Chapter 14
I mages of bombs exploding and buildings burning to the ground while shrill screams of terror play in the background fill my mind.
“So even if I pay Marco back every thing he thinks I owe him?” There’s really no point in my asking.
I already know the answer, but it’s gotten too quiet in the car. The silence pricks my skin.
We’re driving deeper into the city. Magnificent skyscrapers surround us on both sides. The sun has started to fade, casting the city into the shadows. Lights sparkle from the buildings like little homing beacons calling their people home.
“It won’t matter. It’s gone beyond that now.” Rurik pauses. “You don’t owe that money. It wasn’t your deal with him, it was Nico’s.”
“I know.” I scratch at my neck, where a thin scab has formed over where the crazy man cut me.
The money may not be my debt, but I owe Nico a much larger debt than cash. His life.
Rurik pulls the car into an underground garage. Luxury cars fill the spaces, all lined up like little elite soldiers. He parks in the widest spot near the elevators.
“You get a special spot?” I tease, because it’s gotten too tense and it makes me uncomfortable.
A whole war has erupted because of what I did. Because of my stupidity. Because I let my craving to be loved cloud my thinking.
“I own the building.” He turns off the ignition and pops his door open, cutting off any further attempt to lighten the air between us.
The ride up the elevator isn’t any more pleasant. He stands directly beside me, his arm brushing against mine as the metal box carries us up to the tippy top of the fifty-floor building.
Of course he owns the building, and of course he lives in the penthouse.
As soon as the elevator doors open, lights flicker on in the foyer and then continue to turn on throughout the first floor.
Stepping out onto the dark marble with subtle gold veining, I’m blown away at the simplicity and luxury of the place.
Growing up in the Midwest and going between the two houses of divorced parents, this sort of elegance was never on my radar.
There’s a strong masculine feel to the place. Along one wall of the wide foyer sits a black marble-topped console with a leather chair flanking each end. A chandelier with a dark metal frame and smoked glass panels casts a soft glow into the entranceway.
Rurik takes a call as soon as we’re inside, and he stalks off to the left.
I watch from where I stand, unsure what to do next.
Also, I’m slightly afraid if I move that I might break something.
And I can’t afford to replace even one tile of the floor, let alone the black glass vase sitting on the console table with gold trimming.
After a few more minutes pass, I finally decide it’s probably safe to follow him. I find him in the kitchen, pulling out a casserole dish from the oven.
Lasagna. My stomach immediately growls as the aroma of the tomato sauce and melty cheese hits my nostrils.
Rurik looks up from the counter at the noise and frowns.
“When you get hungry, say something,” he grumbles.
His phone sits on the countertop beside two plates.
“I wasn’t until I smelled that. Do you have some sort of robotic oven that can cook?” I walk around the kitchen island, surveying all the top of the line appliances.
“No. I have a staff.” He grabs a knife and spatula from a drawer.
“Are they here with us now?” I look around, expecting to find an army of Lurches hiding in the shadows.
“No. I told them to go.”
“When?”
He eyes me with a smirk. “When you were napping in the car. I called ahead and gave my instructions.”
Waving the knife over the lasagna he’s just cut into he says, “As you can see, they know how to listen.”
I climb up onto a kitchen bar stool on the other side of the island as he slides my plate toward me.
“Well, if you put me on payroll, maybe I’ll start obeying you, too.” I pick up the fork he lays beside the plate and dig in.
“You’ll have an allowance?—”
“Excuse me?” I cut him off mid-bite. “An allowance? What am I, ten?”
He arches a brow. “You behave that way sometimes.”
It’s a pointed comment about talking with food in my mouth, so I swallow before I continue.
“I’ve never had an allowance before, and I’m not starting one at twenty-four.”
“By allowance, I mean you’ll have your own bank account to do whatever you want with. It will never be empty.” He places a piece of the lasagna on his own plate.
“I don’t need your money. I can take care of myself.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I want to.” My jaw tenses. Can this man get any more Neanderthal?
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why would you want to work two jobs that pay next to nothing so you can keep your money in a coffee can in the freezer and eat the scraps you find at work? Why would you want to do that?”
“Of course that’s not what I want. It was only like that because I needed jobs that paid in cash and didn’t ask too many questions. But now that I’m home, maybe I can get my old job back.”
“No.” He takes a large bite of the lasagna, wiping away a bit of sauce that clings to his lips.
“No? You can’t just say no.”
He lifts a shoulder. “I can, and I did.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to listen.”
Dark clouds roll into his stare. A storm is coming, and if I was smart, I’d go inside and nail everything down. But, with him I don’t seem to learn.
“Marco knows about your job at the dentist’s office. You think he doesn’t have someone checking there to see if you show up one day?”
He’s right. Marco had already sent one of his goons to the office right after he declared I was in debt to him. Thankfully, no one noticed him except me. It was a message, one that I got loud and clear. Marco would be watching.
The week after, Megan and I agreed I should leave town.
“How does a war end?” I ask, swinging the conversation.
“When someone backs down. Alexander won’t.” He takes his plate to the sink, then leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.
It’s this glare, this heated, hungry stare that makes my insides melt. How can he expect me to eat this delicious lasagna with him making me starved for something else entirely.
“People are going to die because of me.”
