by Kresley Cole
This town was done for me; I had no one to call. Decided, I stuffed the phone under the cab driver's seat as I paid him.
Under a winter-bright sun, I stumbled across the parking lot. Too late I realized that Sevastyan would have to give a damn to use my phone against me. He'd be too busy tonight with Ivanna.
I'd worried that he was setting me up for a crash landing. Oh, he had. I felt like there were parts of me scattered all over the pavement, my heart shattered like glass.
Once I reached my apartment complex after being away so long, I grimaced. I hadn't remembered how horrid it was. I climbed the stairs, feeling a hundred years older.
Inside my studio, I peered around, thunderstruck. How had I lived here for half a year? Only one more night, only one more night.
Over the weekend, I'd started to believe I would have a future with a guy who could help me stand up to Edward. A partner, someone on my team. I'd lowered my guard. I'd gotten caught up in that life, that man. I'd gotten soft.
Never again.
I crossed to my safe. I'd count up my loot. That would make me feel better. I unscrewed the AC vent and removed the grill--
My thoughts blanked. My safe was . . . empty. I blinked in bewilderment. Empty?
EMPTY?
My money was gone. My own meager savings, plus what I'd earned from Sevastyan. Who the hell could have taken it? Who would've known?
I had only Sevastyan's pin money to my name. After the cab, that left me two hundred and forty dollars. Would that even pay for the bus fare out west?
Tears welled. My hopes of leaving Miami, of reaching safety, were gone. I had no expectation of help from Sevastyan; the well had gone dry--right when I'd been robbed.
I threw back my head and yelled.
Once I'd finished primal screaming, I realized that my ID and my mother's rosary had been filched as well. What kind of fiend would steal a rosary? Even Sevastyan's money clip was gone.
Who could have gotten in? I had a dead bolt on the door. I gazed around, fear trickling inside me. I stilled, only now detecting a smell that shouldn't be here: a mix of sweat and cigarettes.
Shadwell.
He'd been in my apartment. He must've stolen everything! But how had he known where my hiding place was?
Following some instinct, I crossed to my underwear drawer. All of my thongs were gone. That sick fuck! He knew I couldn't go to the cops. My first impulse was to go throat-punch him. No, he probably wanted me to confront him.
Yet again I would be the shrewd coward, unable to do a damned thing. Stole my dinero, Shadwell? Don't spend it all in one place. My ID? I didn't need to work--that's not how I roll. My mother's rosary? Vaya con Dios.
When the import of what I'd lost truly hit me, I was sure I'd lose my ever-loving shit as well.
Block it out. For now, survival. How the hell was I going to get money? I weighed options. Maybe I should call Natalie? But she was in St. Bart's for her honeymoon. Jess? Oh, wait. No phone.
Fuck. Me jodi.
My eyes went wide. Mrs. Abernathy! I'd confirmed with her. In a private jet, I'd told myself the joke was on her. I almost laughed.
I could clean tomorrow before my exam at two and get another one twenty. It wasn't a lot, but I could increase my net worth by 50 percent.
Three hundred and sixty dollars.
Three-sixty.
How fitting.
Still, it'd be enough to get me out of town. But how to make it through the night? Shadwell had a key, could waltz in here at any time. If I nodded off, I could wake up to his leering face.
I'd gone from strong arms to hold me and bodyguards protecting me to imminent attack.
CHAPTER 35
As I scrubbed the floor of the blue bathroom at Mrs. Abernathy's, I stared at the tiles until they ran together. Only a few more hours to my exam.
Last night, I'd held vigil at my violated apartment--inside my own bathroom, with the door locked. I'd gotten little sleep, but I'd been able to steal out early, eluding Shadwell and kissing that place good-bye forever.
Now to blow this city.
On Mrs. Abernathy's computer I'd looked up the Greyhound bus schedule. My three-sixty would take me to San Diego, barely. A bus left tonight, not long after my exam. I located a women's shelter in Cali not far from the terminal. Maybe they could help me until I got back on my feet.
