Cervena (21 page)

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Authors: Louise Lyons

Tags: #gay romance

BOOK: Cervena
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Something else occurred to me then, and I didn’t know how I hadn’t thought of it sooner. “His men are watching me. So they must know I’ve been in contact with you.”

Vincenc smiled. “Of course. But they are also being watched. I have many more eyes than Kowalski. I’ll be in touch, Joel.” He waved at the cab waiting behind me, and I backed away. Vincenc turned and strode off along the street.

“Shit.” I climbed into the car and gave the driver my address. More waiting. Hours slipping by while Sasha was potentially hurt more; while he wondered if he would ever see me or his family again. Although his parents had driven him out, I knew he’d be thinking of his little sister at least.

I didn’t hear from Piotr Kowalski until the early evening, and then it was his messenger who called my cell phone. I recognized his voice immediately.

“We are waiting.”

“You won’t have to wait much longer. I will have money tomorrow. All of it and interest.”

“Really.” He sounded skeptical.

“I sold the night club,” I added. “The money will be in my bank tomorrow, probably around midday. I’ll make a transfer to your boss as soon as it’s in my account. Please don’t hurt Sasha.”

“I’ll have to speak to the boss. He’s not a patient man.”

“Tell him I’ll pay extra. Double the interest. Please just hold on a few more hours.”

I heard a click, and a moment later Kowalski came on the line. “Tomorrow? Is this definite?”

“Yes. I’ve sold my club. I told your employee this. I expect to receive the money by the middle of the day.”

“You have until two o’clock. If you have not settled your account by then, you will never see your bartender again.”

“You’ll have the money, I swear. Please, don’t hurt him anymore,” I begged. “Will you let me speak to him?”

“You’ve done enough speaking. No more until you do what you say.” He hung up and I slammed my phone onto the coffee table in frustration. When my landline phone rang, I jumped up and grabbed the receiver. This time it was the police.

I explained I was selling Červenà, my reasoning being that whatever happened, I’d had enough of Prague and wanted to go back to London to be with my family. If Sasha was returned to me safe and sound, I would take him with me. I realized telling them the club was already sold, and to a known criminal, wouldn’t be in my best interests or Vincenc’s while he was trying to help me, so I didn’t let them know the sale had been completed. They’d find out soon enough.

So far it seemed the police investigations hadn’t made any progress, which didn’t surprise me. Vincenc had told me that if Kowalski and his men didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t be, but lying to the police, at least by omission, made me feel like the bad guy. I said as little as I could and hung up with relief when the call ended.

I heard nothing more from anyone that evening, and I collapsed into bed around ten, convinced I wouldn’t sleep but too exhausted to stay up. I thought about my staff starting work in the club, and my heart ached. Vincenc was probably there, spending his first night overseeing things until he could appoint a manager.

Eventually, I slept. When I opened my eyes the gray light of dawn seeped into the room through the gap in the curtains, and I groped for the bedside clock to check the time. Almost seven. A few seconds passed during which I didn’t think about anything, or remember the situation I was in, and then my cell phone rang and vibrated on the coffee table where I’d left it, and everything came flooding back. I hurled myself out of bed and rushed to the living room to answer the call.

A voice I didn’t recognize instructed me to write down an address and get a cab to take me there. Scribbling the District 4 address onto a scrap of paper, I asked who was speaking.

“My name is not important.”

“Who asked you to call me?”

“Mr. Jankovic.”

“Oh!” Relieved, I loosened my grip on the phone. “Can you tell me what it’s about?”

“No. Hurry, please.” The line went dead and I cursed in irritation. If Vincenc had news, why didn’t he tell me on the phone? Why did he get one of his minions to call me? Why were these people so damn secretive?

I muttered and mumbled as I moved around the apartment, pulling on clothes and finding wallet and keys before I ventured outside. By the time I found a cab, Prague was a bustle of activity with people preparing for their day, and the journey to the address I’d been given took longer than I would have liked. I shuffled impatiently in the backseat until finally I was dropped off outside a large house with trees lining the driveway. Checking the number on my note against that on the gatepost, I walked hesitantly up the drive to the front door.

