Bigger Predator

- DOMINIK -

Now that I've gotten Vanessa's assurance that she won't be coming back to Theo's Bar, I can focus on the old man whose murderous eyes are still fixed on her. Even when I make my way over to him, they only flick my way briefly before returning to their favorite subject behind the bar. 

A blaze of anger roars to life in my chest, and my hands curl into tight fists before I can clamp down on it. No emotion gets the best of me. Ever. I'm always in complete control. Otherwise, mistakes are made. 

But when I sidle up next to him and glimpse Vanessa behind the bar, the anger tries licking its way free. It's not something that usually happens, and to say it's irritating right now is an understatement. 

I shove the emotion back down and lean close to the old man so there's no mistake about who I'm speaking to. "You look like you've been around long enough to know the name of Matvey Volkov," I say, punctuating my uncle's name with the Russian accent I rarely use. 

Everyone knows that name, and complete with the accent, I know the fear it evokes. It's visceral. Even criminals who think they're as hard and tough as they come get that wild, trapped look when they think a Volkov has targeted them for some reason. 

This one—"Jimmy"—is no different. He tucks his head the minute I say it. 

"Am I right?" I ask patiently, and he nods once. "Good. Get up and walk out of the bar. I'll follow." 

Jimmy gets up obediently and walks straight for the door. Even the barflies here must have a sense about how bad this guy is, because one-by-one they part to let him through. Why Vanessa doesn't understand how dangerous he is beats me. 

Right before Jimmy is about to walk out the door, he looks back toward the bar, and I notice that Vanessa is visible from here now, too. Regardless of what she said about Jimmy, the look on her face now as she stares back at him is one I recognize. It's the terror and surprise when a mask slides off to reveal the monster that was hiding underneath all along. 

I shove the monster in question, and he finally walks out the door. But my gaze is drawn back to her. Maybe it's to make sure that terror leaves her eyes. I don't want to remember her that way. I don't ever want to remember anyone that way, but especially not the stubborn, rebellious mafia princess. 

The cocky smile that curves on my face just comes naturally. What can I say? And it does the trick, because the terror that was still swimming in Vanessa's eyes leaves, and she rolls them at me instead. I chuckle to myself. At least her fear is in the right place now. 

When Jimmy and I are both outside in the crisp night air with the bar's noise muffled behind us, he doesn't look at me. He stares at the ground like a coward. He can stare Vanessa down all night long, but he doesn't want to make eye contact with someone who spoke my uncle's name. 

Now I have to consider my options. Ivan is expecting me to show up at the club any minute. Vanessa will probably be safe if I scare this guy away from Theo's tonight and she never comes back to work. But I also suspect that ol' Jimmy here is a well-seasoned predator and most likely a killer, too. What kind of person would I be if I released him back into the wild only to hunt another victim? 

"Jimmy, right?" I ask, pulling my gloves on and glancing around the parking lot. He doesn't say anything, just keeps his head down. "We're going for a ride, Jimmy. Luckily, I have a private cabin that's not too far from here." 

I push him, and he splashes through the mud before walking past the motorcycles and beat-up cars. He shuffles his feet but doesn't protest or resist. 

"Do you have a private house like that? Somewhere not too far but far enough? Maybe out in the woods like mine where there's no one else around for miles? No one to hear the screams?"

"Yep," he grunts. It's so quiet, I almost think I imagined it. 

"Great," I say through clenched teeth, because that anger has unleashed itself again when the thought of him hurting Vanessa flickers through my mind. "Then you know exactly what's waiting for you."

When we get to my SUV with its blacked-out windows, I shove him up against the side and pat him down to look for weapons. In another life, maybe I could have been a cop like Vanessa thinks. 

I'm surprised when it seems that Jimmy doesn't have any weapons on him. But then I get to his right boot where there's a five inch blade tucked into a sheath. Despite the ragged, unkempt look of the man, his knife is bright and shiny and sharp. This is one thing he obviously cares about. 

"Hands behind your back," I tell him, pocketing the knife. 

Jimmy doesn't bother arguing or fighting. Maybe he's suspected this was going to be his fate all along: taken down by a bigger, stronger predator. Or maybe he has no emotions or instincts left except those that are devoted to the hunt and the kill. 

"You're just a shell, aren't you?" I mutter, zip-tying his hands and hoisting him up into the backseat. "How many people have you hurt, Jimmy? How many women?" 

It's a question I ask without expecting an answer, and he doesn't give one.

When I'm behind the steering wheel, I adjust the mirror so I can see him. This time, he stares back. If I hadn't already become immune to the pure evil that can exist in men's eyes, maybe his would scare me. They're black and empty with the smallest glimmer of hatred remaining like the light of a dying star. 

I put the car in gear and head toward the cabin that I've managed to keep a secret all these years. It belonged to my mother's family, and I happened upon the deed tucked in with my parents' things years after they were killed. It was like finding a piece of treasure—something completely separate from the Brotherhood. Something that hadn't been tainted by it. 

I'm not sure why I kept it a secret. Maybe I suspected I would need an escape one day. Or a place to hide things. Or maybe I wanted to keep something pure and simple for myself when the rest of my world is everything but.

Part of me doesn't even want to take Jimmy there. Despite what I said, I've never taken anyone to the cabin. I don't hurt people unless there's no other choice, and I don't need privacy in order to do it. Even taking someone there who deserves what's coming to them feels like a violation of the inherent sanctity the cabin holds. But I don't have time to deal with Jimmy right now, so there's not much of a choice. 

My phone buzzes with a follow up text from Ivan, and I curse inwardly. He should have just asked me to go to this stupid meeting if there was a chance he would need me. Now I have to come up with a lie about why I'm late. I hate lying. Every lie carries with it a chance of getting caught, and Ivan's trust is one I don't ever want to lose.