Chapter 2
For once, I find myself hoping my brother’s record of being careless with locking my door continues to hold strong.
As I turn off the stairs onto my floor, Mr. Crawley, an eighty-year-old man who has almost no depth perception and the temperament of a Rottweiler yanks open his apartment door.
“Maxine!” He spits out my name.
I sigh, lowering my chin into my chest as I turn to face him. As soon as I do, I realize he’s holding Marion. My cat.
“Your damn cat has been roaming the hallway for the last two hours howling like a beast from hell.” He slaps his lips together then sucks his teeth. “I finally took her in so she wouldn’t be bothering everyone on this floor.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Crawley. My brother must have not seen her get out when he stopped over earlier.” I reach for her; she’s already purring as soon as she’s in my arms.
“Your brother.” He scoffs. “That’s another thing. Those two always banging on your door.”
“I know.” I put a hand up to hopefully ward off his rant. I’ve heard it too many times to count. “I’ll talk to them again.”
He huffs then slams the door.
Marion mewls, rubbing her face against my chin.
“Don’t even try it.” I scratch behind her ears. “You have to stop sneaking out.”
I’m lucky she’s never left my floor of the apartment building. If she ever got downstairs and outside, it would be a miracle to find her afterward. But like me, she’s a bit of a homebody and would prefer to hang around home whenever possible.
“Let’s hope your uncle left the door unlocked.” I carry her to my apartment. My stomach growls, reminding me how late it is.
Wrapping my hand around the knob, I take a moment to put out a vibe into the universe.
It will be open.
It will be open.
The door is locked.
I lean my forehead against it, squishing Marion to me as I dig out my phone to call Joey.
“Of course.” I get sent straight to voicemail. A second call, this time to Keith, Joey’s twin, and again, voicemail.
Frustration builds in my chest while tears threaten. I clear my throat and wipe my eyes. It’s just a locked door. I can handle this.
I’ve been locked out of places before. At least this time, I have a warm hallway to sit in instead of a standing outside a double wide in the torrential downpour of a spring rain.
Going to my next-door neighbor’s apartment, I lightly knock. Vee’s been slowly moving her things over to her fiancé’s place, but maybe she’s home.
I knock louder.
Nothing.
I send a text to both brothers urging one of them to get back here with my key.
Joey responds.
Shit, sorry about that. But we’re out of town till AM.
My jaw joins the list of things that ache as I clench, trying to keep my scream of frustration bottled up. The boys have been the cause of too many noise complaints already, if I start screaming like a nutcase in the hallway, the landlord might actually get off his ass and send me packing.
I scroll through my contacts until I find the landlord’s number and send him a text. He has to have the master key to all the apartments, he’ll be able to let me in.
He’ll give me grief for it, but at least I’ll be inside.
Can’t get there until tomorrow afternoon. Out on a job.
What the hell does that mean? This is his job. This building is his job!
No one else has the master keys? I send back. Surely, he’s got an assistant or someone who handles stuff like this when he’s unavailable.
Just me. I have them with me. Tomorrow afternoon.
What am I supposed to do now, sleep out in the hall? Going over to the boy’s apartment won’t help me any if they’re both out of town. If I could even stomach staying at their place.
Settling myself on the floor outside my apartment, I dial up Vee.
“Hey, what’s up?” She answers on the second ring.
Loud laughter erupts in the background on her end of the line. Thick Russian accents follow the noise. Friendly banter? It’s hard to tell with the language.
“Sorry to interrupt.” I wince as Marion bites into my hand. Poor girl, she hasn’t had her dinner yet, either.
“No problem, Max. Something wrong?”
I close my eyes. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”
“Did you call Mr. Banderas?”
“Yeah, he’s out on a job and won’t come over until tomorrow afternoon.” I let Marion down, and she curls up in my lap. “Do you still have the extra key I gave you?”
“I think so, hold on, let me check.”
I cross my fingers while she does her thing on the other side of the line. A heavy voice asks her what she’s doing, and she explains that she’s looking for my spare key.
Another voice asks how I got locked out, and my throat clenches. It’s smooth and dark, this familiar voice. For weeks, I’ve tried to put that voice out of my mind, to put the face that belongs to it out of my soul, and now it’s on the other side of this phone call.
“Yes! I got it.” Vee announces. “I have it.”
“Oh, thank God!” I do a small fist pump, not wanting to disturb Marion still sleeping in my lap.
“How did she get locked out?” There’s that voice again.
