Chapter 17 #2
His smile gets wider, and his eyes get a little more intense. All of it, including his cocky attitude, does bad, bad, bad things to my panties. Except, Santiago isn’t finished winding me up or making me remember he and I have history.
“Damn straight, it is. You remember, don’t you? I’d only have to whisper what I wanted you to do, and you’d squeeze my knot so hard I couldn’t help but flood your perfect pussy.”
I’m pretty sure I let out a little pant as his reminder takes me straight back to the exact moment he’s talking about. Until the freezing cold Russian winds snap my pretty daydream.
Giving myself the world’s fastest pep talk, I manage to pull myself together. I pat his chest on my way back to the table. “We need to chat.”
Kade is standing behind a chair, waiting for me to sit, his expression way too innocent. It has me sassing him too. “And don’t you start. I know your game.”
I plonk down onto my chair, but Kade isn’t done. He’s behind me, his mouth at the shell of my ear. “You know I’m only here for you. You need me to have him arrested, and all you have to do is ask.”
While we do need to talk, him bringing it up now kind of annoys me more than anything. But Kade, being Kade, isn’t about to let it go. “I’m sorry I lied to you about what I did. I didn’t want to sully what we had with my job. Quinn, I should have been up-front about my career.”
Kade’s seriousness is deserved, considering what he did was shitty, but then he moves to where I can see his expression shifting. His whiskey-colored eyes deepen, and I again wonder how much trouble the three of us are going to get into.
And then he speaks, confirming how in tune we are. “Not that we spent a lot of time talking. I mean, we did, but more often than not, you’d get me so come-drunk first, all I’d focus on was finding out who you are as a person, as opposed to talking about what we did.”
I drop my eyes to my plate, admitting the truth without looking at them. “I need to eat. My head is all over the place. Can we just not talk for a bit?”
“Of course.” They speak together, like parrots.
Not moving my eyes off my plate of food, I eat everything, then go back for extra roasted potatoes. Only when I’m done do I realize the dogs are back to being sentinels beside me, and Kade and Santiago are sitting back in their chairs.
Without being asked, they help me wrap up the leftovers and put the dishes in the dishwasher.
I follow the dogs out into the outdoor courtyard, letting the snow and the cold weather blow over my face to chase away the unease of what we need to talk about, which is a lot.
I feel sick trying to explain why I did what I did with each of them makes me ill, but then I see Marco’s face, and I remember why I’m here.
Turning around, I see them both watching.
They don’t hide what they’re doing, and if I’m honest—like really, really, honest—I’m overjoyed and overwhelmed they’re here.
Except, if I give myself that kind of luxury, the guilt I feel just by thinking that eats away at me.
My thoughts get darker, and I start wondering what would happen to them if the Russians find out they’re not really my bodyguards, what would happen if my father found out.
The questions get more absurd the longer I try to figure out what to do. In short, I spiral.
One thing I do know is, I can’t stay out here avoiding them forever. I don a lot of the traits I adopt when I’m working, shutting down my emotions and breaking down tasks into smaller, easier-to-achieve goals.
I call the dogs and walk back inside. On the way through, I check in on the man in the rug. His eyes are glazed over, and his face is ashen.
“I gave him some water before.” Kade says. The lack of emotion in his voice affirms my sentiment that we’ve done enough for the man.
Sitting back down, I twist around, so my back presses against the wall and I can put my feet on the spare chair next to me.
It’s a deliberate move, to keep everyone where they were.
I don’t need Santiago sitting so close to me that all I can smell is his warm amber scent and feel his Alpha presence like a touch on my skin.
“Why are you here?” I ask both.
“Our last interaction didn’t end right,” Santiago says.
“No shit,” I snap back, before a wave of regret slams into me. “I’m sorry, that was rude. Let’s just stick to you explaining why you’re here.”
“I’d like the chance to introduce myself properly.”
Interestingly, he doesn’t thrust his hand out; nor does he drop any influence in his request to make it a command.
“I want to know why you are here,” I reiterate, slowing my words, getting firmer in the tone I use, trying hard not to get screechy.
Santiago leans forward, using the back of a chair to do it. It’s not a show of dominance, but it’s not a casual gesture, either. “How do you know Victor Hernandez?”
