his chin toward the Kerrs. “—have you made up your mind? Are these the people who got on Turov’s yacht? Or not? Speak.”
Nick saw sweat break out on the blond’s forehead. Yeah, rock and a hard place. You don’t want to give this guy the wrong information. It was hard not to look at Brian or Lori, to stand at ease, confident everything would be all right. Say no, say no, say no. His pulse pounded in his ears and he used every ounce of his hard-won undercover skills to take slow, easy breaths as if it didn’t matter.
The blond bit his lip, then shook his head. “That one Damon guy, that’s him for sure. The other two? I don’t think so. They’re similar, yeah. Good likeness. But those aren’t the two I saw on board the Pretty Lady.”
“You’re certain?”
The blond’s voice shook as he said, “Pretty certain. Like, ninety percent?”
“You need more time? You, Brian, say something.”
Nick looked at Brian now, when it’d be natural to do so. Brian seemed okay, maybe tired, maybe frustrated, the bruises darkening his nose and under each eye making him look older. Knowing how scared he must be underneath— seeing how little it showed— pride and fear battled inside Nick. Jesus, I want this to be fucking over, but look how he’s come into his own strength. Fucking look at him!
“What do you want me to say?” Brian’s voice was lower than usual, perfectly steady, his stance confident. “I know nothing about any marina in Florida. I’ve never been on a yacht, and given that they shot Damon on one, I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”
The blond looked him up and down. “It’s not him. The other guy was… different. No, I’m sure these aren’t the same two.”
Boris sat back. “Very good. Thank you, Milward. You can go now.”
The blond got up and hurried out, not running, but Nick was sure he would once he hit the street. A guard shut the door behind him. Nick fought not to sway in relief, or grin, or look at Brian. This isn’t over yet.
“Now this new mess.” Boris ran his gaze from Nick to the two guards. “Anyone care to explain?” The rise of his tone was sharp with warning.
When neither guard spoke up, Nick said, “I was walking outside and spotted a guy with a ski mask on the roof of the building next door. That’s never a good thing. I headed for the roof and found him aiming a grenade launcher this way. I tackled him, the launcher went over the edge, and your boys showed up to help.”
“A grenade launcher. How interesting.” Boris turned to the first guard. “You want to explain to me how someone got that close with that weapon? Do you?”
“No, sir.”
“Find out!” Boris glared back at Nick. “So you’re just a stranger out for a stroll?”
“No, sir.” Avoid the obvious lies. “Brian’s my boyfriend. I followed him down here with his brother. Motherfucking Damon Kerr— excuse my French— has gotten Brian into his schemes before. Not anymore. Not on my watch. I was trying to figure out where he’d gone and boom, there’s a guy with a fucking grenade launcher? First thing I think is Damon’s in trouble again, and Brian’s with him. So I took the guy out.”
“Did he do that?” Boris looked at his men.
“Yeah, I think so. Launcher went over the side, this guy had the other pinned, and the other guy was dressed for wetwork, mask, gloves.”
“Do we know the scumbag?”
“Not yet. We will, sir.”
Boris growled, “Bet your fucking ass we will.” He looked over at Damon. “How many people did you tell about this meeting?”
“None, sir. I swear!” Damon managed to sound younger and less self-controlled than normal. “I didn’t even tell Nick, just that I needed Brian, not where. I didn’t.”
Nick repeated, “I followed them.”
Boris held his gaze for a moment, then sighed. “Kerr, you are one major fuck-up.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“If Turov had been mine, I’d bury all of you, on principle. You’re lucky he was just one more stiff working the business.”
“Yes, sir.”
A guard said, “How do you know they’re telling the truth?”
“I don’t.” Boris sat back, folding his hands across his stomach. “But if that grenade had landed in here, Kerr and his brother and sister would have as many holes in their hides as the rest of us. He’s no genius, but I don’t think he’s that stupid.”
“No, sir,” the