Chapter Nine - Emily
He’s going to get away with Willy Dee’s murder. I can feel it in the deep marrow of every bone in my body. Goddamn the Utkin’s, and their insidious tentacles into every dark crevice of the city. I thought I might have what it takes to unfurl their tentacles, but it looks like I don’t. I hate how smug and irritating Ryurik’s smirk was in the interrogation room. I hated his casual leaning against the chair, his hard-muscled body taking up space in the chair making him look like he owned the room.
And I especially hated the way the fragmented memories of his body pressed against my electrified flesh reminded me of the otherworldly pleasure he supplied to my body. Why did he have to be so smoldering hot? Especially in khaki prison garb. And what’s worse is I might have been done with the questioning a few days ago, but today is Ryurik’s hearing date, and I can’t deal with finding out if he got off with no sentence.
Nobody’s above the law, but the Utkin’s are floating above it, handing out bribes, power-playing, playing dirty and winning, and us do-gooders are losing the war. I stare at my screen, hoping if I stare at it long enough, I’m going to find out a special verdict for Ryurik.
A verdict that punishes him for treating me like a second-class hooker and leaving money on the nightstand. You lost your cool, Wilson… and you can’t do that. Not with him.
Fidgeting in my seat, I keep searching through the police database at his records and convicted misdemeanors spanning back to twenty years prior. He’s never been inside the prison system for longer than ten days. Ryurik’s an untouchable monster, and now I’m obsessed with the case. William didn’t deserve to die at his hands, and it’s likely he was onto something that would have broken the case wide open like a split acorn.
“Whatcha doing?” Jumping in my seat with my eye twitching, Milton catches me in obsessive thought.
“Fuck you, Milton. Don’t sneak up on me like that!” I hiss, currently petrified of my own shadow.
“Hey, hey. You okay?” His face ripples with concern.
“No. I interviewed an Utkin yesterday.”
“And?”
“He’s a fucking jerk with a superiority complex. What’s new,” I reply glumly, looking over my notes again, wanting to find a way to pin him. But it’s more than that. This is personal. And I hate that I can’t tell anyone about that part, and it’s killing me inside.
I don’t want to think about him, but all I see is us tangling under the sheets, his rock-solid abs touching mine, the softness of his touch, the hotel shower soap sliding down my body, the scent—
“Hmm. Did he rattle your cage a little? You seem off about it.”
“Sure. He gave it a shake, but I gave it back some. I need to find out about this hearing. I don’t want him being able to post bail.”
“What’s it set to?”
“Two mil.”
Milton whistles. “If that was a petty crime, his ass would be in jail. I wouldn’t even be able to put my house on the market to raise that type of collateral.”
“Right?” Frustrated, I tap my fingers on the side of my Styrofoam coffee cup. I have other cases to sink my teeth into and provide my preliminary findings for, but Ryurik’s case is a priority. To both me and the department.
“Hey. You’re going to win some and you’re going to lose some. Keep chipping away and you’ll get the big fish. You might need to work at taking all the small fish around him. You know… take the legs from under him.”
I nod at Milton’s wisdom because I know he’s right. Chip, chip, chip away.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. See you Friday night for drinks?”
“You bet.” Milton walks off, and I make a beeline for Jackson’s office, taking advantage of his open-door policy. “Knock, knock.”
“Come in.”
Sighing, I sit down rubbing my knees. “Any news on Ryurik?”
“He’s in the hearing as we speak, but I gotta tell you, it’s not looking good. The evidence is circumstantial at best. He’s going to shake this one off again,” Jackson says in a disappointed tone. “Keep working on the case. We’re not giving up.”
“No. We’re not. Let me know?” Lingering in the door, Jackson puts his head down.
“Will do.”
But I hear nothing and go home starved—both for information and in general. By the time I get home, I’ve already pre-ordered enough Thai food to last me for three or four days. I need time to decompress myself from my disjointed thoughts and Ryurik creeping up on me.
As soon as I get to the door, I let my feet out of my shoes and take off my socks, shaking my head at the strange day. And to top it off, I still don’t know if Ryurik was sentenced for a court hearing, bail, or anything. It’s been crickets all day from my boss.
Pouring myself a drink, I fling myself on the couch, not knowing how to feel, and that’s when I get the text message from Jackson.
JACKSON: Alert. Ryurik found not guilty. He’s out.
Shocked, I shoot up on the couch, my heartrate cranking up to explosive levels. “What? Fucking no!” I stare at the text flabbergasted at the result.
ME: On what grounds?
JACKSON: As I mentioned. Not enough evidence. We’re going to have to try a different method.
ME: Right. Sorry. Anything else I need to know?
JACKSON: Stay safe.
ME: Okay. Thanks.
Slowly, I put my cell phone down, adjusting to the news. I can’t believe Ryurik got off. The man needs to take his punishment and to take up space in a jail cell. I hate part of the reason I feel this way. Deep down there’s a swirling resentment about Ryurik not calling me after we slept together, but I’m not supposed to be thinking about that. I should be caring about the fact he’s a Bratva underboss.