I look away from him, down to the table, and take a moment to reset. I really don’t want to come across as bitchy, but I also can’t afford to be a pushover, not here.
“No. You don’t keep asking me questions. You either answer mine, or we’re done.” I manage to keep my wits about me when I look into his eyes. It’s no easy task; he’s a powerful Alpha, but he’s also my scent match, blessed with wicked good looks.
As an Alpha, he could flip our interaction on its ass in seconds, and the way I am being insistent and assertive could easily be viewed as a challenge. I can see how hard he’s fighting against his natural urges, and I appreciate it, but we’re not getting any resolution.
Kade reaches across the table, no doubt acting on his own needs to comfort my growing distress, but I stop him before he touches me.
“Kade, please don’t.”
“We’re here to help you escape, Quinny,” he says softly but firmly. He’s got a better hold of his emotions than we do. “You being in Russia doesn’t make sense. And Santiago clearly was as confused about the situation as I was. He approached me, and we left the same day.”
I focus on him, but I also make a point of looking at Santiago before I reply to his comment. “There’s nothing to escape, Kade. I’m getting married, and that’s not changing anytime soon.”
I brace for an argument, and surprisingly, it doesn’t come. Santiago clears his throat, making a concerted effort to use the same hushed tones as Kade and me. “Then, we’re here as your guards.”
“But how? Why?” I growl, losing the fight of keeping calm. I’m so damn frustrated that they’re skirting around answering my question.
Santiago’s designation burns in his eyes; his voice drops octaves, but he still doesn’t raise his voice.
“My path to you started out in front of your building. I didn’t know who you were, but I recognized one of the ambassador’s men.
I had no idea what was going on, but I followed.
I was drawn by more than just looking for answers, Quinn.
And then I met you and knew and felt things changing.
Kade busted up our love fest, and in doing so, he completely fucked up my plans of explaining to you that wherever you go, I will follow. ”
My heart pounds so hard against my chest, I know they can probably both hear it.
“And then you were gone. There’s no way I could have let us end how we did. No way at all. I was already formulating, planning, and figuring out what I needed to do next to find you and hope you were feeling the same as me. I need you to know that. I was already coming.”
He takes a small breath, centering his swelling emotions.
And when he looks at me again, his storm of resolve has been temporarily tamed, his scent tucked back in.
Which is a message that, while we’re all slaves to our designation, we all have the power inside too.
Seeing Santiago so open and raw, like he is being, helps. A lot. But he is not finished speaking.
“I saw you leave, and my path was set. I turned, and Kade was there, but the situation with Kade was dealt with quickly. What wasn’t easy was figuring out why Victor Hernandez’s men were at your apartment, then shadowing you until you were safely tucked away at the airport. It made no sense, and it still doesn’t.
“But see, that’s a little irrelevant too—the reason, I mean.
I just needed to make sure you were safe from him because I’ve had dealings with Victor.
In my line of business, you end up meeting a lot of people.
Some good, a lot of them not bad people but not good either.
I’d put Victor in the hard-to-classify category.
I don’t trust him, despite the way he conducts himself and the role he plays for everyone watching.
“So, I decided to come as fast as I could. I needed to see you were okay, that you were as safe as I could make you. One lucky break happened very quickly. I tracked down the guards who were coming here to ‘look after you.’ I took them out of the equation and put myself into it by stealing their identities, and their role as your guards gave me a solid cover, but I needed someone to help. Someone who I figured would go to the ends of the earth without question if he had to.”
He looks at Kade. There’s no guilt on his face, but there’s not much warmth, either.
“I broke into Kade’s apartment, held a gun against his head, and gave him the opportunity to come because I saw you together.
I heard everything he said to you and knew he was my ‘in’ if you refused to see me.
I figured I’d use him to get near you before riding off into the sunset with you and leaving him behind. ”
The truth. He shares the truth without any pauses or overdone dramatics, and I feel infinitely better hearing him finally explaining his reasoning, even if he sounds fucking crazy.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say quietly before holding his hope-filled gaze. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here in Russia.”
He shrugs, and a small but fucking epic smile plays on his lips. “Then we’re staying here too.”