Chapter 2 #2
She sets her drink on the table and pulls her sleeves down again. “I really like Chekhov’s short stories.”
“I wasn’t the world’s best student,” I admit with a laugh, “but I do remember reading and liking his stories when I bothered to show up for class.”
The small smile she gives is quickly hidden when she takes another drink.
Pushing her sleeve up, she checks the oversized watch she’s wearing, and my fingers tighten around my own drink when I see what looks like the start of a dark purple bruise.
She pulls her shirt back down, hiding it from view, but her fear about the truck makes a lot more sense now.
I shouldn’t care. I’ve known her for less than an hour, and, yeah, it sucks if her dad’s abusive, but I don’t know this woman, and I’m sure as hell not responsible for her.
The fact that I’m now worrying about her going home is irritating to say the least.
The soft buzz of my phone pulls me from my confusing thoughts.
When I look at the photo that’s just come in, I can’t help but laugh.
Volodya’s sent me a picture of my youngest nephew.
Misha’s smiling at the camera, proudly showing off his newest baby tooth while Maddie’s caught in mid-laugh, trying to hold his squirming body.
Still babysitting him tonight?
I quickly respond that of course I am and set my phone down. Evie darts her eyes away, but it’s obvious she was curious and staring at the photo. She probably thinks it’s my wife and son. Normally, I wouldn’t volunteer information about my family, but I don’t want her to think I’m married.
“My nephew and sister-in-law,” I say, before scrubbing a hand over my jaw because I really can’t figure this girl out or my reaction to her. She’s the exact opposite of what I usually go for, but there’s no denying I’m intrigued by her.
“He’s really cute,” she says. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be nosy.”
“If I was worried about you seeing my phone, I wouldn’t have set it down. All my messages are in Russian anyway,” I say with a smile.
Her eyes quickly run over the tattoos that are peeking out from my suit. “Do you have a lot to hide?”
I shrug. “Doesn’t everyone?”
She looks back out the window, tapping her fingers nervously on the table. “I suppose we all have our secrets.”
I’m surprised by how badly I want to know hers.
I can’t remember the last time I was actually curious about a woman.
Truth be told, I’m not so sure I ever have been.
I love women, I really love sex, but I’ve never been in love.
I have flings, not relationships, and I’ve always been fine with that, but over the last year, I’ve noticed that the one-night stands aren’t quite as much fun as they used to be.
I blame it on my nephews and on getting shot.
My brothers’ families have made my life seem even lonelier, and recovering from that damn bullet wound had given me way too much time to think about my life.
I didn’t expect a mid-life crisis at twenty-seven, but life is full of unexpected surprises.
She checks her watch again and lets out a yawn that’s quickly hidden behind her hand.
“You must be exhausted. All this is cutting into your bedtime.”
“It’s fine. I’m the idiot who ran into you.”
“It was just an accident,” I reminder her. “One that’s easily fixed.”
“It is because of you. I really can’t thank you enough, Valeri. I promise I’ll pay you back as fast as I can for the damages.”
“I told you Mac owes me a favor. You don’t owe me anything.”
“No, that’s not fair,” she insists. “Plus, that favor is getting used up by fixing the truck. Your car still needs to be fixed.”
I’m about to insist she doesn’t need to pay, because no way in hell am I taking a dime from her, when she stands up so fast the chair nearly topples over. The few customers around us look over and then just as quickly lose interest and go back to eating and drinking.
“I think he’s done,” she says, pointing at Mac, who’s backing the truck out of the stall.
I stand up, hiding a grin at how much shorter she is than me, and motion for her to lead the way. We both toss our empty cups in the garbage on the way out, and when I step closer, pushing the door open for her, I swear I feel her whole body tense before she practically runs out the door.
Following her across the street, I watch as she immediately walks around to the front of the truck, desperate to see if the dent is still visible.
I stop behind her, not at all surprised to see that all traces of the fender-bender are completely gone.
If it has an engine, Mac’s a goddamn wizard with it, doesn’t matter if the problem is under the hood or something cosmetic.
“Happy with it?” I ask her.
