Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters Book 3)
Savage Hearts: Chapter 22

Lying naked in bed beside Nat, I’ve got a full belly, a full heart, and an empty set of balls.

My baby’s gonna be sore in the morning.

“You good?” I murmur, my lips moving against her hair.

Her laugh is soft and satisfied. Head resting on my chest, she snuggles closer to me, pressing the length of her nude body against mine. “You know I am. People could probably hear me screaming in Seattle.”

I tilt her head up and kiss her gently on the lips. In the dim light of the room, I see how soft her eyes are, how full of devotion, and am amazed all over again that I get to love her.

Men as bad as I am don’t deserve this kind of luck.

“Dinner was great.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Liked it? I had four servings of that lasagna. I almost licked the plate.”

She whispers, “But you licked me, instead.”

Thinking of how hard she came for me makes my dick stiffen. I growl, “You’re goddamn straight I did. And you were loud.”

Her laugh is so sweet, it makes my dick even harder. I roll her onto her back, press my chest against hers, and kiss her again, this time hungrily.

When we come up for air, she’s still laughing.

“Honey! Give me a minute to catch my breath, will you? I’ve already had three orgasms in the past hour!”

“Only three?” I say, outraged.

It makes her laugh harder.

She stops when the phone on the nightstand beside her side of the bed starts ringing.

“Woman,” I say sternly. “What did I tell you about keeping your cell next to the bed?”

“Something bossy that I ignored.”

“Turn it off.”

“Let me just check and see who it is real quick. It could be Sloane.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

She pushes at my chest. I don’t move. The phone keeps ringing.

“What if I make you a deal that this is the last time I’ll keep the phone in the bedroom?”

“We already made that deal. You conveniently forgot.”

“Oh. Right.” She gazes up at me, biting her lip, silently pleading with her big doe eyes.

“No, baby. Don’t give me that look.”

“Please?”

Ah, fuck.

She knows I can’t resist that sweet, soft tone, and those sweet, soft eyes. I don’t know why I ever bother trying.

I roll off her with a heavy sigh and lie on my back, staring at the ceiling.

“Thank you, honey.” She leans over and gives me a peck on the cheek before grabbing the phone and answering it.

“Hello?”

There’s a long silence as she listens. Then she blurts, “Oh, my god! No! Sloane, I’m so sorry!”

It’s Sloane. Of fucking course it is. And I can already tell that whatever it is she’s telling Nat is some giant clusterfuck I’ll have to get involved in.

I should’ve thrown that goddamn phone out the window when I had the chance.

Nat listens for a few moments longer, then says urgently, “Absolutely! Put him on right now! I’ll put Kage on, too.”

She rolls over, thrusts the phone at me, and demands, “You need to talk to Declan.”

I turn my head on the pillow and look at her. My voice flat, I say, “Natalie.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Kage! This is important! Sloane’s little sister was kidnapped by some Russian assassin named Malek, and she got shot in the process. We have to help replace her!”

That son of a bitch.

I sit up and grab the phone from her hand. Into it, I bark, “Start talking, asshole.”

“Fuck you, too, you worthless piece of shite. Did you have anything to do with this?”

“I don’t even know what this is.”

“No? You have lots of rogue players on your team? Because I was under the impression you were the big Bratva boss. And if you are, you should know exactly what the fuck is happening on your turf. Or have I overestimated your power?”

That last part is said with so much contempt, my vision goes red.

It’s his blood I’m seeing. And his dead body right in the middle of a big pool of it.

“Just get to the fucking point, Irish.”

“Malek Antonov. You familiar with the name?”

“Yes. He’s not under my jurisdiction.”

Declan shouts, “This whole bloody country is your bloody jurisdiction, you bloody twat!”

I close my eyes and breathe slowly through my nose. I count to ten. When I open my eyes, Natalie is pacing naked back and forth at the end of the bed, chewing on her thumbnail.

That she’s so worried is the only reason I don’t hang up.

Keeping my tone tightly controlled, I say, “He’s out of Moscow. You know as well as I do that the old country has their own chain of command.”

“Not with us, it doesn’t.”

“We were around long before the Mob was even conceived. Russia is more than two hundred times bigger than Ireland. Things are more complicated.”

