ll stay for you if that’s what you need.”

  “I do.”

  Then it was settled.

  The man behind them took that as his cue.

  Heath popped the trunk.

  “If you two pussies are done sharing your emotions, can we load his things and get going? The clock is ticking, and at eight tonight, this carriage will turn back into a pumpkin. As in a missing pumpkin that the cops will put a BOLO on and then we are three days past screwed into jail-bound.”

  They got it.

  They had to get moving.

  “Both of you need to get into the back. I’ll get less attention if they don’t see you two in this beater as we leave. Time to cuddle,” he teased.

  Greyson laughed.

  “Life is always interesting with this family,” he admitted, feeling better. His heart was healing. He didn’t lose his best friend after all.

  Now, they had to find Poppy.

  “So, get low.”

  They climbed in and got down as much as two big men possibly could. They weren’t
exactly small, and this wasn’t exactly a luxury vehicle made for long legs and bulky body armor-wearing ex-soldiers.

  If the media got wind of this, he’d be the gay Croft in the tabloids.

  “Is your junk against my leg?” Greyson asked.

  “Yes, so be careful. I like my balls where they are,” Dimitri stated back.

  Heath leaned over the seat and snapped a picture.

  “Jesus!”

  “It’s for Mrs. C. She gets the giggles over things like this, and if you ever fire me, I have to have something for my retirement.”

  Neither man believed the latter part.

  The former?

  Hell, yes.

  “Hold on, cuddle buddies.”

  “Shut up, Heath.”

  The man laughed. He was just glad that the family was better. He hated tension and drama.

  As Heath drove them out, past the few media stragglers and onto the main drag of Vegas, he kept looking back for the first couple of miles.

  Just in case.

  After ten minutes, he knew he was good to go.

  “We’re good, Mr. C. You can get up.”

  They did, and Dimitri crawled into the front seat to ride shotgun. They might not be in any danger, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  He was going to hold it together no matter what happened with Poppy. If he didn’t, he’d lose his family too. As someone who did security for a living, this was going to be about focusing on the job.

  So, he forced himself into that state of mind.

  It was time to work.

  “So, tell me about her location so I can get the lay of the land and help.”

  They did.

  The entire time, he listened to it, building a plan in his mind. When they finished, he was ready to go. This would take his mind off of how angry he was at her for running.

  “Okay, we extricate her, get her back, and then handle the other case.”

  Greyson stared at him.

  “Uh, I think I can plan an operation. I was in good shape before I punched you in the face.”

  He laughed.

  “You’ve gotten soft. You hit like a girl.”

  Greyson sputtered.

  Dimitri didn’t let him speak.

  “Besides, if we look at the main fact, it’s really my job to plan it. This is my thing. You know…security and retrieval.”

  Greyson laughed.

  Oh, well, he may have forgiven him, but he wasn’t taking it easy on him. It was time to ride ass.

  BIG-TIME.

  “Uh, newsflash, Mr. Gideon, but you relinquished control of your company and gave me your third of it. I do believe that technically makes me the one who gets to make the plan,” Greyson countered.

  He turned in his seat.

  “Seriously?”

  No, but he wasn’t telling him that. It was just good having his ‘brother’ back. He’d torment the shit out of him.

  Greyson pointed at his battered face.

  “You’re going to hold me to that?” he asked.

  “I should, simply for you being an idiot for the last three months.”

  Dimitri didn’t blame him.

  He had been an idiot.

  Only, he knew what he needed to do.

  “How do you get a woman to marry you?” he asked. “Is there a book at the library?”

  God knew he did that to learn how to raise kids.

  “Force her,” Heath stated without even batting an eye. He clearly didn’t think it was a bad idea.

  “That’s what I was thinking. I can pay a guy to officiate…,” he began.

  Greyson stared back and forth at both of them.

  Were they serious?

  Clearly, they were.

  “Are you insane? You are damn lucky Emma didn’t hear that jackassery. You don’t force them, and you also don’t grab a woman who has been hiding, drag her back, and talk weddings, Dimitri.”

  He measured his options.

  Yes, he was pissed.

  Yes, he was done playing around.

  Now it was time to see which emotion won out through all of this.

  “Are you sure about that?” Dimitri asked. “I mean, do you know that for sure? Emma seems to like a caveman. Maybe, once I can forgive Poppy, she can too.”

  Oh, Jesus take the wheel.

  The man was screwed.

  “Okay, that’s all kinds of wrong,” Greyson stated. “You can’t force a woman, who was just raped, to marry you.”

  Yeah, he supposed so.

  That did sound like a horrible idea. Only, he wanted to protect her. He’d fucked this up, but if he could get her to come back with him, he’d make sure she was safe.

  He had to do it.

  “If you say so,” Dimitri stated.

