Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Montgomery Loshad Strakh, you wicked, gorgeous man. What am I going to do with you?
His real name still sounds foreign to me, but it fits.
He’s built like a sculpted Russian god of seduction and fucks with all the stamina and endurance of a stallion.
Damn him.
I hate how violently he can still make my body react. It feels like cheating.
Cheating on my lovers with my husband.
He steps out of the bathroom, out of view, breaking the spell.
Shit!
I quickly close the app and hold the phone to my ear.
“Frankie,” he answers, out of breath. “What’s wrong?”
“Leo and Kody were arrested.”
30
Frankie
—
Clutching the phone to my ear, I explain to Monty what happened in the restaurant.
As I finish answering his questions, the paramedics carry the injured drunk out on a stretcher.
“The victim will live.” Dullness fills my chest, a heaviness I can’t escape. “But he probably has a concussion, head wounds, and broken bones. He’ll sue.”
“He assaulted you,” Monty says. “We’ll get him on that.”
“He was drunk.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll call my legal team. They’ll take care of it.”
“Not Melanie?”
“My local attorneys will handle it faster. You said the guards are injured? Are they with you?”
“Jasper’s here.” I glance at the older man hovering a few feet away.
“Put him on the phone.”
Monty’s hurried movements rustle through the connection, the shuffle of clothes, footsteps, and quickening breaths. I assume he’s coming, but I need to know for sure.
“Monty…” I tap my chest, trying to loosen the tightness as I say the words that feel so right and so wrong at the same time. “I need you.”
Silence.
It lasts so long I wonder if he disconnected.
Then his deep baritone whispers in my ear, “You have me.”
He’s gorgeous, rich, and offering himself in no uncertain terms. What more could a girl want?
She wants his brother and nephew, that’s what.
He clears his throat. “Just got out of the shower. Almost dressed. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Another pause of silence. “I’m sorry, darling. I should’ve been there.”
“No. That’s not…” Lowering my voice, I tighten my grip on the phone. “Something else happened. I received a call after the assault.”
I repeat what the caller said and describe the synthesized voice.
“Goddammit! Fuck!” He makes a dangerous sound in his throat. “Put Jasper on the phone. Now.”
I hand off the phone and stand there, shivering in the wet breeze and scanning the darkness for an unknown enemy.
Who is it? What do they want? Why do I attract psychos? What is it about me that draws them in? Is it because I married Monty and got entangled with the Strakh family?
If Denver is to be believed, it started long before that, when I was in Anchorage.
I met so many people during my residency, befriended dozens of members of the hospital staff, had one-night stands and ongoing sexual relationships with some of them. If the stalker is connected to my past in Anchorage, they could be anyone.
“Yes, sir.” Jasper nods. “I understand.”
Ending the call, he returns my phone and gestures through the window at Carl.
“What did Monty say?” I ask.
“We’ll escort you to the station and wait there until he arrives.” He nods at Carl as he steps outside, relaying the same information.
Carl opens an umbrella, holding it over me as we walk along the dark street in the rain.
One block later, we enter the police station, the stagnant air leaden with empty sadness. A holding ground for lost souls.
Leo and Kody don’t belong here.
Since I don’t see them, I assume they’re getting processed in a back room.
The thought of them being handled roughly, possibly still in a state of feral rage, makes me stabby. I can’t stomach the idea of them in a cold, impersonal cell, trapped behind bars.
They’ve been imprisoned their entire lives.
A lone officer sits behind a worn wooden desk, his eyes glazed with the monotony of paperwork.
The space reeks of disinfectant and stale coffee. Bleak fluorescent lights throw an unwelcoming glow over the linoleum floors and metal benches, the room largely empty, save for a few people in the waiting area, their expressions vacant and tired.
A clock on the wall ticks loudly, each second stretching into an eternity.
Nothing here is meant to be comforting.
The officer behind the desk looks up as I approach, scrutinizing the guards behind me. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here for Leonid and Kodiak Strakh. They were just brought in.”
“They’re being processed.” He returns to his stack of papers, dismissing me with a bored flick of a hand at the metal chairs along the wall.
I take a seat with Carl and Jasper standing on either side of me, drawing every gaze in the room.
The minutes slowly pulse by like the ache in my chest. Stress pummels every organ, nerve ending, and brain cell. The quiet hum of ceiling fans, the rustle of paper, the static of florescent lights—all of it grates, adding to the coil of fear, guilt, and worry in my stomach.