Secrets of Summer - THE SPECTER SERIES [book four]

Chapter TWENTY NINE

Kirby Carter

Bratva!?... THE Bratva.. As in.. The Russian Mafia!?..

The idea that you might actually work for the mob is terrifying, even if it is just a cover story..

Since you moved to the city, every time you turn on the news you see evidence of the gang war that wages between the Russian Brotherhood and the Mexican Cartel.. They fight over everything from territory to drugs and arms and from some recent whispers you've heard, even slavery.. The very idea of such an association is nauseating..

The exact type of criminal organisation you have spent your life trying to escape..

The floor drops out from beneath you and you have to lean against Hunter momentarily for support.. The viking must be lying.. Right?.. Bluffing.. He's just making up a cover story..

Thats why he told you to play along.. Right?!..

Dabry pales slightly, eyeing the tattoos that cover The Vikings arms, the backs of his hands, and those ones that creep up his neck.. Darby might have powerful connections back in Ireland.. But here, he is a small fish in a much larger pond..

An ocean really..

He is smart enough to see this for himself.. "S-she never mentioned that.."

Hunter laughs, but the sound is hollow and cold.. Not at all as you know him..

No, this man is somebody else.. He is dark.. Dangerous..

And Darby can sense it..

"I dont give a fuck what she mentioned, man.. I'm here to talk business.."

You look between the two men, breath frozen in your chest..

"I have no business with the Bratva.." Declans eyes darken angrily as he aims them at you.. As if you've committed some great betrayal..

And you have.. Just not in the way he thinks..

The way his scrutinous gaze bores into is agony, you have to avert your eyes because of the nervous knots in your stomach... Trying to play it off as disinterest, you shrug slightly and attempt to plaster a smug grin on your face..

Like you actually have the backing of the Bratva..

Fake it till you make it, as they say..

"So, you weren't blackmailing Kirby here?.. You know, the brotherhood takes it very seriously when someone fucks with our employees.. Lucky for you, the old boys don't know about this.. Not yet anyway.." Hunter leans casually against the SUV, the enormous muscles of his biceps strain against the tight sleeves of his fitted black jacket ..

Darbys teeth clench and he begins to grind them back and forth with frustration.. "What the fuck do you want, then?.."

He waves the schematics in Darby's face before handing them back to you.. You quickly tuck them back into your bag.. "Well, since the Bratva owns your bomb-maker, and it was awful shitty of you to cut us out of the deal here.. You're going to buy through me.. Everything you need for this thing.. And you'll pay top dollar for it too.."

Hunter's arm winds around your waist as he begins to pull you away, back towards the car.. "Consider the Bratva, your new supplier.."

Having an internal panic attack at the square off the viking just initiated, you rush around to the passenger side of the car, sliding into the seat as quickly as she can.. Ready to get the hell out of there.. But you can still hear the vikings muffled voice through the glass of the car window as he makes one last threat to Declan.. "Oh, yeah I almost forgot.. If anything happens to Lucky O'Cléirigh.. Well.. You know.. I'll kill ya.."