  “Who here is married?” Croft asked as if trying to prove a point. Instead of speaking, he did the one thing to prove it.

  He was the ONLY one who raised his hand WITH a wedding ring on it.

  “See? You don’t hold women at gunpoint at The Little White Chapel. Period.”

  That reminded Dimitri.

  As of late, he’d been a zombie. They had to be getting close to the date for Greyson and Emma. Or had they gone past it?

  He didn’t know.

  The last three months were a haze.

  “When are you getting married?” he asked. “Or have you already done it?” Sadly, that had been his state of mind.

  Greyson shrugged.

  “I don’t know. We pushed it back.”

  That broke his heart. He knew how much they’d been waiting for that day. He’d ruined it.

  “Because of me?” Dimitri asked.

  Greyson wasn’t going to lie. That wasn’t how he rolled in life, and he wasn’t going to protect someone from the truth in cases like this.

  “Yes, partly. You weren’t ready to be a best man. I didn’t think it was fair to me, or you, to push it. Then Emma wanted to move it.”

  “I’m ready now. Let’s have a wedding.”

  He laughed.

  “You’re ready until you see Poppy, and you lose it all over again. You’re a menace when it comes to things like relationship directions. You run, she runs, but you can’t do that. You have to stick.”

  “Uh, you were going to run, right?” Heath asked. “You knew he was willing to leave, but then so are you. I took this job to live here, and four months later, it’s gone. I just settled into the condo downstairs. I like it too.”

  Dimitri grinned.

  “He has a point.”

  “Yeah, at the top of his head,” he muttered. “I was going to leave because I was angry and hurt,” he stated.

  “Are you now?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re staying?” Dimitri asked, even though he’d just promised that.

  “Honestly, that’s up to Emma. I put it out there, and I can’t just take it back. You may have to join us for me to keep my promise.”

  “Why not?” Heath asked. “Or is this one of those things you can’t force a woman to do?” he teased.

  Greyson gave him the look.

  “Can you focus on driving?”

  “Can we get donuts…?”

  Dimitri legitimately laughed for the first time in twelve long weeks. The pressure was off of his chest. They’d found Poppy, and he could work with anything past that.

  He hoped.

  “Maybe you should eat better. After all, if you want to attract that sexy lady into your spiffy new condo love nest, she might not like donut flab.”

  He was horrified.

  “HEY! This is all muscle. Feel it. I work out every day, and it takes calories to keep this sexy machine going. There’s no flab on me!”

  They both laughed.

  Neither found him sexy and neither wanted to touch anything on his body. That was NOT happening.

  Heath wasn’t their type.

  “Pass.”

  “Come on!” he stated. “I’ll get the sexy Russian,” he said,
glancing over at Dimitri. “Not you. No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  Then he realized something.

  “Wait, who is the sexy, Russian lady?” Dimitri asked, not sure who he was talking about.

  “Nikita Petrova.”

  “Why are we talking about Heath and some double-crossing Russian spy?”

  “WHAT?” Greyson asked.

  Those words terrified him. Right now, that ‘double-crossing Russian spy’ was babysitting his wife.

  That worried Greyson.

  “Pardon? You know her?”

  He laughed.

  “Know her? She’s the KGB operative who was responsible for getting me tossed into that prison. She was the one Anastasia sold me out to for some money. She can’t be trusted. We can’t possibly be talking about the same woman.”

  Oh, holy shit.

  They were.

  THAT.

  WAS.

  NOT.

  GOOD.

  “Oh, shit,” they both said at the same time, as they stared at each other in the rearview mirror.

  What were the chances that there would be two Nikita Petrovas?

  Greyson crossed his fingers.

  His heart was racing in his chest, and already, he began thinking about all of the possible bad things that could go down. Despite Ethan’s reassurance, what if he didn’t know?

  They had let a fox into the henhouse.

  This couldn’t be good.

  “What?” Dimitri stated. “What’s going on?”

  “Right now, the one in the same is alone with Emma and Chris at the hotel before they do the client interview.”

  Dimitri hoped they were kidding.

  If not, they had a huge problem.

  Nikita was trouble.

  BIG, DEADLY TROUBLE.

  Chapter Three

  Jeffrey Raye’s

  Home

  Across Vegas

  The Rich Section Of

  Town

  B eing loaded was something he could really get accustomed to in his life. It was so much better than playing public servant any day of the week. Now he was rolling in it, and that was the way to make him happy.

  Thanks to his dead wife, he could sleep in, buy what he wanted, and end the people who bothered him.

  How?

  Well, yes, she had only been worth a million— tax-free, but the money he’d funneled away…yeah, that was a lot more. Now that everyone knew he’d inherited his money, some of it, he could flaunt his wealth and not be questioned about it. They would assume he was living off of her life insurance policy—not his ill-gotten gains.