Chapter 6
The blood on her face isn’t hers. I remind myself of this as I park on her street. We won’t have much time. If she signed her lease with her real name, it will only take Janis a few hours to track her down.
I yank open her door and put my hand out to help her, but she ignores it, choosing to jump down to the curb on her own.
“You should rethink the attitude,” I say, grabbing her hand and tucking it into mine.
“I’m not trying to have an attitude. I’m trying to figure out what the hell happened tonight,” she says. At least she doesn’t try to pull away.
Not that I’ll let her.
I stop outside her building and turn to her.
“What happened is you went to meet a dangerous man by all by yourself. Everything went sideways, and I got you out. That’s what happened then.
Now here’s what’s going to happen now. We’re going to go up to your apartment, pack your things, and then we’re going to my place until I can figure out what the fallout is. ”
Her mouth, that pretty mouth of hers I’ve dreamed of kissing and fucking, drops open before she changes her mind and closes it.
“Smart decision. First one you’ve had all night.” I pull her through the front door of the building then tap in the key code to for the security door to open.
“How did you know the code?” she demands as I smash the elevator button, but she already knows. Frustration simmers in her eyes.
She’s never liked having security around her, but being the youngest sister of the Volkov brothers, it was necessary.
It was only when she threatened to move away from home and never come back did Alexander agree to lessening the security.
The only reason she agreed to go to college was because he promised there would be no one lurking in the shadows watching over her.
A decision he regrets now after everything has played out as it has.
I lead her to her apartment and pull out my key, unlocking the door.
“Artem.” She stands just inside her apartment staring at me. “You have a key to my apartment?”
I ignore the question. We don’t have time for explanations or arguments.
“You need to shower,” I say disappearing into the bedroom.
She’s quick on my heels.
“Wait. Wait. How are you here? How did you know where I was?”
“Shower.” I dig out her suitcase from the closet and toss it on the bed.
“No. Answer me.” She folds her arms over her chest.
If she knew how hot my blood was right now with seeing her hair and face covered in that man’s blood, she wouldn’t be testing my patience. But she’s never seen this side of me. I’ve kept the monster hidden from her.
In all the years I’ve known her, been responsible for protecting her, I’ve never so much as raised my voice. She wasn’t mine. But things are different now.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
I lift her hair, rubbing the blood from it onto my fingers.
“You’re wearing another man’s blood. It could have easily been yours.”
“Artem.”
“No more talking, unless you want to do it bare-assed over my knee.”
She gasps, a tiny sound, but it’s there. Her beautiful brown eyes go wide.
“What did you just say?” The rebel in her kicks in. She’s gorgeous when she’s riled, but with Janis on our heels there isn’t time to enjoy it.
“I said if you want to keep talking, you’ll do it bare-assed over my knee. Now get in the shower. We don’t have much time. Janis will have men here soon.”
“How?”
I ignore the question. She needs to understand that when I say something, I mean it. I’m not her big brothers. I won’t let her get her way with a sweet smile or the threat of a tantrum.
Alexander’s done his best to stay firm with her, but even with him she’s been able to get her way. Easier to go along with her antics than to squash them.
Maybe he held on to guilt that wasn’t his over the way their father treated her. Ignoring her existence unless he could use it to torture his wife. Throwing his bastard daughter in her face, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it unless she wanted to lose everything.
“I’m not doing anything until you tell me how you found me tonight and what the plan is now.” She folds her arms over her chest, glaring up at me.
Stubbornness shines in her eyes.
I step up to her. The tips of my boots press down on the canvas shoes she’s wearing. Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t flinch beneath the discomfort of my weight on her foot. She holds steady, waiting for me to cave.
Because six months ago, I would have.
Six months ago, I would have reminded myself she didn’t belong to me. I’d remember I worked for her brothers. I’d convince myself she was untouchable.
But this isn’t then. All of that flew out the window the second that Glock was pressed against her head. No. That’s a lie. I’d made that decision the second I landed in Boston over a month ago.
“I’m going to be very clear, Babygirl. You’re under my protection now. So, any misconceptions you have about who is in charge here should be cleared up.” I lean into her. “I’m in charge now.”
“Alexander—”
“Said to do whatever is needed to keep you safe. And that includes from yourself. Now. Like I said several times already. No talking. Just do what I say. We have to be quick. Are you going to get in the shower and wash up like a good girl, or do I need to waste time disciplining you first?”
Her bottom lip rolls inward, pressing tight against her upper lip. She glances at the bedroom door, and for a moment I think she might try to run. But as impulsive as she can be, she’s not stupid.
There’s nowhere for her to go. She knows Janis isn’t going to sit back after five of his men were killed, especially not after he found her.
