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)
Mine is from fear.
Too scared to speak, I remain quiet.
It pisses Vasily off.
He’s a mean drunk.
“Fine. Stay here. See if I give a shit.”
He pushes me back as if I mean nothing to him before he slides into the back of the SUV overstuffed with his fraternity brothers. When they leave nothing but a cloud of dust in their wake, anyone would swear Vasily was behind the wheel. He probably instructed his father’s driver to floor the gas so my lungs would be clogged with as much dirt as his hands.
I’ve barely contemplated calling a taxi when a voice at the side says, “Do you need a ride?”
I’ve seen him somewhere, but I can’t quite pinpoint where until he unshadows his face. He’s the man who defended me at Yev’s apartment weeks ago. He pushed off the guy asking if I wanted to take a ride on his face before making sure I made it back to the elevator untouched. “Have you seen Yev?”
Dark locks fall into his eyes when he shakes his head. “Not since he asked me to keep an eye on you.”
“Do you have a cell?” I left mine in the room I was glammed up in hours ago.
The stranger nods before stepping closer. He’s dressed in a suit similar to Yev’s, but its fit exposes it wasn’t tailored by a professional. It hangs too loosely around his waist and biceps.
“If you’re calling Yev, his cell has been ringing out for the past two hours.” I don’t accept the phone he’s handing out since the only person I was planning to call is Yev. “Maybe he’s taking a breather,” he suggests, his tone unsure. “That was even a bit much for me.”
I smile even with my insides twisted up in knots. “Maybe.”
After a beat, I remove his cell phone before searching for a local taxi service. As much as I’m not getting any bad vibes from the man standing across from me, I’m still a little too rattled to accept a ride from a stranger.
As I squash his phone to my ear, the man says, “Just so you don’t think I’m a weirdo stalker, I should probably let you know that I’m going to follow your taxi home.” He points to a car at the side of the dusty lot. “That’s me. The paintwork will alter depending on the angle. It’s one of those peacock peels. You can take down the license plate number now if you want. Save you the eyestrain later.”
He must hear my confusion when I ask, “Why are you telling me this?”
He scrubs at the prickles on his jaw, then smiles. “Because I’d rather you know it is me than come at my baby with a tire wrench on the freeway. Custom headlights aren’t cheap.”
It is the wrong time to smile, but I can’t help it.
“Ah, there’s the side Yev fell for.” He bobs down low so we meet eye to eye before saying, “You’re not so icy when you smile.”
I’d usually bite back with a scorning comment, but once again, my nerves have me off my game. Mostly. “And you’re not so smart if you think I’ll come at you with only a tire wrench.”
He chuckles while following me to his ride, its vibrations only lost when I slip in the passenger seat and slam the door shut.
We don’t talk while he takes me the most direct route to my boutique without asking for directions, but he tries Yev’s cell phone a handful of times during the twenty-minute drive.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“With me?” I ask the man whose name is still evading me.
The streetlights bounce off his teeth when he throws back his head and laughs. “I don’t want to die. Yev has a mean right hook and Alek talks more with his guns than his fists.”
So that’s how he knew where to drop me off. My boutique was a part of Alek’s no-touch order. The Bobrov crew was only allowed to shop online. Yev only veered past protocol because Alek brought him here first.
“How come you’re not in the US with the rest of the Bobrovs?”
His brows furrow for the quickest second before he explains. “I’m not with the Bobrovs.” He adjusts himself, sitting a little straighter. “I’ve known Yev since he was a kid. We kinda grew up together.”
That’s a proud man’s way of saying he grew up in a boys’ home.
He breathes out a hot breath before admitting, “I was also the one who suggested Feo gel back his hair before trying to sneak into the Bobrov compound.”
Oh god. I wouldn’t suggest he tell Yev that.
With silence comes more confessions. “He was going in no matter what, so I thought it would help him.” His knuckles go red when he scrubs them. “I still don’t know if I played a part in his downfall.”