Chapter 15
NIKA
Igroan when Gabe tosses my suitcase onto the bed. “When the heck did you have time to pack that?” I blink blearily at the clock. “It’s past eight in the morning.”
“I’ve been up for hours already. I hit the gym, ran three miles, ate a light breakfast, made some calls, took a shower—“
“Okay, okay, you’re super human, I get it.” I sigh. My body’s littered with little aches and pains, mostly minor but annoying. “When did you get back last night?”
His jaw tightens like I said something wrong. But he relaxes and gestures at the bag. “We’re leaving.”
Not really an answer, but fine. “Where this time? Another Ritz?”
“No. I thought I’d take your suggestion to heart.”
I go still and sit up. The blankets fall away from my body.
I’m in a simple white t-shirt, no bra, frizzy hair, and I should be self-conscious.
Gabe looks like a dream, like he wandered in here from a menswear photoshoot.
He’s in slacks and a button down, sleeves rolled up to show off his muscular forearms. A gold watch glitters in the morning light.
But he’s the one watching me. His eyes roam down to my chest, to my lips, and flick away, like he’s afraid of getting caught looking.
It ignites warmth all through my core.
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” I say playfully. I sit up on my knees and shuffle forward, aware I’m in a pair of tight boy shorts. His gaze drops to my hips and his mouth tightens. “Did you seriously pack all my stuff for me?”
“You take too long. Get dressed.”
“Oh, I’m dressed already.” I hop out of bed and stretch, rising onto my toes. I peek over my shoulder—and yep, he’s looking at my ass.
A thrill runs into my stomach. What the hell am I doing right now? Teasing him? Flirting? I’m not sure, but it’s fun, and he’s giving me the exact reactions I want.
He’s watching me hungrily while doing his best to hide it, like he’s struggling to contain himself.
I turn, hands on my hips, casually pulling my shirt tight to my breasts. “Alright, what’s the catch? Where are we going?”
“A place not too far,” he says, eyes right on my tits. He forces himself to turn away. “Get decent. You have a half hour.”
“I told you already, I’m dressed. Let’s leave.”
“Nika, stop it.”
“What’s wrong with what I have on?”
“You’re not leaving this hotel room in your underwear.”
“Okay fine, I’ll put on jeans. Big deal.”
“And a fucking bra.”
My eyes go wide. I fight hard not to start laughing. “Are you telling me how to dress right now?”
“A lot of men work for me. I won’t have them staring at my wife’s tits.”
“Uh, here I was thinking I’m not really your wife, and you married me for my money. Not for my tits.”
His right hand curls into a fist. “Bra. Now.”
“I don’t think so. Let your guys stare at my chest, who cares?” I shrug and start toward the bathroom. “I have that crop-top too, maybe—“
He turns and comes at me. I let out a yelp of surprise as he pins me back against the wall in a burst of speed and violence.
I gasp as he grabs my right wrist and pins it up against my head, his body warm and hard, powerful and muscular, pressed flush to mine.
Blood rushes to my cheeks and down between my legs.
“This isn’t funny,” he says in a low, menacing voice. “If any of my employees looks at your body, I will cut his throat. Do you want to be responsible for their deaths?”
“Well, if you put it that way—“ I lean up, my mouth close to his. “Let me fucking go.”
He holds tight and doesn’t move. Our eyes lock. I don’t know what I want from this, but if he kisses me, I doubt I’ll be able to stop myself from kissing him back. Pure lust rolls down my spine in a wave.
But with obvious effort, he releases me and moves away. “I apologize.”
“You better.” I rub my arm, catching my lip between my teeth. “You’re a jealous freak.”
“I don’t like the idea of my wife purposefully showing herself off to my men.”
I turn away so he doesn’t see my massive smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll skip the crop top. But I’m still not wearing a bra.”
I slam the bathroom door behind me and lock it, fighting back laughter as he releases a tirade of curses on the other side.
Gabe unlocks the door to our hotel room. It creaks as it swings inward. He steps inside and flips on the light.
“Here we are. Much more reasonable.”
I linger in the entryway. We have an outside door looking over a typical motel balcony at the pothole-pitted parking lot.
The big sign near the main freeway says OTEL EAVEN which I think is supposed to be Motel Heaven but I can’t be sure.
The clerk up front couldn’t have been older than nineteen, covered in acne, and reeked like weed.
