Redemption (Cavan Gang #2) (6 page)

Sofia bit her lip.

Finally, Colm sighed. “Stop looking so worried, munch. You won’t have any problems with Rogan. She’s going to be the one in trouble.” He gave Miller a chiding look.

What was the big issue?

“Munch?” Miller asked instead.

Sofia gave Colm a mock scowl. “He thinks it’s a cute nickname.”

“Short for munchkin,” Colm explained. “She’s so tiny I had to shorten her nickname.”

“You’re an idiot,” Sofia told him. But her lips twitched.

“Sofia!” A man strode out from the back, scowling. Immediately, the warmth in Sofia’s expression faded. She closed in on herself.

Miller stared at the other man. A scar through his eyebrow gave him a menacing appearance. He crowded close to Sofia as he frowned at Colm.

“What do you want, Oleg?” she asked.

“You wanted out back.” He spoke with a Russian accent.

Sofia nodded. She turned to Miller. “If you still want the job after talking to Rogan, come see me.”

She left before Miller could repeat she didn’t need Rogan’s permission.

“Who was that man?” she asked Colm.

“Her boyfriend.”

Really? Was Sofia insane? Why the hell would she want that scary dude when it was obvious Colm had feelings for her?

“Interesting choice.”

“He’s an asshole wanker.”

Right.

“Is he the reason you haven’t asked her out.”

Colm glared at her.

Mind your own business, Miller.

“It’s complicated,” he replied finally.

Wasn’t it always?

***

“No.”

Miller let out an exasperated breath at Rogan, who sat in the armchair across from her.

“I wasn’t asking your permission, Rogan. I’m telling you. I’m going to work at Solnyshko.”

“Waitressing?”

“Yes, waitressing. What is wrong with waitressing?”

“Nothing. But you worked as a personal assistant. Don’t you want another job like that?”

“I tried to, remember? You wouldn’t give me one.”

“There are other jobs out there. Not that you even need to get a job.”

“I need a job because you can’t support me forever. You’ve already gone beyond the call of duty. I can’t even work out why.”

“Dylan is a good friend of mine.”

She raised her eyebrows. “So you’re helping me because of Dylan? You’d do this for any friend of a friend. How generous of you.”

“And I bear some guilt.”

“Rogan, it wasn’t your fault Iker held me against my will. Drugged me. He was an evil bastard who chose to do that to me. He holds the blame for what happened. And me.”

“You?”

“I was a naive fool and I paid the price. But you don’t owe me anything. I’m the one who owes you. More than I can ever repay.”

Rogan leaned forward, giving her a firm look. “You owe me nothing. Understand? If you’ve taken this job because you think you have to pay me back, then you can call and quit right now, got it?”

“I’m not doing it because I think I need to pay you back. I know you’d never take any money from me.”

He grunted. “Damn right.”

“But I need to do this for me. I need to move forward. Don’t you understand? Being here has been amazing. You gave me the sanctuary I needed. But I could get too used to this, and I can’t stay here forever. Eventually, I need to move out, make my own life again. This job is a start.”

He was silent for a long moment. “It’s too soon.”

She shook her head. “I’m going crazy sitting around doing nothing, Rogan. I’m not used to it. I need to do this.”

“Have you discussed this with your therapist?”

Her therapist had agreed a job could be good for her.

Rogan leaned back in his chair and stared across the room. “Do you know who Sofia is?”

“Ahh, the owner?”

Rogan’s gaze turned back to her. “She’s also the cousin of the leader of the Russian mob. Aleksandr Anisimov runs his business from the back of the restaurant.”

“Oh.” Shit. Was there anyone in this city not involved in criminal activity? “Are they your rivals? Colm took me there. Why would he do that if you don’t get along with the Russians? Colm said you go there as well. And Sofia seemed so nice.”

“Sofia is nice. She runs her business legitimately. And I have an agreement with Anisimov.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is I don’t want you there. It’s not safe.”

“There’s a lot of trouble there?”

He drummed his fingers against his thigh. “No.”

“Crime? Drugs?”

“No.”

“Then it sounds pretty safe to me.”

“I don’t like it.”

“So you don’t want to give me a job but you don’t want anyone else to either. I’m my own person and I’m going to work at Solnyshko.”

