Ivan 2 (Her Russian Protector #9) - Roxie Rivera Page 0,36
test on Friday.”
“Thanks. I will.” He moved down to the window to pay and then waited nearby for his name to be called. Thoughts of Kostya and Nikolai circled round in his head. Faced with the choice between pissing off Nikolai or getting help to keep Erin and Ruby safe, he chose the latter. Nikolai would forgive him. Eventually, he would understand why Ivan had done it.
He called the most recent number he had for the cleaner, not at all surprised when it redirected to a voicemail box. “It’s Vanya. Call me.”
“El Russo!” The cashier called out the nickname the sisters had given him and plunked his order down at the window.
He grabbed the paper bag and drink carrier and made his way back to his SUV. His phone started to buzz in his pocket, and he bit the paper bag to free his hand to open the door and then retrieve it. He dropped the bag onto his seat and answered. “Hello?”
“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to call me,” Kostya greeted with amusement in his raspy voice.
“I was told you’re on vacation or maybe retired.” He shifted the food and drinks into the passenger seat and climbed into the SUV.
“Fucking Nikolai,” Kostya growled. “He’s not my mother. He doesn’t get to decide what I do.”
“Does Holly?” Ivan dared to ask.
Kostya went silent. After a long moment, he admitted, “Yes.”
“Welcome to the club,” he grunted and punched the ignition button. “Listen, you know why I’m calling, yes?”
“Parking lot attack. Ex-con sister. Ex-boyfriend in money trouble. Lone Star Hitler,” he listed off all the problems in Ivan’s life. “Do you want me to handle it?”
Ivan frowned. “No, I don’t want you to handle anyone.”
“Fine.” Kostya sounded almost glum. “I suppose you want me to dig around and see what I find?”
“Yes.”
“I can put some of my spiders on Erin, if you like,” Kostya offered. “They’re very discreet but also very deadly if the situation calls for it.”
Erin would be angry once she realized she was being followed, but he couldn’t risk anything happening to her. “Discreet is good.”
“Do you want me to tap her phone and email?”
“No.” Keeping her safe was one thing. Invading her privacy was another.
“GPS on her phone and vehicle?”
“Yes, but she hasn’t chosen a replacement car yet.”
“Is she going to Alexei?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve got it covered.” Kostya seemed to be running through a checklist. “Does she have a favorite handbag? A pair sunglasses? Something she carries every day?”
“She has dozens of both and changes them all the time. You can’t track her that way.”
“Phone it is,” Kostya muttered. “What about the sister? You want the same on her?”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “Something happened inside the jail. I think it was something bad. Something very bad.”
“There are rumors,” Kostya admitted. “One of my spiders heard them a few months ago, but they weren’t able to find any proof.”
“Rumors of?”
“Sex trafficking.”
“Inside the jail?”
“Yes. It happens all the time. If you spend any time on the darker parts of the internet, you’ll find all kinds of shit filmed inside prisons. High paying clientele will order certain types of scenes or acts. It’s good money for the distributors and producers,” he explained with disgust in his voice.
“There was a voicemail on the night of that charity party,” Ivan said, unable to forget the horrible screams. “There was a woman. Latina. Not Mexican. She sounded Honduran, maybe.”
“You always did have an ear for accents,” Kostya remarked. “What was she saying in the voicemail?”
“She was screaming. She was being beaten.”
“A warning to Erin,” Kostya guessed. “Or to the sister,” he amended. “She may have seen something while she was doing her time.” He hesitated. “Or she’s on one of those tapes.”
Ivan clenched the wheel as rage overwhelmed him. If that were true, if Ruby had been abused in jail, Erin would never forgive herself for letting her sister go to jail to learn her lesson. “If Ruby was abused, you know I’ll have—"
“I know,” Kostya cut him off. “I know. If it comes to that, I don’t have a problem making it happen.”
That was the good thing about working with Kostya. He didn’t blink at the prospect of even the most illegal acts.
“I’m going to text you a number. Use it to contact me. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ended, and he dropped his phone into the cup holder. When he reached over to adjust the drink carrier to make sure it wouldn’t tip while he drove, he spotted Erin’s hot pink phone