She’s still lightly running her fingers over where the dent was like she can’t quite believe it’s really gone. “Yeah, it’s amazing.” Standing, she holds her hand out to Mac. “Thank you so much. It’s perfect.”
He shakes her hand and then takes a step back, putting his eyes back on the truck, because Mac is way too smart to check out a woman who arrived here with me.
“I’ll get started on yours now, Mr. Medvedev,” he says, taking the keys I hold out for him.
Once he’s in my car, Evie turns to me, fidgeting even more than usual. “I’m so sorry about all this and that you have to stay here even longer.”
“Care to keep me company?” I ask.
She blushes a deep red and pushes her glasses back up. “I really need to get back home. I’m sorry. I’ve been gone too long as it is.” Opening the truck door, she looks at me and says, “Please text me the cost for your car. I can slowly pay it back.”
I don’t bother arguing with her because I’m too stunned by her dismissal. For the first time in my life, I watch a woman turn me down and walk away. Before I can think better of it, I take a step closer and put my hand on the door so she can’t close it. Her brow scrunches in confusion.
“Do you need me to follow you home?”
“What?”
I don’t want to make her uncomfortable by bringing up the bruise I caught a glimpse of earlier, a bruise that really could have come from all sorts of things. I suspect her dad is abusive, but there’s no way to know for sure at this point.
“You seemed really upset about the dent. I’m more than happy to follow you back and explain things to your dad.”
I’ve barely gotten the words out before she’s shaking her head. “No, please don’t do that,” she practically begs.
I study her for a second, noticing the way her hands have started to shake again. Convinced that my first instincts were right about her dad, I say, “I texted you, so you have my number. Call me if you need anything.”
She gives a soft nod, but it’s not good enough.
“I’m serious, Evie.”
I keep my eyes locked on hers until she whispers, “Thanks, Valeri,” and then grabs the handle, shutting the door and forcing me to back up.
Before she turns out onto the road, she gives me one last look and then drives off. I take one of the seats in Mac’s small waiting room and send a text to Pavel, one of the guys in our Bratva who’s damn good at digging up information, and ask him to send me anything he can find on Evie Finch.
While I wait for Mac to finish, I send out a few texts to my men, making sure everything is okay.
Evie isn’t the only one who hasn’t gotten any sleep yet.
Someone tried to interfere with one of our weapons shipments that came in last night at the docks.
We managed to kill three of them, but the others disappeared.
We stripped the bodies, looking for any tattoos that might tell us who they’re with, but there was nothing that stood out.
The bodies were dumped in the ocean right before the sun came up, and I was on my way back for some much needed sleep when Evie hit me, throwing my entire morning off course.
I pull up the message thread, wondering if I should text to make sure she got back okay, but then I shake my head and get ahold of myself.
I’m not fucking texting her like some smitten teenager or obsessive stalker.
Shoving my phone back in my pocket when Mac appears, I thank him and pay for both vehicles, adding in a nice tip for squeezing us in on such short notice.
He pockets the money with a big grin and tells me to get in touch the next time I need anything.
The drive to my penthouse apartment doesn’t take long.
My brothers both have oceanfront houses on a lot of land, but I’ve always been a city boy at heart.
I like to be right in the middle of all the action.
Stopping in front of the private elevator to the penthouse, I type in the four-digit code and wait for the doors to open.
Since the elevator opens directly into my apartment, I insist on changing the code every week.
Paranoid? Maybe, but I’ve got a lot of enemies, and I’m not trusting a year-old code to keep me safe.
Once inside, I don’t even bother with a shower.
Instead, I set my phone’s alarm so I’ll have plenty of time to wash up before babysitting duty, strip down to my boxer briefs, flip the switch for the blackout curtains to come down, and then crawl under the covers.
I’m asleep in minutes, and I don’t budge until the alarm starts its obnoxious beeping eight hours later.
With a groan, I roll out of bed and take a hot shower, letting it fully wake me up.
I know I’ve gone and fucked my sleep schedule up, but I was too damn tired to stay awake until tonight.
Drying off, I hook the towel around my waist and check my messages.
Nothing from Evie, not that I’m horribly surprised by that.
It still bothers me, and now I’m left wondering if she made it back okay or if her dad found out and beat the hell out of her.