He sighed. She could be so stubborn.

“What happened at your therapy session today?” Crap, he’d meant to ease his way into this conversation.

But she’d thrown him with her news about her new job.

“Nothing,” she muttered, shutting down.

Rogan sighed, wishing he was better at this. Better at talking. Wished he had the right words to say. But he had no idea how to give her what she needed.

“Colm said you appeared haunted afterward.”

“Haunted? Colm is overdramatic.”

The big Scot was one of the calmest, most sensible men he knew.

“Fine, want to know what happened? I found out I’m broken, that’s what happened.”

Anger surged inside him. “Your therapist called you broken?”

“Not in so many words, but I am. I have trust issues. I have abandonment issues. Hell, my issues have issues. Apparently, I push people away before they can get too close. I leave them before they leave me. Don’t I sound wonderful?”

He thought she was wonderful. A dream come true.

“How do you push them away?” he asked.

“By putting up barriers. By not allowing people to get close. And any relationship I have entered, I’ve sabotaged. I’ve gone into it with the idea I’m going to be let down, that they’re going to leave me. So I throw up all these obstacles. It’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I think it’s going to fail, so I make sure it does. I’m one of those kids with a toy who doesn’t want anyone else to play with it, so I break it.”

“What’s the toy?” he asked, confused.

“Relationships, friendships, anything that could make me happy.”

“But you’ve been friends with Tilly for years.”

“We were friends before I became fucked up.”

He scowled. He really didn’t like her talking about herself in such a negative way. What was that therapist thinking?

“You’re friends with Natalya.”

She scowled. “Natalya wouldn’t leave me be. I had no choice.”

“And maybe you’re starting to figure out not everyone leaves. Not everyone will let you down.”

She stayed silent.

“Do you think I’m going to let you down, Miller? Do you think I’ll leave you?”

“How can you leave me when we’re not together? I live in your house, bit hard for you to leave me.” Her laugh sounded forced, fake.

“That’s not what I meant. Do you trust me?”

Large, brown eyes watched him carefully. “More than I have trusted anyone for a long time. That scares me. Because, if you let me down, it’s going to hurt so much more.”

He leaned forward. “I’ll try my hardest to never hurt you, Miller.”

“I know. I know there are good men out there. Tilly has one. Natalya has another. You’re a good man.”

“I don’t know about that.” He wasn’t good. Not at all.

“I do. You couldn’t have done what you have for me if you weren’t a good man.”

While he’d claimed to help her out of a sense of guilt and his friendship with Dylan, he knew the truth.

He’d offered her a place to stay because he hadn’t wanted to let her go.

His reasons were selfish.

“But I still need to move on. I’m taking the job.”

“I can’t leave you unprotected.”

“I get it. You don’t trust me—”

“No, it’s not that.” He ground his teeth. His protective instincts went into overdrive when it came to her. “If people find out you’re living with me then they could use you against me. That’s why I have insisted you be guarded whenever you leave the house.”

Because he was paranoid. Because he needed her to be safe.

Anyone could have seen her leave or enter his house. He’d known that offering her a place to stay could put her in danger, but he’d done it anyway. Because he was selfish. But he would do whatever he needed to keep her safe. No one would harm her.

If they did he would raze the city to the ground until he destroyed them.

“All right. I’ll accept some protection. For a while.”

“Then you can work there. But only if it doesn’t become too much or interfere with your recovery.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad.” With a grin, she stood and left the room.

Standing, he strode off toward the kitchen. He could hear laughter coming from inside. He walked inside. Immediately, the two men sitting at the counter stood.

“Boss,” Colm stated as Rogan moved over to him.

“What the hell were you thinking, taking Miller to Solnyshko?”

Colm flinched, but then he met Rogan’s gaze head on. Rogan didn’t like men who couldn’t think for themselves. Who would tell him what they thought he wanted to hear. He didn’t surround himself with yes men.

A decision he sometimes regretted.

“She had a tough session with her therapist. She needed a distraction.”

“She told you that?” If she had, she’d opened up more with Colm than him. A spurt of jealousy filled him, and he moved to the fridge to grab a beer before he was tempted to do something he would regret.

Like land his fist right in the middle of Colm’s face.

