Brawn: Lethal Darkness MC by Leah Wilde Page B

continued. “I like the status quo. I don’t want to see it changing anytime soon.”
     
    Sergei blinked and waited for me to go on.
     
    “The real straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak, was this theft. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it. For some reason, it was kept very quiet.”
     
    His eyebrows shot up. I had his attention, but this was the tricky part, the one most liable to get us in a hot, heaping load of trouble if we triggered the wrong reaction. “Do tell,” he said.
     
    “Someone—no one knows who—stole an awful lot of money from the Knives of Fury.”
     
    “Tristan Jenison’s crew.”
     
    “Those’re the guys.”
     
    “Not the most, eh, friendly of men is Tristan?”
     
    “He is the farthest thing from it. Devil spawn, if you ask me, but you didn’t, so I won’t say that.”
     
    Sergei didn’t laugh this time. “Micah, what does this have to do with you and me?”
     
    I steeled my gaze. “Given the unpleasant history between Tristan and myself, we’ve got a suspicion that he thinks we’re the ones responsible for robbing him blind. That, combined with all the other troubling things going on in every damn corner of this city, got us to thinking that we could do with an ally right about now. Someone to watch our back while we watch theirs. Call it a defense pact, if you’d like.”
     
    Sergei eyed me for a long few seconds, then went back to carving off the ends of his fingernails. I had no choice other than to sit and wait. He was the kind of man to take his time before speaking. And when he said things, he said them once only. Every word was final.
     
    Finally, he set the knife down, steepled his fingers, and looked at me again. “I like you, Micah,” he said. “Hell, my wife likes you, too. When we have done business before, it has gone very well for both of us, and what is there not to like about making money?”
     
    My heart sank. I knew this couldn’t be headed in a good direction.
     
    He wagged a finger sadly in the air between us. “But I cannot say yes to this right now. Perhaps even you were the one to take Tristan’s money. I have no way of knowing, and I will not insult you by asking. What I do know is that there is much bad blood between Tristan’s club and your own. That was very bad business that took place those few years ago, very bad indeed. I do not like to be mixed up in such things when I have no skin of my own in the game, you know? I am very sorry, friend, but I cannot help you.”
     
    The teenager returned with a bottle of vodka and two glass tumblers in hand, looking like he’d just run up a dozen flights of stairs.
     
    “Here you are, Sergei,” he mumbled as he set the items down in front of his boss.
     
    “Ach!” Sergei said. He smacked the boy in the back of the head and the kid recoiled, then stood there shame-faced. “What good are you? Taking hours and hours just to find the goddamn drinks? Get the hell out of this room. I don’t want to look at you.” He turned to me and gave me an apologetic shrug of the shoulders. “My apologies, Micah. My son is often useless. You have no children of your own, no?”
     
    “No.”
     
    “Well, perhaps one day you will. You will see then how you love them so much and still want to slap them in their stupid heads every time you see them. Anyway, here, drink.” He poured a few fingers’ worth of vodka into the tumbler and slid it across the table to me. I reached out and brought it to my lips.
     
    The smell almost made me vomit. Tangy, brutal, cold, it was everything I felt personified in a drink. “To old friendships,” Sergei said solemnly, toasting me. I inclined my glass towards him and threw the drink back in one gulp. He smacked his lips and let out a satisfied, “Ahh.”
     
    “Thanks for your time, Sergei,” I said in a low voice.
     
    “For you, Micah? Always. Must you be off? Can I interest you in anything else? Drugs? Girls? Perhaps a girl. You look so pale,