Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I looked, Yev. Deeply. There’s nothing. Brecken Fleming doesn’t exist.”
As I drag a hand down my face, I slouch low on my uncomfy couch. “Could that be the reason his visa applications are always denied?”
“He put in a visa application?”
Bewilderment floods my face. “Yes! Is any fucker listening to me?”
I realize I’m taking my anger out on the wrong person when my voice bellows around my apartment. I’m not mad at Kliment or the channels everyone in my industry uses to stay off government radars. I’m pissed at myself.
I shouldn’t have pushed Polina as hard as I did. I fucked up, and I’ve regretted it ever since.
“Polina said he’s gotten as far as the borders before he’s turned around and marched back out of Russia.”
Kliment is silent for a minute. “Can you get me dates?” Papers shuffle before he explains, “I might have better luck hacking the border cameras than the systems here.” By here, he means in the United States.
“I’ll ask Polly.”
I don’t know what the fuck I said that gave him an in to my mindset, but he homes in on it like a missile locked on a target. “Wanna talk about it?”
I shake my head. “It’s my fuckup, so I’ll own it before fixing it.”
“Like your coke addiction?” I stare at the webcam in my laptop in silence. “The Bobrovs still run that side of the trade. They only gave up trafficking women.” He laughs while saying, “You were one of their biggest clients,” but his comment still makes me feel like shit. “They’ve noticed a dip in sales.”
“I don’t think straight with that shit in my veins.” I don’t with it missing either, but that’s a story for a day when I didn’t carry Polina to bed so her tears could soak into my pillow.
Needing to disperse some of my anger before it burns me alive, I ask, “Any news on Pavel?”
I could say more, but I don’t need to. It appears as if everyone knew the real reason for Alek’s anger that day but me.
“From what I’ve heard, he’s a couple of clicks out of Kronstadt. Alek said he could give you coordinates, but first, you’d need to explain why you need them.”
“He said that?” Suspicion is rife in my tone.
Alek isn’t one to hide away his achievements.
Taking out a wannabe rapist is an accomplishment worthy of bragging.
“Yep,” Kliment replies, popping the P. “He said it after he asked me if I could hack into the security system of your apartment building.” I swallow a hard lump in my throat. “He was pissed when I reminded him those old girls store all their encrypted data on onsite servers.” His reply grants my lungs permission to breathe again. It is a short-lived reprieve. “He stormed off while muttering something under his breath about a belt being tied to a headboard and how he’s going to wrap it around your neck if it’s there for any reason his deviant head conjured up.”
What the fuck?
My eyes bulge when the truth smacks into me. “I thought you said my apartment was clear of bugs.”
“It is. There isn’t a single camera watching you, bar the one I’m spying on you with now. Your face is fucking white, man. As pasty as a ghost.”
“Because that’s what I’ll be when Alek learns I tied his sister to my bed with my belt.”
Kliment’s silence has me picturing him with his mouth hanging open and his eyes bulging.
“You tied Polina Kotova to your bed!” he squeals out like a cheerleader at a cheer championship almost a minute later. “I need all the fucking details. When? Where? Do you still have your nuts?”
Desperate to remove the evidence of my fuckup, I tell Kliment to give me a hundred-mile head start if Alek decides to return to Russia earlier than planned before closing my laptop and heading for my room.
My fast pace slows when I overhear voices the closer I get.
I recognize the people chatting.
One unknowingly used his hacker to threaten my life only seconds ago.
Alek Kotova is back in Russia, and I am so fucking dead.
May as well go down swinging, then.
With my balls tucked under my chin and my fists at the ready, I enter my room at the speed of a rocket.
Polina startles when she spots my balled hands and angry sneer, but she only gives me a curious look for the quickest second before her focus shifts back to her iPhone held out a couple of inches from her gorgeous and thankfully tear-free face. “I told you I’m fine.”
Alek’s deep grumble sounds out of the speakers of her phone. “Uh-huh. Then why are your eyes wet? Looks like you’ve been crying.”
She scoffs as if offended. “I was sleeping when you threatened to send the Yurys to check on me if I didn’t answer your call.” She hides her shock better than me. “Since when have you seen the Yurys as allies?”