Bad idea. What the hell was wrong with him? He never let anything or anyone mess with his head like this, let alone a woman.

“No. But she looked fragile. Almost desperate. I wanted to cheer her up.”

“So you took her to Solnyshko?”

Colm shrugged. “Always cheers me up.”

Cillian snorted. “You mean Sofia cheers you up.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoy it because you’re going to be spending a lot of time there.” Rogan took a long swig of beer. “You’ll watch over Miller while she’s working there.”

She was precious to him. And he would protect her.

“You doing all right?”

Miller glanced up as she placed a pile of dirty dishes by the sink where Sofia stood.

“Yep, all good.”

Well, except for her aching feet, the tightness in her shoulders, and the pain in her lower back. She’d grown soft. She was out of shape and exhausted after only a week of work. Maybe her therapist had been right. She should have started off slow and built herself up.

“You’ve done well,” Sofia told her. “You’ve been a lifesaver, really. Plus, there’s all the food Colm has eaten over the last week. The restaurant’s earnings are looking very healthy this week.”

Miller winced. “I’m sorry about Colm being here all the time. Rogan is overprotective.”

Sofia smiled sympathetically. “You don’t need to explain to me about overprotective men.”

No, she supposed she Sofia understood better than anyone about overprotective men. Miller had met Sofia’s cousin Aleksandr a couple of times. The man was terrifying.

Sofia studied her closely. “You know, you look familiar, but I can’t figure out why.”

“I do? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“No, I guess you must have one of those faces. Things have grown very quiet out there, just a few stragglers left. Why don’t you head home?”

“I’ll put the rubbish out then I’ll head off.” She grabbed the overflowing trash bag, pressing it down and tying it at the top. Sofia’s staff were hit-and-miss when it came to work ethics. Most of the waitresses and bar staff were good workers. But the guys out the back were kind of slack. And rude. Miller especially didn’t like the way Oleg treated Sofia.

Like she was a piece of meat to order around.

He didn’t do it when Sofia’s cousin was here. But when Aleksandr left the restaurant, Oleg became a different man.

Miller swung the rubbish bag into the dumpster then turned, gasping as someone stepped out of the shadows.

Dima, the kitchen hand.

Great. Just my luck.

“Dima, you the scared the hell out of me. You could have cleared your throat or something. Excuse me.” She stepped around him. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to an abrupt stop.

“Not so fast, sweetheart.”

“Let me go.”
Don’t let him see your fear.
She yanked at her arm, wincing when he just tightened his grip. He was much stronger than he looked and Miller still wasn’t at full strength.

Not good. Really, really not good.

“No.” He crowded her back against the brick wall of the alleyway. The smell of garbage and sweat surrounded her as he pushed his body against hers. Miller struggled, trying to break free. But he grabbed her wrists in his hands with a laugh, pressing them against the rough brick.

Bile rose, making her gag as he tried to kiss her, his large, wet tongue sloppily licking her lips. Miller fought against his hold, desperate. Panic swelled, fear close to immobilizing her. His garlic breath smothered her. Eyes watering, breath coming in short, sharp pants, she bit down on his fleshy lip.

Ick, gross.

A loud squeal erupted from him and he drew his head back with a snarl.

Miller didn’t have time to think before something heavy smashed against the side of her head. Her breath left her in a rush as the world spun. She must have lost consciousness for a moment, because the next thing she was lying on the hard, damp ground with Dima on top of her, squashing her, tearing at her clothes, his breath coming in sharp, excited pants.

He grabbed her breast, squeezing hard.

“Let go of me, asshole.” She pushed at him, trying to dislodge him, but the blow to her head had left her weak and dizzy.

Shit.
God damn it.

He was too strong. She didn’t have a chance in hell of saving herself.

A loud yell filled the alleyway, almost like a jungle call then came the sound of something heavy hitting flesh. Dima fell against her, limp.

Miller lay there for a minute in disbelief. What the hell had just happened? Then panic filled her as he just lay against her.

She pushed at his heavy weight frantically. “Get off! Get him off!”

Was he dead? God, why wouldn’t someone get him off her? With a final last heave, she managed to roll him away. He fell onto his back. A patch of red on the side of his head glistened under the streetlamp. Blood.

