Chapter 12
NIKOLAI
We were so close, but Knox slipped through our fingers.
His fucking cigar was still smouldering in his ashtray.
“It’s like he knew we were coming.” Alexei slumps into the passenger seat.
I give him a grunt of agreement.
It’s frustrating.
My phone dings with a text. Maybe that’s Enzo with a new tip?
Lara: I need you to pick up Elena in the morning
Me: I can’t. I’m watching Melissa
Lara: I need you too
Me: k
Shit.
I love my sister, but there are some times in her life when she slips off of the face of the earth without reason.
I learned a long time ago not to question it.
She’s putting me in a bind, though.
“I’m dropping you at your house.” Making a swift left turn, the tires chirp and we both lean with the force.
“In a hurry to get back to that girl?” Alexei peels himself away from the door as I straighten the car.
“I need to call Enzo and clear her. Lara is doing a runner.” I don’t know what else to call it. What she does when she doesn’t answer, I can only guess.
She’s been around Mikhail and I long enough to have learned to evade our questions, and us.
Alexei’s face pales. “I worry when she does this.”
I forget he’s seen her disappear also. He always takes it personally, like he’s failed in a mission.
His shoulders are sagging when he climbs out.
He shouldn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve.
Enzo picks up on the second ring.
“Nikolai. What can I do for you?” He has a distinct lilt to how he says my name.
I wonder sometimes about his roots.
“I need a background check on the girl that’s staying with me. Melissa Perkins.” I may be introducing her to my daughter soon.
If there’s anything in her past, I want to know it before that happens.
There are some tapping noises coming from his end. “She looks clear, but I can run a deep scour overnight. I’ll let you know in the morning.”
“Fine.” Clicking the phone off, I drop it in the center.
Limbo is a rough place to be. I hate not knowing.
When I walk into the safe house, the smell of food makes my mouth water. The burger I grabbed with Alexei wore off hours ago.
“Hi!” Melissa steps around the counter with a wide smile on her face.
Her tight black tank hugs her curves and is cut low enough to leave little to the imagination.
It’s hard not to look.
“I tried a new recipe?—”
A groan escapes me before I can stop it.
“Funny. I taste tested it first. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.” She holds her hands up and shrugs her shoulders before stepping back into the kitchen.
Balancing two plates, she drops one down in front of each of us.
I really hope this is edible.
Taking a tentative bite, I try not to look at her as she watches me.
Okay, it isn’t horrible.
A bit bland, but decent.
“This is much better.” By a tiny amount.
At least I don’t feel like my throat is closing off when I swallow.
“Oh good!” She falls into idle chatter about the cooking shows she’s been watching.
I try to listen, but find myself watching her mouth move as she talks.
Nothing she says is of interest to me, but I do like watching her lips form the words.
“Does that sound tasty?” She waves her fork before taking the morsel from the tines.
“What?” I missed the question.
“Pancakes?” Her eyebrows raise as she repeats herself.
“Sure. I like them.” I’m not sure I understand her enthusiasm, though.
It’s like she’s trying to get excited about mundane things.
Is that what people outside do?
Think about baking?
It sounds boring.