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This is new information.
"His family?"
Viktor grabs a file from a small table behind him, opens it, and places it over Casey's drawing in front of me. Inside is a mugshot of Hangar from what must be a while back, along with a rap sheet appearing to be pages long. I note the rape charge first. It was the last entry and also the same rape Hoss must've explained.
Hangar's real name is Jeffery Lattimore.
What the f.u.c.k?
"By adoption only," he tells me as I process the information. "Along with suffering through a horrible illness that brought her death, my sister also suffered a terrible life with a child who was out of control for most of his. Ursa had Hangar when she was very young. Hoss took on both of them and adopted Hangar not long after they married. His role in Jeffery's life may be the entire reason she fell in love with him in the first place. It would make sense, wouldn't it?"
"f.u.c.k," I answer, sitting back and taking my eyes off the insane man in the pictures.
"Yes, 'f.u.c.k'." Viktor smiles. "He's all Hoss has, so Hoss protects him. When Ursa pa.s.sed, Hoss was left to deal with him on his own. Hoss is aging, as you know, and he's less interested in taking care of Ursa's mess and more interested in making money and getting out of here. As the VP of this... whatever it is, Hangar will end up taking over once Hoss is gone. It won't matter to me who he puts in charge then, however, because I'm pulling out now. My loyalty to Ursa is done."
"I never knew about Hangar and Hoss," I say out loud, all while putting the pieces of why Hoss protects him together. "Hoss tried to sell me some bulls.h.i.+t story."
"And you believed it," Viktor retorts with a chastising grin.
"I did."
"As I'm sure you can understand, Hoss isn't proud of his relation but he loved and adored Ursa. He'd have done anything for her and did until the day she pa.s.sed."
"I understand," I comment. And I truly do. What I'm doing for Em and Casey now is borne from my feelings for them both.
"He's stuck to that story for so long and told it so many times that, by now, he may even believe it to be true."
Moving my focus and s.h.i.+fting the conversation I tell Viktor with no uncertainty, "Casey can't stay here. But you're not taking her to Russia."
"I'm finding her a home, Max. And you're here because I'm asking you to help me do that."
"I'll take her."
"That's not an option."
"Why the f.u.c.k not?"
"Can you afford what I'm asking for her?"
"Selling," I state, claiming the truth and waiting for him to admit it again. Maybe if he can openly admit what he does, he'll lose the ridiculous ruse he carries in thinking he's doing these women a favor.
"Yes," he quickly does. "Selling."
After correcting his prior statement, I try again. "What about her Aunt Emma? She's family."
"Emma," he repeats. "She's not her mother."
"No, but she loves her and she would take care of her."
"I do what I do. It's a business, whether you choose to believe this or not. I've taken care of Casey over the course of the last year. I've kept her safe in that room so she's remained unharmed. I'll also decide where she goes from here."
Standing up and losing my temper as I know I shouldn't, I rest both hands on his desk and lean in slightly. "Your bulls.h.i.+t reasoning is f.u.c.ked and you know it."
"Sit down," he commands with his voice on edge. "I'm giving you an opportunity to help. You've not heard all I have to say. There are others like Casey who you'd be helping, as well."
Running my hand through my hair as I try to grasp what this lunatic is saying, I ask, "How the f.u.c.k am I able to do that?"
"Work for me." The deadened tone in his voice indicates this could go bad quickly. "There's an incentive for you in this," he adds.
"What's that?"
"Hoss knows who took your sister Marie from you, does he not?"
"He says he does."
"He does," Viktor confirms. "As do I," he states with confidence. "Cilas has been the only person in this rat hole I've come to admit I can't live without. Being that he's a faithful servant to Hoss himself, I can't expect him to continue to work for me once Hoss gets word of my leaving."
"What's Cilas do for you?"
"He helps my girls, as you already know. He also supervises the men coming to interview their purchase. I'm always here, of course, but sometimes it requires a heavy hand when dismissing said men."
"So, you need a lackey."
His head tilts to the side as he answers, "Of sorts."
"And you're interviewing me for this position?"
"Of the sort." He grins, and it turns my stomach.
"What do the anklets mean? I've seen them on several of the girls."
"Stature only," he says. "A way of categorizing them."
"Explain," I seethe.
"Watch your tone, Max."
"If you're bringing me into this, I need more information."
"White," he starts. "Like Casey. She's not been touched. She's still young and hasn't reached womanhood."
Virgin.
"Red," he continues. "Women who've been used, but are still young and viable. They still have lives worth living."