“When I said more reasonable, I didn’t mean, more likely to give me tetanus.”
“What’s wrong with this place?” Gabe dumps his bag on the floor and drops heavily onto the edge of the bed. It squeaks disconcertingly.
“For one, I’m pretty sure the rug’s stained.” I study a big brown spot near the television. “Actually, is that blood?”
“Probably not.” Gabe doesn’t sound like he’s sure about that.
“And for another, there’s only one bed.”
“We’re a married couple, remember?”
“Right, but it’d be nice if you had the option of a couch on the other side of a door.”
“Ah, now we’re back into expensive suite territory, and here I was thinking you were trying to save money.”
The rat bastard. Now it’s his turn to grin at me, like I was teasing him this morning. I know what he’s doing, and it’s taking all my effort not to lash out.
Truth is, I really enjoyed living above my means. I’ve been barely comfortable my whole life, and it’s been nice pretending like I’m as rich as my bank account says I am.
But I asked for this, and this is what I get.
“You know what? It’s not that bad.” I shut the door behind me and put my suitcase beside the little end table.
There’s a flatscreen TV with a big notice that reads Channels Extra and a minifridge that’s completely warm.
I poke my head into the bathroom and find it’s not all that bad, or at least it’s been cleaned recently.
“You sure about that?” Gabe’s leaning back on the bed casually flicking through his phone. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time in here.”
“Why’s that?”
“In case you didn’t notice, things are heating up.” He touches the wound on his chest. “We need to lay low.”
“Perfect reason why we should be staying in a place like this.” I drop into a padded chair facing the bed. It’s about the most uncomfortable seat I’ve ever been in. I swear, someone must’ve filled the cushion with needles.
“I know you think I’m just being cruel—“ A tight smile suggests yes, in fact, that’s his goal.
“But this place is a decent choice. It’s off the beaten path, not my usual style, and defensible.
I have a team watching the door at all hours and they can be inconspicuous.
Although I bet the hookers will give them some trouble. ”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Hookers?”
“How else do you think Otel Eaven stays in business?”
I groan and lean back. “I didn’t want to think about it.”
“Cheer up. The place is clean, I promise. The staff here is solid. Mostly because a few of my guys know them personally.”
“That makes me feel so much better. Your criminals have cousins who scrub the toilets.” I get to my feet and wander back to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower. Can I trust you to be a good boy while I’m in here?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Wonderful. Not reassuring at all.”
At least there’s fantastic pressure. Steam rises in thick plumes and I let the water blast my skin, scalding and painful. I stay in longer than I need to, letting my mind wander over what my life’s become.
Married to a gangster, hiding out in seedy motels, rich as hell, fighting for some super-criminal position. Plus a crazy Turk is trying to kill me. And my cousin wants to shoot me in the head.
I miss Aunt Yelena so badly. I have to steady myself with one hand against the wall when the emotions hit me hard.
Through the years, no matter what happened, she was always there.
When the men came with their questions and their menacing glares, she was there to comfort me.
She was there when boyfriends ghosted, when friends wouldn’t call back, when it felt like I had nobody else.
Aunt Yelena held me up. She kept me together.
I hate that she left. I don’t fully understand why or what happened, but I’ve gotten hints.
My father’s death changed things in the organization, forced her to run back to Moscow, and now she’s working with Gabe.
But I wish I could hear her voice and let her explain.
Every time I bring her up though, Gabe says she’s got important work to do and we’ll see her when we can.
It’s like all the women in my life disappear. First my mother, and now Aunt Yelena.
When I’m done in the shower, I come out with a towel wrapped around my body, nervous and wishing we had more space, but Gabe’s already gone.
Instead, I find the TV is on and tuned to a sports channel, plus a note on the bureau.
Thought you’d need a little entertainment.
There’s also some champagne in the fridge.
I plugged it in, don’t worry. If you need anything else, my men are watching from downstairs.
Try not to get too bored without me. -Gabriel
I sigh and look up at the water-stained ceiling, already thinking I can find some more money in the budget for a nicer hotel.
I thrash the blankets off, storm over to the air conditioner, and kick it hard.
“Shit!” I hop up and down, cursing and banging on the damn thing. It won’t turn on and when I complained the guy at the front desk said he’d come take a look at it tomorrow.
Which doesn’t help me tonight.