They were the only two people in this country who knew the extent of the crimes Roman had committed. Of the evil he was truly capable of.
And they accepted him anyway.
For that and for the families they’d built and shared with him, he’d kill or die for either of them.
They exited the building, and Roman straightened from the car. He opened the back door for Sergei as they approached. “A good flight?”
“As good as commercial travel can be.” Sergei slid into the backseat. “I’ve grown accustomed to Trevor’s charters.”
Kir chuckled and opened the front passenger door as Roman rounded to the driver’s side. “I have a feeling we’ll be talking to our brothers in Dallas about a Louisiana expansion soon.”
It would certainly make things easier. With how often Evie and Cassie visited the Haven women, Trevor’s crew was making monthly flights in one direction or the other already. Roman snapped his seat belt in place and fired up the car.
“So,” Sergei said as Roman exited the loading zone and steered them toward the highway. “Tell us more about Cassie’s friend. Why are we involved?”
Roman glanced at Kir. “We’re involved because our brother’s bride was intent on helping her friend without realizing the danger. Either I intervened, or I risked her going alone.”
Another man with their background might have grumbled. Might have uttered a sexist comment on the lacking wisdom of females in general or vowed to make her see the light.
Kir smiled instead, a purely delighted grin that said he’d expect nothing less of his woman. “She is fearless when it comes to those she considers one of her own.”
“They are close?” Sergei asked.
Kir shrugged and studied the passing landscape outside his window. “Cassie would like that to be the case. She’s invited her to a few events with Evette, but Bonnie always refuses. Only agrees to meet her for coffee or very casual dinner when it’s just the two of them.”
“She’s ashamed.” Sharing his thoughts aloud only solidified his instinct. Yes, she’d been understandably agitated and afraid after her father’s disappearance. Had been shaken and nervous upon seeing Sergei’s home. But there’d been something else underneath it all. An emotion he hadn’t quite been able to identify.
Until he’d seen her sitting at the dinner table, her spine painfully straight and her face pinched with longing.
He knew that look.
Had felt the emotion that went with it many years ago. An aloneness and sense of endless inferiority that had beat upon his soul and soured him until the only thing left inside was blackness.
But then Sergei had found him.
He pushed the ugly memories of his past aside and focused on his brother in the rearview mirror. “Her father’s home is in disrepair. The neighborhood he lives in is dangerous and depressing. Her apartment is in Tremé off St. Ann, and she works two jobs with nothing to show for it.” He paused a moment, remembering all too well what it was like to be someone with nothing when those around him had everything. “Compared to the life Cassie lives now, her own would seem dismal.”
Sergei sighed and stared out the window next to him. “What lies on the surface is seldom what’s found underneath.”
His vor would know. Like Roman, he’d learned young how to steal food and anything he could sell to survive while his father drank his life away.
“Kir tells me her family leaves something to be desired,” Sergei said. “I don’t do favors or business with drunks and thieves. They offer nothing in return but lies and risk.”
“But Bonnie’s got no record,” Kir volleyed back. “Cassie says she steers as clear of them as she can and wants to make something of her life. If Cassie believes in her, then so do I.”
Roman kept his eyes trained on the road ahead, but the weight of Sergei’s stare behind him was impossible to dismiss.
“And you?” Sergei said. “What are your thoughts on the girl?”
That she had confidence and street smarts. That she had a keen mind just waiting to be put to good use. “She could use our help. If not to find her family, then to break free of her past.”
“An interesting observation for someone you’ve just met.”
It was. So much so that even saying the words out loud had startled him. But he couldn’t shake the way she’d looked up at him when he’d caught her. How she seemed to fit sitting at the table with Evette and Cassie, even with the haunting hunger on her face.
And then there was how she’d felt against him. How her breath had turned raspy and her fingers had tentatively splayed across his chest.
No. Those memories couldn’t be indulged. Not with him being who he was. As painful or repulsive as she appeared to view her own background, it was nothing short of a fairy tale compared to the things he’d done. “It took you mere minutes to decide to help me.”
A low chuckle sounded from the backseat. “A fair point, moy brat.” He paused only a moment. “You say you’ve located this so-called loan shark?”
Roman nodded. “Pauley Mitchell. He lives about a mile from Bonnie’s father.”
“Very well,” Sergei said. “Let’s pay Mr. Mitchell a visit.”
* * *
Located in the northwest corner of Desire just before Gentilly Terrace Parish took over, Pauley Mitchell’s home was a far cry nicer than Bonnie’s father’s. Not much bigger, perhaps, but up to date and well lit against the night to show its white paint and cheerful green trim. Two red chairs sat on either side of the modest picture window.
Roman parked the car and the three of them strode to the front door. Per usual, Sergei took point and knocked on the front door.
Inside, a masculine voice barked out “MaryAnn! The door!”
“You get it,” a woman said. Presumably MaryAnn. “I’m busy.”
“Woman, answer the damned door!”
Sergei hung his head and shook it.
“Sounds like a splendid couple,” Kir murmured.
The door jerked open and a dark-haired woman in her mid-to late forties swept each of them with an irritated scowl. The frown quickly shifted to something more akin to caution. She must have deemed Kir the least threatening of the group, because she aimed her question at him. “Can I help you?”
“You must be MaryAnn.” The way Kir said it, one would think he’d heard a million fond stories about her. He held out his hand. “My name is Kir Vasilek. My associates and I are here to talk business with Mr. Mitchell.”