“Five seconds, Babygirl.” I warn. It’s the last one she’s going to get. I’ve already been too lenient.
She stares me down, and I can almost hear her counting in her mind. But she finally gives in to reality and shoves past me, disappearing down the hall. The bathroom door slams, and a moment later, the water runs.
I pull out drawers from the dresser and fill the suitcase.
When she returns from the bathroom, her hair is wound up in a towel on her head, and she has another wrapped around her body.
Her naked body.
Water droplets cling to her skin. A narrow cut gleams in the dull light of the lamp, something I hadn’t noticed until now.
“What’s this?” I grab her chin and push her head to the side to get a better look. It’s short and shallow, and the bleeding’s already stopped.
“I think one of those pallet things hit me when a bullet hit it.” She shoves at my hands. “I cleaned it; it’s just a little cut.”
I touch the edges of it to be sure it’s as superficial as it looks. When I’m done inspecting the wound, I check the other side of her neck, and her shoulders.
“Artem.” She says my name softer this time, like she’s coaxing a scared cat out from under the bed. “I’m fine. It’s a small cut.”
When I lift my gaze to hers, my throat tightens. There had been five men, all with guns pointed at us. She could have easily taken a bullet. She could be dead right now.
“Get dressed.” I let her go, because if I don’t, I won’t be able to, and we’ll still be here tangled up in her bed when Janis’ men break down the door.
She frowns. “I can’t tell if you’re mad that I’m fine or just mad in general.”
“There are so many things to be upset about, Elana. I’m not sure I can pinpoint it for you right now.” I turn back to the bed and close the suitcase.
“Wait, I need more stuff if we’re leaving.”
I check the time. “You have five minutes to get dressed and get what you need. Five minutes.” I reopen the bag.
She snatches up clothing from the things I’ve already packed, then runs back to the bathroom to change into them. When she emerges a moment later, she’s dressed in a pair of black leggings and a sweatshirt that’s been cropped at the waist. Every curve of her ass is on display, testing my patience.
I watch as she flitters around the apartment grabbing things from the nightstand, the bathroom, and the living room, filling the suitcase. When she drops the last bundle of items from the living room, I push aside a book and pick up a pistol.
“Where did you get this?” I inspect the Smith and Weston 642 double action five-barrel pistol. It’s not a weapon any of her brothers would have in their stash. It’s small, lightweight, perfect for her.
“I know how to buy a gun, Artem.” She runs her fingers through her wet hair.
“And the Glock you had? Where’d you get that? Because the one you had isn’t something you can buy at a store.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Does it matter?”
“You took it from one your brothers?”
“Have any of them noticed a gun missing?” She tilts her head, a smug grin tugging at her lips.
I tuck the pistol into my coat pocket and zip up the bag. “Get your shoes, let’s go.”
By the time I check to be sure the front of the building doesn’t have anyone waiting for us, she has her shoes and coat back on. Her hair is still wet, but we don’t have time for her to dry it.
After I throw her things into the trunk and she’s buckled in the front seat, I speed off through the city toward my apartment. I’m only a mile away from her place, and she’s a little shocked when I pull into the parking spot.
“Won’t he find you as easily as he found me?” she asks, climbing out of the car.
“No.” I reach for her hand again, but she holds it back.
“You still haven’t told me what we’re going to do. I’m not going back home yet, so if that’s your plan, you can just take me to a train station.”
Every muscle in my back tenses.
“You think you’re going to go off on your own? After I had to save you from getting yourself killed tonight?”
“I think I didn’t ask you to do that. I think I don’t need a babysitter. I think you’re acting like an overprotective ass.”
The temptation to rip off my belt and show her what an ass I can actually be is overwhelming, but I manage to tamp down the beast. For now, at least.
“We need to go back to you not talking.” I jerk my head toward the entrance. “Let’s go.”
With a huff, she takes a step toward the door to my building. She’s still acting like she’s the one in charge here, like she’s the one deciding her next moves.
I wrap my hand around hers, lacing my fingers through hers and tugging her toward the door. At least she doesn’t fight me.
I lead us through the lobby of the building to the elevators.
“I think I have a right to know what you’ve been doing here this whole time, and what you think we should do next,” Elana says once we’re alone and tucked away in the elevator.
I hit the button for my floor, squeezing her hand again.
“Right. No talking.” She sighs and tries to pull free of my hand, but I’m not ready to let go.
The images of the blood splattering across her still burns in my mind. The sight of that asshole’s finger touching his trigger echoes. She has no idea how close she came to having a bullet in her brain.
My phone vibrates as I open the door to my apartment.
“We didn’t get my bag from the trunk,” Elana says once we’re inside.
I ignore her and answer my phone instead.
“Artem. We have a problem.”