Their lives are worth money, you mean.
"Black," he says, almost with sadness. "They hope for death. They long for it. I can't help them, but I do try to keep them as comfortable as I can."
"What do you do to keep them comfortable?"
"Feed, clothe, provide them medical care when needed. That type of thing."
"It's sick," I tell him. "I've seen these women. They aren't happy."
"Are you happy, Max? Are there aspects of your life you'd change if you could?"
Not allowing him to turn this s.h.i.+t on me, I ask, "Do any of these women want their freedom?"
"Yes," he states, plainly and with little regard. "But I won't allow them to go back to where they came from. They're safer with me."
"You sell their bodies without consent," I accuse the obvious.
"They consent with their lives. It's better staying with me than living on the streets as they had before I found them."
"Is it?" I ask with a clip to my voice.
His eyes harden with his response. "Life for them out there on the streets is certain death."
"In your opinion," I return.
"Everyone has an opinion. It's the way of the world, Max."
"The way of yours."
"We won't discuss our differences simply because I don't care to hear your opinion."
"What happens to them once they're sold?"
"I won't answer for my clients. I have their word that those I bring them are taken care of."
I don't buy this bulls.h.i.+t. Nothing about this indicates he's helping anyone but himself. However, to get everything Aimes needs, I only have one more question. "When do you need my answer?"
"I'm surprised you'd need time to think about it."
"You're asking me to be a part of your paid charity of selling women, Mr. Koslov. So yeah, I need to think about it."
"Tomorrow morning," he concedes without correcting the label of the situation. "You're clear on what I'm offering?"
"You'll keep Casey safe and you'll tell me what I need to know about Marie."
"Yes."
"I'm going to ask you a favor and the answer needs to be yes," I tell him, knowing I have his full attention.
"Okay."
"I have a book for Casey. It's from her Aunt Emma. I want her to have it and not have it be taken away."
"I'm not unreasonable. It's hers. Take this back to her, as well." He hands me the picture after picking up Hangar's file and tossing it behind him.
"Thank you."
As I reach to grab it from him, he pulls it back. "Don't take my offer to mean I'm not capable of anything more than selling women. Don't mistake my generosity for their lives to mean I won't have you shot where you stand if I feel you're crossing me in any way."
"I don't."
"Good. If you need a reminder of this at any time, try to contact Hoss' recently deceased VP, Triad. He tried to run away with one of my girls. Neither of them is running anymore."
f.u.c.k.
Chapter Sixteen.
When I walk into the common room ten minutes later, the haze of smoke is thick. I haven't had time to process my discussion with Viktor. I knew before leaving I was already late in getting to the party, but I didn't want to rush him. I needed every piece of information he was willing to share. I could've answered him then, right there, as his foreign eyes bored into mine.
I will work for him.
However, I'll also work for Hoss.
Playing both sides will be risky, especially since Hoss is bound to figure out my play eventually. It seems, though, that Viktor's information, confidence, and strategy will get me as close to Casey as I need. This is the information Aimes needs.
Walking further into the room, I see the redhead, who was with Hangar earlier, sitting at a small brown table with a black money bag resting on top of it. She's sitting back in her chair, studying her fingernails as the gum in her mouth continues to snap.
She greets me first. "It's a one hundred dollar buy-in. Hoss put your chips on the table next to Cilas."
Lifting my gaze toward the poker table, I notice Cilas sitting down and concentrating on his phone. As she said, my chips sit next to his in front of the only empty chair left.
"Sounds good," I confirm, pulling out my wallet and handing her a hundred dollar bill.
Leaning forward, giving me an eye-full of her chest, she offers, "For three hundred more, I'll finish you later, no matter if you win or not."
Not admiring her heavy makeup, mirroring that of a racc.o.o.n, and her trashy clothes, I disrespect her while remembering the way she treated Callie and don't feel bad about. "Aren't club wh.o.r.es just that? Wh.o.r.es? Your services are f.u.c.kin' free."
Her lip lifts on one side and she snarls, "You're not in the club. You pay."
Leaning down, placing my hands next to hers as they rest on the table, I advise, "I don't pay for s.e.x, darlin'. If I did, I sure as f.u.c.k wouldn't spend my dime on you."
"a.s.shole," she utters, turning back to look for Hangar. Or Wick. Or Iron. Who the f.u.c.k knows? Or cares.
Standing tall, I don't give her any additional parting words, as my point was made clear.
"Finally!" Hoss bellows from his end seat at the metal table after finding I've arrived.