CHAPTER FOUR
Rush
Two Years Ago
“I ’m going to murder him.”
Rose is all flashing eyes and claws, and I’m here for it.
“Y’know…” I say, scratching the black piece of fluff in my lap behind the ears as she storms about, dressed like fucking Nikolai, but cooler. And hotter. Way, way hotter, like thirties gangster hot. “I knew from the first time I laid eyes on you that you’d be the one for Nikolai.”
His wife spins, long dark hair swirling as she turns her ire on me. “Was that before you helped drug and kidnap me, or after?”
“See? That, right there–pure Nikolai catnip.”
She’s really mad at him if she’s bringing that up.
“Shut it, Rush, or I’ll invite that girl who won’t leave you alone out for lunch. I’ll talk about how you’re shy and into her, but she needs to make a real effort.”
I pause stroking the kitten. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“Aw, c’mon. You’re meant to make him softer and cuddlier, not be like him.”
She shrugs. “Niko is not soft and cuddly. He’s a bad man.”
I wince. I get the feeling the bad man would hate her calling him that in such a loving voice, even to me.
“Why are you mad? You’re the one-woman machine of Queenstown. I’m beginning to think people are more scared of you than him.”
“They’re scared they’ll piss him off if they upset me.” Rose grins, but then remembers she’s mad and goes back to pacing. “And I’m just boosting the business. I’m still killing him.”
“I think he might kill you first…well, lightly maim. I don’t think he’s into pets.” But he’s into Rose and he’ll suffer for her. Nikolai is a softy where she’s concerned. “Why do you want to kill him, anyway?”
She stomps off. They’ve been married almost five years now, and I’ve never seen Nikolai happier. At least, whatever passes as happiness for the old fuck face.
Rose nabs a bottle of Nikolai’s precious whiskey from the bar then narrows her eyes at me. “Whatever you’re thinking, you better not say it to him. He might shoot you, just a little. Nothing, y’know, fatal.”
“My face is fine.”
She laughs darkly. “You give away everything, Rush.”
“Hey, at least I turned up to your wedding, unlike the two of you.”
She gives me a sour look. “Genius says you slept with a different girl every night. Gross.”
“What’s gross is you and Niko .” Now, she smiles stupidly. I roll my eyes. “You, Rose, just had to run off.”
“We had a Nikolai-style wedding.”
I sigh and change the subject. “What’s this thing called?”
I look down at the black kitten in my lap. It opens its green eyes, blinks, yawns, shows me its fangs, and then latches on with tiny needle claws and bites. “Ow!”
“Little Nicky, no!”
“Oh, fuck, he’s definitely killing you.” I shake my head. “Like that fucking old movie?”
“He’s a baby Satan, aren’t you?” She waggles a finger at the kitten, but otherwise makes no attempt to pull him off me. I manage that myself. I’m bleeding, but she smiles like the damn thing did something praiseworthy.
“Rose.”
“Good boy, are you hungry?”
“I’m not into eating kittens.”
“I’m talking to the cat, not you.” Rose meets my eye. “I couldn’t leave him. He was sitting there today, so lost and skinny, so now he’s mine.”
I’m pretty sure this is Rose’s metaphor for life. She sort of ended up turning the tables and making Nikolai hers.
“Jesus.”
“His name is actually Dante, I think.”
“Another little Nicky?” I snicker. “Like the Hell story?”
“Yes, and like Nikolai’s tattoos.”
I roll my eyes and groan. “God, woman. You’re asking for it.”
“No,” she snaps. “Nikolai is.”
“Why—”
“Because,” Nikolai says behind her, “there was an incident.”
“Asshole.” In a flash, Rose hurls the whiskey bottle at his head.
Nikolai catches it effortlessly. “Rose.”
The warning is something no one in their right mind ignores. I hold my breath; Rose isn’t in her right mind.
“This shit is expensive.” Nikolai shakes it at her and sets it down.
“You could have died.” Rose glares. “I’m not interested in being a widow. I like black, I just don’t want to wear it all the time. Plus, I’d have to find a new man…”
Nikolai grunts a laugh. “Like I’d let another man touch you.”
“What are you going to do if you’re dead, Nikolai?” she taunts.
He grins slowly as he crosses to her. My cousin slides an arm around her, and I’m not sure if I should cover the kitten’s innocent eyes.
“Haunt them,” Nikolai says. “With extreme prejudice.”
He kisses her, and I look at the cat. It’s cute for an evil attack machine.