“Uh, how’d you get locked out?” She asks, and from the sound of her voice I already know there’s a demon glaring down at her.
“My brother borrowed the key and forgot to drop it in my mailbox for me. He and Keith aren’t going to be back until tomorrow. They went out somewhere.” I stroke Marion. “Where are you, I’ll come get it.”
“No. I’ll bring it.” The demon says.
“No. Vee, don’t let him come here. I’ll come pick it up,” I say fiercely.
“Too late. He’s gone.” At least she sounds slightly apologetic.
“Gone? Catch him!”
“He’ll get there faster than you can get here, Max. I heard him talking with Kaz, he has somewhere to be in a little while. He’ll give you the keys, then leave.”
“You promise?”
There’s a pause.
Then another one.
“Vee?”
“Sorry, I was trying to figure out if there’s a way to promise that without lying.”
“You’re a real doll.” I groan. “So. How are things over there? I’ve barely seen you since you moved out.”
“I’m not moved out all the way.”
“Really?”
“Mostly. But some furniture and clothes are still at the apartment.”
“Do you think Ivan will let you ever bring your furniture to his place?”
“I guess not.” She sighs, but there’s a contentedness in her voice that dredges up a pea-sized bit of jealousy.
Vee met Ivan at work, and he chased her relentlessly. He’s also high up there in the Russian Bratva, which probably causes more problems than not. So I guess I don’t have too much to be envious over, except that he loves her more than life and would do anything to make her happy.
She’s found a family with him.
There’s that pang of envy again.
“I guess I have moved out then. I should probably tell Banderas.” She laughs.
“Already done.” Ivan’s voice wafts through the phone. “The game’s over, let’s go home.”
“You have to go.” I say for her.
“Yeah. I’ll see you at Nicolette’s party, right?”
“Definitely. And maybe you can come over next weekend, if Ivan will let you out of his sight for a few hours.” It’s been a few weeks since we’ve rotted on the couch with a movie marathon.
“Yes, that would be great! I gotta run, let me know when you get inside so I’m not worrying.”
“Will do.” I end the call and lean my head back against my door.
My stomach growls again, but I force myself to think of something else. Anything other than how hungry I am. Or how tired I am.
A yawn cuts through my attempt to ignore my fatigue. I check my phone for the time. It’s past eight already. By the time he gets here and leaves, I’ll just make a quick bite to eat then hit the sack.
The new set of turnstile racks I ordered to replace the broken set from this afternoon, should be arriving first thing in the morning. I’d like to get it all set up before we open.
My mind wanders into the to-do list I have for the morning. It’s a small store, but we’re lucky to be one of the few bookstores in the neighborhood. The chains moved further into the downtown area, leaving the outskirts still a viable option for a small shop like the Book Nook.
“Hey.” A deep voice interrupts the soft comfort of oblivion I’ve fallen into. “Hey, Maxine.” There it is again, louder. “You must be exhausted.”
Marion hisses, pulling me back to full consciousness. My heart leaps into overdrive, and I suck in a large breath as though I’ve been underwater.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just me.” The voice is replaced with a face.
I blink several times. I must have fallen asleep.
“Lev.” I have to wet my lips and try again since the first attempt died in my dry throat. I must have been sleeping with my mouth hanging open.
Great look, Max.
“Lev.”
Squatting before me with his dark eyebrows raised, and the same annoyingly annoyed glare I’ve come to expect from him, is Lev Yakovlev.
His pitch-black hair is casually styled, like he used his fingers instead of a comb when he got dressed this morning. His beard is neatly trimmed, more of a dark dusting across his square jaw.
He’s too good-looking. Handsome isn’t even the right word for it; that’s too sweet for the rugged beauty that he is.
All of which is a strike against him. That makes three.
The first being I’ve recently become friends with his younger sister, and the second being he works alongside Vee’s husband and the Russian mafia.
“My key!” Finally, my brain come back online, and I remember why he’s here, squatting in front of me at my apartment. “Did you bring it?”
He frowns. “I did.”
Getting to his feet, he puts out a hand. He probably expects me to grab onto it so he can pull me up.
“I’m fine.” I readjust my purse strap across my body, grab hold of Marion and shove up from the floor.
It’s less than graceful since my feet have fallen asleep while I was sitting with my legs folded for however long I napped. As I get to my feet, I swipe my thumb across my bottom lip in case there was any drooling happening while I was out.
“It’s not the end of the world to let me help you up,” he mutters while producing a key from his leather jacket.