Chapter 3 #2
“Excellent. At least I’ve taught you something this year,” I continued, offering a smile.
“Enjoy the summer.” I took a deep breath, immediately turning my attention to closing up for the year.
I stared down at my bruised hand, enjoying the remaining ache.
I’d been forced to realize during the sleepless night that I would always be Bratva.
I would always react in the required method of violence.
The miles and years hadn’t taken the savage from his lair.
I paid little attention as the students filed out of the room, the sounds of their delightful squeals at the last class of the semester meaning little to me. When I heard a lone set of footsteps, I bristled, taking several deep breaths.
“Hi,” Chloe said quietly. She stood in front of my desk, her gaze falling to my bruised hand.
She had no idea what kind of risk she was taking even talking to me. There were obviously eyes everywhere. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. There wasn’t any trouble.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Forget it happened. Go about your business.”
“Who are you?” Her question was filled with a crazy kind of wonderment, as if she really wanted to know.
“I’m your professor and nothing more.”
“I think you turned into my hero.”
A laugh jutted to the surface. I gazed at her long and hard, finally shaking my head. “It’s best you forget about me.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s necessary, Chloe.” She inched closer, her defiance forcing my cock to twitch, my balls tightening. “I need to know why.”
While the last thing that I wanted to do was terrify her, it had become obvious doing so was necessary.
“Because there are some very bad people out there, Chloe, the kind that don’t take no for an answer.
They don’t give a shit who you are or if you beg for mercy, they will do what’s necessary in order to continue their mission. Do you understand me?”
“Are you that kind of man? Are you a bad man?”
I thought about her question, my longing only increasing with every passing second.
I grabbed my briefcase then inched closer.
As her intoxicating scent rushed into my loins, filling every cell and muscle with her exotic fragrance, a part of me wanted nothing more than to drag her away.
“Yes, I am. Stay away from me, Chloe. Enjoy your life.”
She kept her eyes locked onto mine, her lower lip quivering. When she didn’t budge, I moved around her, walking toward the exit. I also made a promise to myself that I’d never allow myself to fall prey to my burning hunger.
If I did, I would destroy her.
* * *
As I walked into the darkened bar, I scanned the joint, able to size up the majority of customers. Maxim had called me observant and my skill had come in handy on more than once occasion, including saving the Bratva Don’s life.
However, this was America, an entirely different environment.
I headed for the bar, immediately noticing the owner grinning at me. He was one of the only people I’d come to trust since leaving Russia. He even knew who I was, or at least who I had been all those years ago. The reason I respected him was that he didn’t give a shit.
“Been too long, my friend,” Travis huffed as he threw out his arm, grasping my hand.
“Yeah, I know. A tough year.”
“Uh-huh. Then what brings you here tonight? Hell, it’s almost closing time. Aren’t you usually nestled under the covers by now?” His tease was one that always made me chuckle.
Not tonight.
He placed a glass in front of me, pouring my usual brand of bourbon, eyeing me cautiously. “Okay, what’s going on?”
The man knew everyone in town. He kept his ear to the ground and if shit was going down, it was possible he knew about it. He also knew when I was agitated, often able to corral my anger when few others could. However, up until tonight, our heated discussions had never reached this level.
He slid the drink across the bar and leaned over, folding his arms.
I took another glance from side to side. The last thing I wanted was anyone else getting in my face. Not only wasn’t I in the mood for additional bullshit, my buddy didn’t deserve to have trouble in his bar.
“Have you heard about any visitors in town?”
Travis lifted a single eyebrow, eyeing the customers then lowering his voice. “I take it you don’t mean intellectual types.”
I merely gave him a hard look.
“A few boys came in here a couple nights ago. You know the type, rough around the edges. Funny thing is, they all had European accents.”
Immediately I bristled, my grip on the glass firm enough I feared I would shatter it. “What did they want?”
“They kept to themselves, other than ordering their drinks. However, I noticed they were searching the entrance, as if waiting for someone to walk through my door.”
“You need to watch your back.”
He opened his eyes wide, taking a deep breath. “What the hell is going on?”
“I think my past has come back to haunt me. Anyone associated with the Butcher is likely to face some issues.”
The Butcher.