Suddenly, Nikolai breaks the kiss and points. “What the actual fuck is that?”
I hang out with Dante, or whatever he’ll end up being named, as Nikolai and Rose argue.
The argument will lead to kissing and then they’ll probably have sex.
Probably?
More like will.
People need warning horse blinkers coming in here. Not that Nikolai is about to let someone see her naked again, but one day, he’ll slip up.
In the kitchen, I set the kitten on the counter, find a saucer, and open the fridge. I’ll pour some…kitten milk? Whatever. I grab a carton and serve the kitten. The cat laps it with a pink tongue and purrs like the loudest motor.
I’m sure the cat’s no bigger than my hand. Whatever–it probably won’t stay.
Apart from the fucking kitten milk, there’s a bag of freeze-dried raw food, so I make some up for the kitten, who cries like his tummy isn’t full of milk.
I am never having fucking kids. Jesus.
The cat dances, looking anxious, until I put the bowl down. Then, I add some water in a fat glass for it.
Nikolai appears and just stares at the kitten. His tie is askew, and there’s a bite mark on his neck, red and purple. “What the fuck, Rush? Are you building a cat high rise on the counter?” he asks.
“Er…” I realize I’ve picked up the jacket I dumped when I went looking for one of my IPAs earlier in my hands. Because, yeah, I was going to make a barrier. I put it down. “No.”
The kitten chooses that moment to take up residence on my jacket. He turns and kneads it, turns, kneads again, and then settles down into a ball, purring.
Nikolai looks at the cat. “Why did you get a fucking wild animal?”
“Rose got it. Your wife, old man,” I say. “Blame her.”
He raises a brow, then goes to the fridge and pulls out a juice, tossing me a beer.
“Losing your touch,” I say. “You’re going soft in your old age. Always knew it would happen.”
“I can prove you wrong. I could kill you.”
I point at the cat. “In front of the child?”
“I can take a kitten that size out.” He shrugs.
“Nikolai.”
“I’m kidding. I’m not that evil.” Suddenly, he puts down the juice, opens the cupboard, and pulls out a bottle of cooking bourbon. It’s better than what most people drink, but that’s Nikolai. He pulls off the top and takes a deep swallow. “You don’t think she wants a kid, do you?”
“She’s your wife.”
He acts like I didn’t say anything. “Rose says she doesn’t, but she brings home a cat.”
I think about it. “Don’t know what to tell you, man. It’s a cat.”
“Fuck.” He takes another swig. “I can see that. I meant…does it have another meaning?”
“Meaning? Like what?”
We both stare at the cat, and it starts cleaning itself. What’s he thinking? Like… kids?
Snorting, I shake my head and look at him. I love Nikolai, but he really does look like he barely escaped with his life. I point at his singed suit. “You gonna tell me?”
“It…it wasn’t good. I knew something was going down, but not that. Everyone’s safe, and old Bernie went and burned millions in product that wasn’t mine. I wasn’t there to steal or shake him down. Just wanted to see if he wanted to deal with us.”
“The Smith family side?”
Nikolai nods. “Yeah, but not with them. Cuts deals to be on their land, but…something had him twitchy.”
“Rose can see right through your lies.”
He glares and swigs from the bottle. “I never lie to you or Rose. I don’t lie to people in general, but never you two. She saw through my downplay of events. That’s my Rose.”
The pride and love shines through. For Nikolai Wilder, it’s equal to screaming declarations from rooftops. He’s never as soft and human as he is with her. More than with me, which is how it should be. They’re married, and he sacrificed everything to finally find the happiness he deserves. It’s been almost five years of bliss for them.
“Damn, old man—”
He makes a face. “Stop calling me that.”
“You are. You’re pushing it in years. Your forties. Old. Man.” Mind you, he’s in the best damn shape I’ve seen him, even fitter than he got after he was shot.
“You’re not too old for me to give you a beating.”
I laugh, but it fades. “I’m glad she makes you happy. She loves you, Nikolai.”
“I know. It’s the most frightening and thrilling thing in the world. I guess…” He sets down the bottle. “I guess I better go see her, find out about her day.”
“Wait. Dante?”
“Who?” he asks.
“The cat. Dante. What about him?”
Nikolai winces. “Fuck no. She didn’t.”
“It’s better than little Nicky.” I shrug. “Ask Rose.”
He points at the cat. “That’s your responsibility for the night.”
“And tomorrow?”
“It’s out of here. That’s my final word.”