A large brass knocker adorned the dark wood and I lifted my hand toward it. But the door swung open before I made contact and I dropped my hand again. A young woman in a gray suit stared back at me.

“Mr. Jones?”

“Yes.”

“Come in, please.”

“Is this Mr. Jankovic’s house?” I asked as I stepped inside.

“One of them.” She closed the door and led me along a corridor. The musty smell indicated the house was either in need of a good clean or wasn’t in regular use. The carpet beneath my feet was expensive-looking, but faded. Patches on the walls showed the positions where pictures had once hung. “Upstairs, please. Last door on the right.”

I realized we’d reached the foot of a long staircase, and I glanced up, then back at my companion. “You’re not going with me? Is Mr. Jankovic here?”

“Please.” She merely gestured to the stairs again, then left me. My pulse quickened as I ascended slowly, wondering what I would find. I hated surprises, and my imagination wasn’t my best friend. Immersed in a world I’d only seen on the TV, I pictured myself opening the door at the end of the landing and finding Piotr Kowalski, perhaps with the back of his head blown out the same way Karel’s life had ended. Then the possibility that Sasha was in there hit me, and I bounded up the last few stairs and strode past three doors to the one at the end. Sucking in a breath, I pushed open the door without knocking.

“Sasha! Oh my God, Sasha.”

He lay motionless on one side of a large bed, uncovered except for his underwear. A middle-aged woman, whom I took to be a nurse despite her casual clothes, bent over him, carefully cleaning blood from his face and neck. Deep purple bruises marred the pale skin of his chest and sides, partly hidden under thick strips of white tape, and both his eyes were swollen shut. He whimpered as the nurse cleaned around his mouth, revealing a split lip and more bruising. I rushed to the side of the bed and dropped to my knees, carefully grasping his hand.

“Sasha, I’m here. It’s Joel. You’re safe now. I’m so sorry.”

His lips moved, but no sound came out. Then he groaned and a fresh trickle of blood leaked down his chin. The nurse wiped it away.

“How bad is it?” I asked her.

“Bruising, mainly. A couple of cracked ribs. A doctor has examined him. It looks bad, but he will be all right.”

“Is Mr. Jankovic here?”

“Downstairs. Come down when you’re ready.” She straightened up, unfolded a sheet, and laid it over Sasha’s body before slipping from the room.

“I’m so sorry, Sasha,” I repeated. “I’m so sorry.” Tears burned at the back of my eyes, and I blinked rapidly.

“Where…?” He licked his lips and winced.

“You’re in a house in District 4. Vincenc Jankovic’s house. No one’s going to hurt you again, I promise. As soon as you’re better, I’m taking you away from Prague.” I had no idea what to do in the meantime. He didn’t look fit to be moved.

“They said… they would… kill me. They said… they would send me back to you in unrecognizable little pieces.” The words were barely audible and his voice cracked at the end. He sobbed, face contorted, but his eyes were dry, too swollen even to leak tears. I gripped his hand tighter and gently stroked his hair, too afraid to hold him properly in case I caused him more pain.

“I’m so sorry. I should have done more… quicker.” My own voice gave up and tears tracked down my cheeks. I sniffed loudly and wiped my face on my sleeve.

“How did you know… where I was?”

“I didn’t. Vincenc’s men must have found you.”

“Why…?”

“He offered to help. The man who took you… who had Karel killed, is an enemy of Vincenc too. I sold the club to him.”

“No!” Sasha dug his nails into my hand. “Why? You love—”

“I love you. More than anything. Vincenc will be a good boss. He’s met the staff and they’ll be okay. You’re more important. I’m taking you away from here, Sasha. To England.” I wiped away another stray tear and cleared my throat. “We haven’t had the best start, baby. That first date was perfect and then everything with my mother and Karel got in the way. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone like this, and I was sure I’d messed it all up. Then when we started seeing each other properly it seemed perfect. But with everything else….” I stroked my fingers through his hair and down the side of his face, finding unbruised areas to touch. “We need to start again, away from all this. I’m going to find a new life for us. We’ll stay with my sister for a few days until I can find something. A place of our own to live and a new business; something we can do together. Would you like that? You do want to go with me?”

