Sarka screamed.
I cried.
And then the world turned black.
If I were to survive this, I knew I’d never be the same again.
Chapter Thirty Two
Jax.
The last thing I wanted to do was get ready for a dinner with people I despised and who despised me, not that I had much of a choice. So, with great reluctance, I dragged myself to the shower and spent as long as I could underneath the fierce stream of hot water. I tried to enjoy my moment of quiet, but my mind was a mess, theories of the night ahead bombarding me, and fuck, I missed Ella. I refused to believe she was anything other than alive, there had been plenty of times she had disappeared since I arrived, and I clung to the hope that this is what was happening now. My Ella was locked away somewhere. I hoped that, wherever she was, she was able to remind herself of everything I had promised her; promises I intended to keep until my last goddamn breath.
As I stepped from the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist, I heard my phone ring. I hurried back into the room and my heart sunk when I saw my father’s name flashing across the screen; I don’t know why I felt so apprehensive, perhaps it was the anxiety of everything coming together.
“Yeah?”
My father was stressed. “Jax! Oh, thank Christ. It’s Carter.”
I froze. “What?”
“He’s okay, well, he’s alive. Look, I can’t explain everything right now, I don’t have much time, but we found her, son. Ella’s daughter. Her name’s Sarka.”
“Fuck,” I should have felt happy, but I was waiting for the blow.
“Marnie had been looking after her; she arrived back with the toddler when Carter was there…Jax, he killed Marnie. He shot her. She said Amy planned the whole thing and that the baby is Vlad’s. He took Sarka and fled, and I have no goddamn fucking clue where he’s gone.”
“What?” I couldn’t control the volume of my voice. “Well, find him! He can’t just have disappeared!”
My dad blew out air, sighing heavily. I imagined him running a hand through his graying hair. “He left through the door Marnie had come from; a door we had no fucking clue existed. We knew that they’d have access from somewhere, but that’s something Carter was going to check out. I’m doing what I can, Jax, but the plan’s gone to complete shit, and I’m worried about him. He’s never killed anybody, let alone a woman.” My dad choked on a sob, and my skin crawled, the image of Carter shooting Marnie, making me shudder.
“What the fuck do we do? I’m expected downstairs for a welcome back dinner.” I didn’t wait for him to reply. “The plan still stands. Whatever happens, tomorrow is the best opportunity we’re going to get for a while. He can’t have got far, not with a child in his arms. You get men out searching for him, and you and Graham do what Carter was supposed to.”
“Alright, my boy, keep in touch, okay? And I’ll update you as soon as I have any new information.”
We hung, and a whole new kind of dread embraced me.
Walking into the dining room, which was transformed in preparation for tomorrow’s party, several pairs of eyes met me. It seemed I was the last to arrive at my own special dinner.
Vladimir and Jozef were seated at the far end of the table, Benny to the left who looked uncharacteristically nervous, there was an empty chair next to him, and on the opposite side of the table were several other men I’d seen lurking around.
Quiet music played through unseen speakers, and I adjusted my tie and suit jacket as I took a seat; the atmosphere was toxic.
The table was covered with a blood-red cloth, plates were already out, and the men each had a drink. Benny poured me a glass and gave me a brief smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes as he passed me my drink.
“Jaxon,” Vlad beamed, fingers on each hand pressing together. “Thank you for joining us.” He raised his glass, and we all reciprocated the action. Each man took a polite sip, yet I knocked my drink back. My body was hyper-alert of the glances between the others, the tension in Benny’s thick shoulders, the silence aside from the clatter of glass.
“Good to be back, sir,” I said, sounding far more confident than I felt. Mine and Vlad’s last conversation played over in my mind as we waited for our host to continue.
The silence stretched for a beat or two longer, and then the doors that connected the dining room to the kitchen open, and Edith appeared, frail hands pushing a silver cart with several dishes of food, the steam rose from them, and the smell hit me as she got closer. Any other time I’d have enjoyed a decent meal and a decent drink, hell, I may have even enjoyed Benny’s company if the circumstances were different, but I felt sick. I was itching to find Ella, I was scared for my friend, and I already knew I wouldn’t be able to stomach a mouthful of this delicious food.
Did Vlad and Jozef know Marnie was dead?
I swallowed hard as a starter of soup was placed in front of me, unbuttoning the top button of my shirt.
“How are the arrangements for the party coming along, sir?” Benny asked, his voice jovial with an undercurrent of nerves. The silence was too much for him, as well, it seemed.
Vlad slurped on his soup, wiping his mouth with a black handkerchief. “Everything is ready, Benjamin. We’re going to have some important names here tomorrow, so I’m expecting things to go without a hitch.” He raised a questioning eyebrow to the team of men around him, which they all responded with yeses and nods of their hands.
I poured myself another drink.
“Jax, you’re quiet,” Vlad asked as Edith finished serving everyone’s starter, and then hurrying off to the kitchen again.
All eyes were on me, waiting for me to explain this observation. “I’m fine, sir, still in pain, is all.”
“Edith declared you fit for work - you’re not going to be a liability tomorrow, are you?”
I shook my head. “Of course not, sir. Will take more than a busted nose and broken ribs to keep me down.” I said, before I could reign back the belligerent tone in which the words were delivered.
Vladimir smirked, his spoon clanging as he continued to inhale the red soup.
“Watch your tone, Murdoch,” Jozef growled.
I held my hands up. “No harm meant, I assure you.”
Vladimir placed a hand on his right-hand man’s forearm to placate him. “Before Edith brings the next dish out, I’m afraid there is something we all need to discuss, there’s an elephant, as you American’s say, in the room and it’s about time we address it.”
Benny choked on the bread roll he was chewing on, and I frowned, patting him on the back.
Vladimir rose, pushing back from his chair and addressed us. “I won’t bore you with history too much, but I feel as though, with the younger generations coming in, you may not all be aware of the story, the infamous tale of the Chrobak’s and Murdoch’s.” He took a sip of his drink and clasped his hands together, he had the stage now, and we were all listening.
“It’s true what they say, New Mexico, Santa Fe in particular, was Murdoch territory when my great-great-grandfather arrived here, with little more than a dollar to his name, broken English, and a new wife. He didn’t flee from a war-torn, savage country where people were little more than domesticated animals, no, but he was a very tortured soul, and as soon as the opportunity arose for him to leave, he did. Murdoch’s welcomed him with open arms just months after he arrived, their business was collapsing, rival gangs were fighting back and growing stronger, and it was my grandfather who changed all of it. He brought fear and respect back to the streets, Archibald Murdoch’s grandfather was a weak man, I’m sorry, Jaxon, but it’s true, and before long, the Chrobak name was as well known as the Murdoch’s, maybe even more so. They were aliens to the people on the streets, fighting over weapons and cocaine and, eventually, women. People don’t like aliens; it means it’s something they don’t understand. The war taught my grandfather a great deal about strategic planning, leading groups of men, thinking logically, and little outside the box. When he passed away, the men of his family, the sons he had, knew they had to continue his legacy.”