Chapter 8
8
I get out of bed before Amelia, careful not to wake her. Last night had to have been exhausting for her, both physically from her punishment as well as mentally. She needs the extra sleep right now. I'll do anything I can to make it up to her, and that starts with making a delicious breakfast. It's quite literally the least I can do.
I get to work in the kitchen, cracking eggs and scrambling them with some butter and freshly shredded cheddar cheese. I don't know if she likes pancakes or waffles, so I make both. I want her to wake up to the smell of fresh bacon cooking in the pan, wandering into the kitchen to see the man she kissed on Valentine's Day and not the killer I really am.
My phone buzzes, and I walk to the table and pick it up, my heart sinking when I see Dimitri's name on the screen. I almost don't answer it because I know what's in store for me. I had a hit I was supposed to do last night, and I completely forgot about it. I was too distracted with everything that happened with Amelia to go forward with it. I had to make sure she was okay first and foremost.
“Care to tell me why Boris Von Erich is still alive?” Dimitri says through his thick Russian accent as soon as he hears the call connect.
“You only said you wanted it done as soon as possible—” I fumble with an excuse.
“Would this have anything to do with the girl you have stashed away in your apartment?” I'm silent as anger rushes through my veins once again. How the hell does he know about her?
“Who I have in my apartment is none of your business,” I say, careful to keep my voice down to avoid waking Amelia.
“You should know better than anyone that you shouldn't prioritize spending time with little sluts like her instead of doing your work,” Dimitri says, only making my anger more potent.
Who the hell does he think he is? I'm a grown man, and I don't do anything anyone tells me to do. He can give me contracts for work, but this has nothing to do with that.
“You don't control me, Dimitri. I can spend my time with whoever I want,” I say through gritted teeth.
“But when they are at the scene of a crime you send my men to clean up, it becomes my business.” His voice is stern on the other end, and I know he doesn't see this as a conversation. He doesn't want to hear my side; he only wants me to do as he says. “Either you get rid of her on your own or I send someone to get rid of her for you.”
I turn off the stove and lean against the counter, running my fingers through my hair while I think about what to do.
I have two options: let her go home and pretend she doesn't exist to keep her safe or keep her here, potentially putting her at risk so I can watch over her.
I know that Amelia probably thinks I'm keeping her here as punishment, but the truth is I know what could happen if she leaves. I'm not the only one who knows she witnessed Oliver dying. If I let her go home, I'll have no control over what happens to her.
But I don't doubt that Dimitri won't hold true to what he said. If he thinks Amelia being here will impact my ability to do my job, he'll get rid of her in an instant so that obstacle is out of the way.
“If I send her away, do you swear you'll leave her alone?” I ask Dimitri, knowing this is going to be a mistake either way.
“You have my word.” I hang up the phone before he can say anything else.
I walk back into the bedroom and grab a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, tossing them on the bed before turning on the lights and sitting down to shake Amelia awake. Her eyes open slowly, and she looks around the room.
“Amelia, you need to wake up. I'm sending you home,” I say, my voice low while I study every inch of her face to ingrain it in my memory. This might very well be the last time I get to see her up close. When she's gone, I'll do what I can to look after her and make sure she's okay, but I'll never get to look at the curves on her face or touch her skin again.
“What do you mean?” Amelia asks, the confusion clear on her face. “What about everything you said last night? You're just letting me go?”
“Isn't that what you wanted?” I ask, standing up and turning away from her to make it easier. It doesn't help at all. “You can leave under one condition. You just have to forget about everything you saw. If you tell anyone, you'll regret it. You can't contact me ever again either. I’ll do the same with you.”
I hear her getting out of bed and putting the sweatpants on while I stare out the window. In the back of my mind, I wonder how Dimitri knew she was here to begin with. Does he have my place bugged?
“I'll call you a cab. Be ready to go in ten minutes,” I say before walking out of the room. I try not to be obvious about looking for places in my apartment where Dimitri could potentially have a microphone or camera while I make my way to the living room.
Not long after, Amelia comes downstairs wearing the sweatpants and the T-shirt I gave her last night. I threw the clothes she had on the night before in the laundry, so I hand them to her before calling her an Uber on my phone.
When it finally arrives, I walk her to the front door and keep my eyes on her as she gets in the back seat of the car, watching me with her brows furrowed as it pulls away. The pain in my chest is sharp as I watch her go, but I don't have a choice. It won't be the last time I see her, but this could very well be the last time she sees me.
I have to do what I can to protect her, even if it's the most painful thing I've ever done.