“Yes. I want to forget about this.” Sasha licked his lips again. “That night they took me, I had a surprise for you. Maybe when we get to England, you’ll get to find out what that is.”

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about that now.” I chuckled despite everything and Sasha’s lips twitched at one corner.

“I want to think about something good.”

“Well, you keep thinking that.” I leaned closer and brushed my lips against his forehead. “I should go and speak to Vincenc. Will you be all right for a few minutes?”

“Yes.”

Reluctantly, I left him and made my way back downstairs. The young woman who’d let me into the house found me in the hallway and directed me to a room to the rear of the building. When I walked into the large sitting room, Vincenc put down an iPad and gave me a brief smile.

“Joel.”

“I… thank you.” I shrugged helplessly. “How did you find him?”

“It wasn’t too difficult. My men knew where to look.”

“Kowalski?”

Vincenc’s lips thinned and twisted at one side. “You’ll be reading about him in the news eventually.”

“You… you had him… killed?” The implications of me leaving the country with Sasha and the thug being found dead swirled around my head, but much to my surprise, Vincenc laughed.

“Really, Joel, what do you take me for? He’ll be found, arrested, and sent away for murder. You don’t need to know the details. All you need to know is that your boy is safe. My private doctor has examined him. No serious injuries, just a few cracked ribs. He will heal, but you won’t be able to move him for a few days. You’re welcome to stay here, of course.”

“But… are you sure?”

“Of course. I’ll be leaving later today. We don’t use this house much. The nurse and one or two of my staff will stay to take care of your needs until you leave. You should probably pack up your apartment and sort out whatever else you need to deal with.”

“What am I going to tell the police?” I wondered.

“Try the truth. You sold the club to get the money to pay the man who threatened you. You couldn’t wait any longer for them to find him because you were scared your boy would be killed. You paid the money and you got your boy back. That’s it. They’ll be frustrated, but they’ll get over it when they catch Kowalski anyway. Now… I have things to do. I must find a manager for my new business.” Vincenc moved closer to me and offered his hand. I slid mine into it and we shook. “We won’t meet again, but you have my number. If you need anything before you leave, let me know.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.” Stunned, I hardly knew what to say.

“No need.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I have what I want. So do you.”

I watched as Vincenc walked out of the room. Muffled voices drifted back into the room, and a door opened and closed. When I heard an engine start outside the window, I guessed he was leaving. I hurried back to Sasha’s room to reassure him again that things would be all right. I hated to leave him again so soon and in such a terrible state, but there were things I had to do, too, and quickly. Mine and Sasha’s belongings had to be packed up; I had to speak to the police and speak to my property agent about the penthouse. Since I didn’t plan to come back, it could be rented out complete with all the furniture.

I was away from Sasha much longer than I wanted to be. I visited my property agent first and signed the papers required for them to rent out the penthouse. When it was done, I returned home and packed everything, somewhat surprised that my years in Prague had only accumulated enough items to fill three cases. Most of it consisted of clothing, books, DVDs, and music, with a few pictures and personal items, mainly gifts from my family.

When everything was packed, I took a last look around each room. The linens, crockery and cutlery were all being left behind, and I’d emptied the refrigerator and cupboards of perishables. No doubt a businessman like myself and the others in the building would soon move in and make use of all my things. The place was ready to be lived in again, once my agent had sent cleaners in.

I locked up and had a cab take me back to Vincenc’s house with my cases and the bag Sasha had been bringing to my place the night he was taken. The lady who looked like a secretary let me in again and gave me a key, and after another brief visit with Sasha, I took off again. The penthouse keys were delivered to the agent and after some hesitation, I made my way to Červenà and called Tomáš. He came out to meet me almost immediately, hair standing on end as if he’d just hauled himself out of bed. His sparkling eyes and flushed appearance indicated he hadn’t been alone.

“Anything to tell me?” I smiled despite my somber mood.

“I met someone.”

“A man?”

“No, I turned straight.” Tomáš rolled his eyes. “Of course a man. He’s been in the club a few times. You probably didn’t notice with all you’ve had going on lately, but I’ve danced for him every night he’s been in. Only him.”

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