It had been the nickname I’d been given the day I turned eighteen. It was the same day I’d sliced and diced an asshole who’d crossed the Federov family. Maxim had glowed from his admiration, something that had pissed off his only real son, the one with the birthright to his regime.
“Don’t worry about me, Nikolai. I can handle myself.” He motioned toward a cabinet where I knew he kept a firearm. Sadly, my friend underestimated how brutal and effective the Bratva were.
“What about you? What are you going to do?”
I drained half the glass before answering, “Not certain yet. I just wanted to warn you.”
“Duly noted. Happy to help you if I can.”
“And I appreciate that.” I noticed his gaze shifted toward the door. I immediately reached for my weapon, already prepared to face the return of the assholes.
“Whew. Now, that is something fine to look at.”
I turned my head, an instant growl slipping past my lips, my thoughts drifting to all things vile.
“It’s obvious you know her.”
As I stared at Chloe, the lurid visions flashing in my mind were difficult to push aside. “Yeah, I do.”
“Who is she?”
“Trouble.” The little girl had no idea who she was messing with, but it was painfully obvious that I would need to teach her a lesson.
If for no other reason than to save her life.
* * *
Thirty minutes earlier
Chloe
A bad man.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since class had let out.
I’d watched from the shadows as he’d pulled away in his Camaro, the rumble of the car’s massive engine creating another wave of quivers dancing down the length of my body.
Damn, the man was attractive, but his warning left me uncertain of why the hell I found him sexy in the first place.
I stared out the window of the diner, still jittery from the night before. I’d anticipated seeing the assholes again, but the evening had been filled with what seemed like every other rowdy jerk from town filling the place, demanding their share of attention. At least it was almost time to go home.
Home. That was a shitty little apartment with secondhand furniture.
I eased a strand of hair from behind my ear, tugging at the apron until I was able to jerk it over my head.
Everyone seemed to be celebrating something tonight.
I rarely felt sorry for myself, but tonight I felt lonelier than I had in a long time.
Three months of a quiet town without my friends.
Three months of pretending that one day my life would be happy.
Three. Months.
I waved at Becky after grabbing my things, the mace in my hand as I walked into the lonely parking lot, moving quickly toward my car.
Thank God, I’d been able to get inside without being attacked.
After locking the doors, I took a deep breath, still unable to get my thoughts off my professor.
Who was he and what secrets was he hiding?
There was no amount of admonishment that could shove my thoughts about him aside, but I forced myself to start the engine, pulling to the edge of the parking lot.
As I looked across the road, I couldn’t help but notice Mr. Lenkov’s Camaro parked in front of one of the local bars.
I glanced into the rearview mirror, my body quivering, the thoughts that flowed in my mind ridiculous.
“What are you doing?” I asked the girl staring back at me.
She didn’t seem to have an answer.
I waited for a few additional seconds before my curiosity got the better of me.
After crossing the road and finding a parking spot, I allowed the engine to idle for a full two minutes before I even moved.
What would it hurt to go inside and have a drink?
I was of legal age. I’d promised myself a small celebration after finishing the year with mostly A’s. I deserved a break.
Another glance in the rearview mirror and I grimaced, yanking the clip from my long hair, doing my best to fluff it back into any kind of hairstyle.
Wearing the ugly khaki skirt and tee shirt wasn’t the best look, but from what I could tell, the bar was nothing more than a dive anyway. Maybe I’d fit right in.
When I walked inside, I was painfully aware that the place was filled with men, the same kind of burly dudes I’d been forced to confront the night before.
And every one of them turned their heated gazes in my direction, their hunger obvious.
To hell with them.
I scanned the perimeter, finally noticing the professor sitting at the bar, the bartender standing in front of him. At least there was an open seat a few feet away. I moved through the crowd, cognizant of the various lewd remarks.
“Come here, baby.”
“How about a ride, sugar?”
Jesus.
This was nothing more than some kind of glorified biker bar. What was a well-dressed professor doing frequenting the place? It only added to the mystery.
Almost as soon as I sat down, I felt a presence behind me. Then there were two hands planted on either side of me. I issued a hard jab of my elbow without looking, quickly realizing I’d assaulted my professor. “Oh.”