“No.” His hard tone startles me. “If Marco had kept this between you and him, he’d still have a chance to live. Not much, but a chance. But he didn’t. He did this, not you.”
“Right. And it’s not my fault you had to kill the guy in the woods.” I roll my eyes. “Everywhere I go it seems I get someone killed. You should be careful, Rurik. You could be next.”
His lips pinch together, and his eyes narrow, like he’s bringing me into focus.
“What happened with Nico?”
“How do you mean?”
“Tell me again what happened with Marco and Nico.”
There’s something different in his tone when he asks this time. Like he wants to dig around my story and find the weak spots.
I shake my head a little. “I already did. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. What I want is a shower. I assume one of the rooms in this museum has one?”
He eyes me quietly for a moment. His phone dances on the counter, cutting off his focus.
“I need to take this.” He answers the call, telling the person to wait, then points toward the stairs. “Upstairs, the room at the end of the hall.”
I leave him to his call and go in search of the bathroom that I’m sure is at least the size of my bedroom at my apartment .
It’s even better than I imagined. Though it’s not just a bathroom; the room he sent me to is a bedroom with an en suite. But the shower is huge, and it has one of those three shower head systems.
After I take a hot, soul-soothing shower, I wrap myself in the fluffiest towel I’ve ever touched. When I peek into the bedroom, I find my bag sitting on the dresser. Relief washes over me. I’d forgotten it in the car.
As I dig through to find the pair of sleep shorts, I find my cell phone at the bottom. The burner is gone, but he must have forgotten about this one.
Pressing the side button to turn it on, I say a small prayer that the battery didn’t drain while we made our trip home. Full bars! Score.
I hit Megan’s contact and listen to the rings. She picks up on the second one.
“Mira! Are you okay?” She sounds panicked.
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “I wanted to check in with you—you know, after that big brute shoved me into the car and stole me again.”
She laughs. “He didn’t shove you. I saw. He tossed you.”
“Big difference.” I mutter. “Are you okay?”
“Me?”
“I’m so sorry. For all of this.”
“You already said that, and it’s not needed.” She repeats what she said earlier. “Getting you out of town was the best thing to do.”
“Yeah, but I left you to deal with the crazies, and there were more than we thought. ”
She sighs. “True, but we didn’t know that. I mean, seriously, the Russian mafia? Who knew they’d get involved.”
I sink onto a chair. “Still. I shouldn’t let you mother hen me so much. I should have stayed and protected you from the fallout of my fuck up.”
“We made the decision together, right? It was our call.”
Megan and I have been more like sisters than roommates since the first time we met. She’s the closest thing to true love I’ve ever had.
I decide to let it drop. She’s never going to admit this is all my fault. “Was your husband—I can’t believe you’re married—angry when we left?”
She laughs softly. “No, not really. I mean I raged at him for letting Rurik take you, but he didn’t even get mad about that. I told him to stop Rurik. To get you back into the house, but he just said no and went to some meeting.”
“No? His guy was kidnapping me. Again!”
“After you ran out, he told Rurik to leave you with us. That you could stay with us, that Rurik’s job was done.”
My heart hits my ribs. He was given the chance to dump me at their doorstep, and he didn’t take it?
“What…what did Rurik say?” I try my damnedest to sound disinterested, but Megan can practically gauge my blood pressure from the sound of my voice.
“He just looked at Alexander.” She laughs. “I didn’t realize anyone other than Alexander could look so frightening. I thought fireballs were going to shoot from his eyes!”
I know exactly which expression she’s talking about, and more heat runs through my veins at picturing it .
“He pulled out his gun and said he was taking you home. Then he muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t understand, but I got the gist.”
“Yeah, he’s mostly easy to read. At least when it’s about me.” I tuck the edge of the towel deeper to secure the hold as I get to my feet.
“I’d say he wants you.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying…the way he looked at you. Other than pissed about you telling him no—they really don’t like that.”
I laugh now. “Yes. I’ve noticed that.”
“But what about you?”
“What about me? I told you; I’m done. There will be no more dating, no more looking for Mr. Right. I’m done. Going solo for at least a decade. Once I can trust myself not to be stupid, then maybe…mayyyybe…I’ll go on a date. This is just temporary. Just until this mess is over.”
She sighs. “That’s a horrible plan.”
“It’s a smart plan.”
The door to the bedroom opens, and Rurik is there, filling up all the space with his presence, his arrogance, and his frown when his eyes land on the cell phone in my hand.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Talking to Megan.”
“Hang up!” He grabs the phone from me and disconnects the call before I can stop him.
“Hey!”
“Your phone is being traced, tracked, and most likely bugged!” He fists the device.
I think he’d like to smash it to bits, but instead he slams it down on the dresser.
“You said you had stuff here so that wouldn’t happen!” I jerk a finger at him.
“Yes. But it’s not something that’s just in the air; it needs to be set up.” His lips pinch together again, and his nostrils flare a little with his heavy breathing. “I told you not to use your phone until I said it was okay.”
“Well, you took my burner phone,” I accuse.
His eyebrow lifts so high, I’m not sure it will ever come back down.
“Take off the towel.”
He shuts the door quietly.
“You should go.” The words have no weight to them. They get lost in the air.
“Take off the towel, Mira.”
“Why?” I already know. My ass clenches, already aware of how hot and sore it’s going to be in the next half hour.
“Because we’re going to play a game.”