A knock at the door captures my attention, giving me relief. “Ugh. Coming. Great. Thai is here. It makes everything better,” I say to myself out loud, answering the door barefoot and not looking at the peephole.
I pull the door open, and the man evading a jail cell is standing at my door wearing a cocky smirk. Be careful. Jackson’s text message rings in my ears—but it is too late. Ryurik’s already swept past me, entering my home, his cologne permeating my entire apartment.
“Evening, Emily. I see you’re settling in for the night,” Ryurik says with a sneaky sneer as my eyes roam the room, scanning for my gun. I find it in my holster and snatch it off the kitchen bench, my face tight, but it does nothing to deter Ryurik.
“Get the fuck out of here, Ryurik,” I command, but I hold the gun near the side of my body. I’m expecting myself to fear him, but I’m not. I just want him to get out of my apartment and out of the grooves of my mind.
“Ah, you’ve got a gun. Pity I don’t think you have the guts to shoot me,” he says, his piercing green eyes more vibrant than I’ve ever seen them. I would take my time to look deeply into them if I didn’t already know they were mini cesspools of danger.
“I will fucking shoot you,” I tell him, retreating and putting distance between him and me by curving my body quickly behind the shield of my kitchen table.
“Really?” He crosses his arms, his tan leather jacket crunching at the movement, his skintight black jeans smoothed over his legs. God. They shows off his package. Keep your eyes up. Look up.
“Yes really,” I state evenly watching him carefully, my breath steady.
Ryurik flicks his thick bedhead hair out of his eyes. Don’t. Do. That. You’re turning me on. A straight shot of heat rides through my pussy, but I keep my gun ready by my side. He’s right. I’m not going to shoot him. If I’m being real, I’m shocked he has the balls to walk right into my apartment the way he has.
“Let’s get past that, shall we? I’m a free man as you can see.” He holds his arms out wide with a grin curving on his wickedly sinful mouth.
“No. You’re a crooked man.”
“I told you, sweet cheeks. No evidence. You’re a detective, though. What am I telling you for?” He steps closer, his eyes slanting together as I shuffle around the table.
“Get the fuck out, Ryurik.”
“Not before I say a few things.”
I want to repeat myself again but know he won’t leave until it gets off his chest, so I have to concede this time. “What?”
Ryurik strokes my kitchen table with his finger, a silver skull ring on it keeping it company, a secretive smirk on his face. He looks up, his eyes talking to mine. “I did kill that detective. Willy motherfucker Dee. He got close.” He pauses, taking a step closer, my body shaking. “Too close,” he hisses, but I keep a firm grip on my gun. “That’s what happens to cops who try to dig up dirt on me.” He’s close enough for me to smell the fresh mint on his breath, and I want him to back up, but my legs stay frozen like icicles, sticking to my apartment floor.
He’s unhinged. A true psycho for not caring about entering my apartment. There can only be one reason for that. He’s not going to get caught. How am I going to tell my boss I slept with this man before I knew what he was? Who’s going to believe me? How am I going to save Laura—myself even?
“Great.” I drop my head in defeat, wanting to extinguish the fire from the heat of him in my house. “You’ve told me. Now. Get the fuck out,” I say much softer, with no room in my head or heart for any more words.
Ryurik senses my vulnerability, coming closer. “No, no,” he whispers. “I have something else to say.” I don’t respond. I can’t take on anymore. “I know you were upset about my leaving you early in the morning, but I had my reasons. You see,” he adds, his voice as hypnotic as a light breeze in summer as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, my protective bubble broken. “I thought you were innocent,” he taunts in a pained voice. “Like a lamb being laid out to slaughter. I took mercy on you.” I shiver, inching my head back from his touch, tingles skipping over my skin from his deft touch. The same fingers I let inside me.
“Hands off me,” I grit out. “You’re a coward,” I press out courageously as the doorbell rings.
“Yo. It’s Uber Eats,” a guy yells out, my appetite snatched away by the man in front of me. I keep the gun in my hand. I can’t risk not having it on me, not with Ryurik so close. The delivery driver will have to deal. The sound of another human close enough to witness what’s going on, jars Ryurik enough to step back from me as I push past him to the door with a smile.
Opening the door as wide as possible Ryurik looks at me and at the Uber Eats driver as he hands me my paper bag of Thai, his eyes boggling out when he sees the gun.
“Shit!” he recoils. “I’m just bringing you food.”
I take the food shaking my head as Ryurik slides past the guy and into the hallway, my heart beating on red alert.
“Thank you. Don’t worry, I’m a detective,” I reply shakily, smiling at the guy for potentially saving what’s left of my life.
“Ah, okay. If you say so. You’re welcome.” He leaves, probably scarred for life and putting my apartment on his list of places not to deliver to. I step out into the hallway, Ryurik has vanished into thin air. He came to put me in my place, and as I double lock my doors, I wonder if I’m going to be able to sleep as I slide down the back of the door with my bag in hand. Shitty day is an understatement.
“That’s what happens to cops who try to dig up dirt on me.”