Chapter 5
5
Roman
I run the water hot enough that it’s almost scalding. Spilling my own blood pisses me off royally, and it’s been a while since I saw it last.
How dare some jumped-up fuck come at me? He was a kid I didn’t know, a youngster with a task far too big for him. Someone must have put him up to it, but what kind of asshole sends a boy to do a man’s job?
Dumb question . It could have been anyone or even just a wildcard. Leon might know; he’s not my second in command for nothing.
I didn’t choose the shower gel, but this suite is five thousand dollars a night, so it’s decent. I scrub it through my hair and swipe the suds over my body, washing away every spatter of red. My stitches throb, and I turn my chest into the spray, letting the water run over my face.
I have so much going on but can’t drag my thoughts away from Quinn. In theory, I took her with me because she was a witness, and I needed to scare her into keeping her pretty mouth shut. I like to sweeten my threats with generous bribes, too, because then people think I’m doing them a favor.
It was different with her. Within half a minute of meeting her, I could tell; she wouldn’t tell a soul what had happened. She had nothing to threaten me with and no leverage of any kind. So why did I steal her?
Because I can’t walk out of her life without ensuring she’s in a better place. I found her teetering on a precipice, with nowhere to go but down.
She’s so docile, so gentle. I couldn’t leave her to the mercy of the worst this city has to offer. Innocence is worth nothing on the street. Bad people would find her.
I allow myself a wry laugh. Bad people? Yeah, right. And what am I, exactly?
Quinn’s every detail is already carved into my memory; that juicy ass, her rounded tits, the adorable swell of her stomach. Thick thighs, skin glowing in the low light. Smooth caramel-colored hair bundled into an unruly ponytail. Hazel eyes flecked with gold, framed by dark lashes. Broad forehead and a mouth that would feel so good wrapped around my cock.
I think of her lips sliding over me, her saliva lubricating my length as I shove deep into her throat. My cock swells in response, the blood rushing so rapidly that I’m momentarily dizzy, and I brace my arm against the cool tile.
Quinn is fucking beautiful. So what ?
It’s not just that, and I damn well know it. Quinn’s yielding gentleness makes her an almost divine presence, a fallen angel. She has no place in my life, my world, where I have to wade through dirt daily to stay alive and on top of my game. She’s gotta be fifteen years my junior, a treasure made for far cleaner hands than mine.
I’d better get my head on straight. Leon will be on time; he’s that type of annoying asshole who thinks punctuality is essential. I keep telling him he’d be late more often if he had anything important to do, but we both know that’s bullshit—the man is always busy as hell, so I don’t have to be.
I get out of the shower and dress, scraping my wet hair away from my face.
Time to handle business.
“So Blake got rid of the dead guy already?” Leon asks, pouring the whiskey. “Where’d he take him?”
“City morgue. Marked him as a John Doe. You’re free to go and take a look at him, but he had sense enough not to carry an ID.”
“Smart.” He pauses to sip his drink. “I’ll find out who he was and take it from there. Any hunches?”
“No.” I swill the amber liquid, the ice cubes clinking. “But if I have to, I’ll scare the everloving shit out of every asshole who I so much as suspect of knowing something about it.”
“Well, that’s classic Roman. With friends like you, who needs enemas?”
I can’t help but laugh. I’m wound up, but he’s my ride-or-die and knows when to cut through it with a dumb joke. He was at my side through some seriously rough times, and I can depend on him to get real when it counts.
We’ve paid our dues and then some; if I’d known what I’d have to lose to eventually win, I’d have reconsidered joining the game. But now I’m here, I enjoy the view from the top, and I’ll do what I must to ensure the bloodshed has some meaning.
“Where’s Jonny?” Leon asks, throwing back his whiskey. “You never said anything about him.”
The mention of my driver’s name wipes the smile from my face. “He’s dead,” I reply. “Bullet went straight through his head and grazed my shoulder. I got our team to clean up and move the car. Pay his wife a visit; she deserves better than hearing it on the grapevine.”
Leon sighs. “It’s a shame, but the guy knew the risks.” He narrows his eyes at me. “So, as usual, your silence tells me plenty. Who’s upstairs? Don’t tell me your near-death experience made you horny and you’ve got some expensive escort waiting for you.”
“Not exactly.” I avoid his eyes. “A girl who’s seen too much.”
“Bullshit. More like a girl you haven’t seen enough of. It’s been a while since you even looked at a woman, and you’ve never brought one here. Did you really lose that much blood?”
“Shut up and go do whatever it is you do,” I say. “I’m busy.”
Leon gets to his feet. “You got it. But you aren’t fooling me. Don’t get distracted by some hot bit of tail when you’ve got bigger problems. Did you wonder how your would-be assassin knew where you’d be? We may have a rat in the house.”
Fuck. I never thought of that. Ever since I saw Quinn, I was transfixed, my customary vigilance nowhere to be seen.
“So sniff the fucker out,” I say. “I’m gonna see that the girl is properly looked after.”
Leon hisses through his teeth. “ Bozhe moy . She must be something to turn the head of none other than Roman Kazanov!”
I will discover all there is to know about Quinn, even if I have to make obsessing over her into my full-time vocation. She doesn’t have to reciprocate; she doesn’t have the power to stop me. I can decide her every breath belongs to me if I so desire.
And I fucking do so desire because Quinn is something. She just doesn’t know it yet.