Panting heavily, she scooted away until her back hit the brick wall. Glancing up, she found Sofia staring down at Dima, gripping a bat in both hands.

“Sofia?” Miller asked. Her voice was surprisingly devoid of fear. She felt surreal. As though this was all happening to someone else.

Sofia swayed, breathing in rough, shaking pants. “Do you think I killed him?”

Miller turned her head, whimpering as pain slashed through her temples, nearly blinding her. “We need help. Get Colm.”

Her lips grew numb. In fact, she couldn’t feel much of her body. Was she dying? “Sofia! Get Colm. We need Colm.”

Sofia nodded. “Colm. We need Colm.”

She turned to leave and Miller closed her eyes. Sofia would get Colm.

Colm would get Rogan.

And then she’d be safe.

***

“Where is she?” Rogan held himself back from screaming the words. Just. He strode into Solnyshko. Other than two of Anisimov’s men standing watch, the dining room was empty. Anisimov had obviously shut the place down early.

“In the office,” Anisimov’s second, Viktor stated.

Rogan followed him, Cillian close on his heels. He walked into Anisimov’s office. Anisimov was standing by his desk. His gaze rose immediately when Rogan walked in. In the corner of the room, tucked into an armchair was Sofia. Face pale, she was staring off at nothing.

“Where is she?” he growled, stepping further into the room.

“She’s in my private room.”

Anisimov had a secret room behind his office where private meetings were conducted. Rogan stepped around the large, wooden desk.

Anisimov stepped forward, grabbing his arm. Rogan growled at him, yanking his arm free from the other man’s grasp.

“The doctor is checking her over. Colm’s with her. She’s safe. I promise.”

“She should be at the hospital.”

“Can’t.” Anisimov stared at him steadily, his face giving none of his emotions away. “Sofia killed the man who attacked her.”

Christ.
Rogan glanced over to where Sofia sat in an armchair, her gaze blank.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Miller was taking the trash out when she was attacked by one of the kitchen hands,” Anisimov told him. “Sofia went out to check on her, saw Dima attacking Miller and hit him with the baseball bat.”

“I keep it by the door to the alleyway,” Sofia said, still staring at nothing. “Never had to use it before but better safe than sorry.”

Aleksandr walked over to his cousin. He crouched and took hold of her hands in his. “You should have grabbed one of the men,
kotyonok
, not have risked yourself.”

Sofia turned her head to look at her cousin. “I wasn’t thinking. I just had to help Miller. He was hurting her.” Finally, she looked up at Rogan. Her eyes were wide, filled with horror.

“He’s dead?” Rogan reiterated, not sure if that was relief or disappointment he felt. He wanted to kill the bastard himself. But perhaps it was better he was dead, because he wouldn’t have stopped until he found him. No matter who he had to destroy along the way.

Nobody knew the depth of his feelings for Miller. He hadn’t even acknowledged to himself how much he needed her.

Need was a scary thing. Especially when the thing you needed the most could be so easily taken from you.

The door to the back room opened and a dark-haired man carrying a black bag in his right hand stepped through. The doctor. Rogan guessed he was Anisimov’s payroll.

His guess was confirmed when the man looked immediately to Anisimov.

“How is she?” Aleksandr asked.

“A few bruises and scratches. She’s dizzy and dazed so I would say she has a slight concussion. I will give you a list of symptoms to watch out for. If she develops any of these symptoms, she needs emergency care.” The doctor handed over a hastily scrawled list. “I’m more worried about the trauma of being attacked. She’s calm now, but I doubt that will last. She’ll need looking after.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her,” Rogan vowed.

Brushing past the doctor, he saw her standing with Colm hovering over her. The bodyguard was frowning down at her.

“Miller, let me help you,” Colm insisted.

“I’m fine. I can walk on my own.”

They both glanced up as he stepped into the room. Miller’s clothes were torn and dirty, her hair was a mess and he could see the beginning of a bruise around one eye.

Fury filled him at the thought of someone hurting her, terrifying her. Unable to speak, he nodded at Colm who immediately left. Rogan moved closer, studying her for any sign of fear. But she mostly looked tired.

“Rogan, I knew you’d come.”

She stepped forward, and surprising him, wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.

He gently held her, breathing in her scent.

“Of course I came. I’ll always come for you, Miller.”