Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 113324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Visual, Nat, visual. Now my fap, fap, fap fodder is no more. Anyway, I’m of the feminist school of thought that says ‘If mama like, then mama fucking do.’ Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are too.”
I sighed. “I am.” I’d never felt more pleasure, so how could I not view it positively? With one niggling misgiving neutralized, I moved on to a larger one. “I understand why Sevastyan doesn’t want to talk about himself—he has a past, to put it mildly—but it leaves me with a whole lot of nothing to go on. A mail-order bride would know more about her intended than I know about my potential . . . plighted, or whatever. I just wish I had more time to sort out what I feel. Jess, tomorrow I have to talk to Paxán, and the pressure is killing me. The money, the danger, this enforcer—they’re all about to make me pull my hair out.”
“I’ve never heard you this freaked out.”
Because I’d never been! “I signed on for this life”—somewhat—“and I suppose I’m obligated to pay the price when I screw up.”
In a way, this crime microcosm was its own country, with its own boundaries and customs, and now I was bound by them. I tried to explain: “I entered into this world, and it’s got its own laws. Doesn’t matter how I feel about them; I tacitly agreed to them. Then on top of that, I was explicitly warned of the consequences. Yet I still broke the rules.”
“Let’s talk about how you entered that world! Some Russian threw you over his shoulder and stole you from our house! He tackled you in a cornfield, dick-glamoured you, and you still somehow resisted—at which point he forced you onto a mafiya plane. So don’t give me this shit about how you agreed to some twatting laws.”
Dick-glamoured? Kind of fitting. “But then I fell right into line.” Dazzled by Sevastyan and Berezka. Lulled by laughter with my father . . .
“You know what? Fuck—this—noise,” Jess declared. “You’re twenty-four, Nat. Leave lifelong commitments to people who have fewer freaking years left. Fifty-year-olds and such. Anybody who tells a girl your age to make a commitment like this must think you won’t live long.” She caught her breath, then said, “Sorry. I forgot you might get capped at any time.”
I swallowed. “Maybe I should view things with that in mind. Act like I only have a month to live. Despite everything, I know I’d want more time with Sevastyan.”
But that didn’t mean I wanted . . . forever.
“Listen to yourself! Put down the Kool-Aid and get some perspective, doll. Sneak away, and I’ll meet you in Europe. We’ll dodge bullets and break hearts.”
“I wish.” When I tried to picture how Sevastyan would react if I stole away, I kept hearing his promise: If you run from me again, I will catch you. It’s what I do. And then I’ll spread you over my knees and whip your plump ass until you know better.
Only now I knew he’d probably meant that literally. The thought made me shiver. “I’m stuck here for the duration.”
“Say you accept the enforcer. Say the danger passes. Could you be happy there?”
That was the crux of it, huh? “Moving to a new country to be with a new guy while starting at a new school seems like a lot of variables all at once. A lot of choices to make,” I pointed out. “And there’s more. . . .” I told her all about Filip.
This afternoon, I hadn’t even gotten a chance to ask the man what Paxán had wanted to talk to him about before he bit out, “Sevastyan was all over you at the front doors. The bastard as good as announced you’re his.”
Filip had looked harried, like this development had really affected him. But I hadn’t sensed any deeper feelings from him. Yes, he’d flirted with me, but I was fairly sure he would flirt with a perfumed rock. “How is this your business?” I’d demanded, wondering if he’d been drinking.
“Because I care about you. Really care about you.” He’d rubbed his hand over his wan face, drawing attention to his bloodshot eyes, to the deep-seated anger blazing from them. “Sevastyan teed you up. He played you. Now he’s walking around this place with his shoulders back and a smirk on his scarred face—because he’s a billion dollars richer. You’re so naïve. You’re not even his type—did you know that?”
Yes. Yes, I did. Still I said, “That’s bullshit, Filip. Not that I owe you an explanation, but Sevastyan wants me.” Except he hadn’t given me a reason why it was me that he wanted above all others. He’d just said that he’d do anything to possess me.
“You got manipulated by a con artist, a hard-core prison thug. Well done, Cuz!”
Then Filip had added a parting shot that had made me cringe, driving me to the sanctuary of my room. I hadn’t even gone down for dinner.
Had I believed what he’d said about Sevastyan? No. But Filip’s accusations highlighted what I’d already accepted: I didn’t know Sevastyan.
“What a scrote,” Jess decided, dismissing Filip easily. “Normally I’d say you need someone over there, running point for you, skull-fucking when necessary. But then I recall how you react when backed into a corner.”
“How’s that?”
“You come out throwing elbows,” she said. “You’re nice, until it’s time to not be nice.”
“You’re quoting Road House?”
“It was either that or quote from my latest torrid romance novel.” That was Jess’s not-so-secret habit. As much as she loved the idea of love, her reading tastes made sense. Every now and then, she’d foist one on me. “You wanted my unvarnished advice, Nat? Here it is—do nothing permanent. And you damn well better not do anything until you fly my ass over there.”
CHAPTER 23
I wasn’t surprised when I got a summons from Paxán the next morning. I hadn’t slept, was hardly functioning after two cups of strong tea.
For most of the night, I’d paced, wondering how I’d gotten myself into this mess. After alternately blaming myself and Sevastyan for this, I’d settled on Sevastyan.