“Bollocks.”

“Okay. Good talk. Fuck off into the sea, Irish.” Glowering, I hold the phone out to Nat. “Take this away from me before I break it.”

She glowers right back at me, squaring off to fold her arms over her chest. “Finish the conversation, Kazimir.”

Fuck. She’s calling me by my real name.

The only time she ever calls me by my real name is if I’m in trouble with her.

Seething, I put the phone back to my ear. “What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me where I can replace him.”

“No idea.”

“You’re a bloody liar.”

“Yes. But not about this.”

A blistering Gaelic oath comes over the line. It makes me happy.

Hiding my smile because Nat is watching me, I say, “Perhaps if you hadn’t gone on that killing spree and murdered his brother, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Just a thought.”

“I didn’t know he was his brother! They lived in different countries! And do you know how many of you bloody Russians have the same last name?”

“Some free advice? Next time you want to kill someone in the Bratva, don’t.”

He roars a filthy string of curses so long and scathing, I have to hold the phone away from my ear so I don’t go deaf.

When silence finally falls, I put the phone back to my ear. “Let me be clear. I don’t know where he is. I don’t have any control over him. I didn’t give him permission to touch Sloane’s sister.”

A brief silence follows. “But you knew he was here. You spoke to him. I can tell by your voice.”

So maybe this asshole is smarter than I give him credit for.

Maybe.

“I had nothing to do with this kidnapping. I give you my word on that.”

He scoffs. “Your bloody word.”

I lower my voice. “Yes. The same way I give you my word I haven’t told any of your Irish Mob friends or the other families who and what you really are. Or who you’re working with. Because if I had, we both know what would’ve already happened.”

In his pause, I sense the wheels turning a million miles per hour inside his head. But he remains silent.

“Thank you for not insulting my intelligence with a denial.”

“You’re welcome. And I’ll thank you not to insult my intelligence with a denial, too.”

“Like it or not, I’m telling you the truth.”

“I’m not talking about Malek now.”

Christ, he’s exasperating. He talks in fucking circles. “Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“Your involvement with Maxim Mogdonovich’s death.”

He says it with such utter conviction, I know he’s got intel that he shouldn’t have. He’s not guessing.

He knows.

Fuck.

When I don’t speak for a moment, purely from surprise, Declan says, “You remember Max, aye? Your old boss? Died in a prison riot, conveniently elevating your ruthless arse to the number one spot? Funny how that happened. I wonder what your Bratva boys would have to say if they found out you arranged the whole thing?”

“You’re an ignorant slug.”

“And you’re a can of piss. My point is that we both know things about the other that we shouldn’t. Let’s focus on the important issue here. Tell me where I can replace this bastard Malek. Where does he live? How does he travel?”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know.”

“You do realize you still owe me for getting your FBI file erased?”

“Incorrect. I let Sloane stay with us while you were out taking care of your business. Your dangerous business, that’s now blowing back in your face. I didn’t have to do that.”

His voice rises. “Listen to me, you—”

“I gave your woman shelter. My debt is paid. The end.”

There follows a silence so long, I think he might have hung up. Then he says, “If you help me, I’ll grant you a favor. One favor. Anything you ask. No conditions.”

“Okay. Shoot yourself in the head.”

“Anything other than that, you bloody great wanker.”

When I don’t reply, he prompts, “You know what I’m offering is valuable. All you have to do is give me something to go on. Give me somewhere to look. Give me fucking anything that will help us replace her, and I’ll owe you a marker. No questions asked.”

I consider it.

A dozen different extremely useful things I could ask him for run through my head. Though I hate to admit it, Declan O’Donnell is a powerful man.

You never know when having a man like that in your debt will come in handy.

And I did specifically tell Malek not to hurt any women while he was getting his revenge. I was very clear on that. Now, a girl has been shot in the process of a kidnapping that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not just any girl.

One that Natalie cares about. One she wants me to help replace.

Decision made.

“All right, Irish. You’ve got yourself a deal. Let me make a few calls. I’ll get back to you when I have something.”

I hang up before I have to hear his annoying accent again.

Then, with Nat watching nervously, I start dialing.