Until I could get another ID.
Here I was--totally screwed--and yet I couldn't stop thinking about Sevastyan and Ivanna. This morning, I'd vomited after imagining them together.
While I'd fallen for him, his preferences had reverted to tall, slim, blond, and European.
Of course, I hadn't been able to study last night, what with the continual crying and fear of Shadwell. What if I was so tired and despondent that I couldn't think? What if I flunked? For years, my goal had been to make a perfect 4.0. If I failed right at the end, why should I believe I could succeed at other goals?
My grail, my college credit odyssey, my penance and atonement. All jeopardized because of Sevastyan--
"What the hell are you doing?"
I jerked around with a scream, stunned to see him at the doorway of the blue bathroom. "H-how did you find me?"
"I knew you were going to be at a Mrs. Abernathy's on this day. There are only so many in Miami that made sense."
When I'd confirmed with the woman, he'd recorded it! "You have no right! If I get caught with you here, I'll get fired." Not that I was ever coming back.
"And that matters?" His tie was loosened, and his hair was unruly, as if he'd been stabbing his fingers through it. He looked like he'd slept less than I had--and I'd been in my bathtub.
Because he'd been with stunning Ivanna all night? The invisible fist paid me a visit.
"You appear . . . different," he said.
Even in the midst of my emotional turmoil, I hated the fact that I looked like hell. My hair was plaited in two braids, and I wore a faded bandana on my head. Bright yellow gloves, clunky running shoes, frayed jean shorts, and an old T-shirt rounded out my ensemble. No makeup, naturally.
And I was kneeling in floor cleaner. I sponged it up. "You have to leave." What did he want from me? Did he regret his snide cruelty to me? Did he regret screwing my friend?
Too late, Russian.
"Here." He offered his hand.
I slapped it away, standing on my own, tearing off my gloves. I stuffed my supplies in a cleaning caddy, then shoved past him.
"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on." He followed me as I stowed the caddy in a closet.
"I'm at work. You're stalking me."
"You know I'll pay for any income you lose, however modest it might be."
I whirled around on him. "Don't you dare! You don't get to insult me for being an escort, then turn around and insult me for cleaning houses. You can't have it both ways!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're right. But yesterday I offered you more than you could make at this in years. You know economics. This is not the highest and best use of your time."
"I don't want your money! And I damn sure don't want to beg you for it." I hurried down the grand staircase to collect my pay and my backpack.
He was right beside me. "I was angry. That was uncalled for. I would not do that again."
In the kitchen, my gaze flicked to the envelope on the counter; his did too. He lunged for it before I reached it.
"That's mine!"
He flipped through the bills, then surveyed the spotless mansion. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He finally handed my pay over.
Stuffing the envelope into a pocket, I headed to the back entrance. At the door, I grabbed my pack and snapped to Sevastyan, "Get out. Now." I punched in the alarm code. If only I'd armed it before my stalker had arrived.
With raised brows, he exited. "To be given the code for a place like this, you must've been cleaning it for a while."
The clock on the alarm panel said one! Mierda! I'd lost track of time.
My bus stop was half a mile away. If I missed my ride, I'd miss my exam.
"I just want five minutes, Katya."
"I don't have five minutes and wouldn't give them to you even if I did. Sevastyan, consider this a scarcity situation. As far as you're concerned, my ass just got scarce." I hurried outside, rolling my eyes to see Vasili parked on the street.
Forbidding clouds gathered overhead. Getting to school in the rain; perfect. When I hustled toward my stop, Sevastyan kept following me! "Dejame en paz!"
"Leave you alone? Not until you talk to me."
Would he follow me onto the bus? If he did, he could find out where I went to school. Maybe I should try to put him off. I stopped, telling him, "If you go now, I will meet up with you later. I'll swing by the hotel."
"Oh, really?"
"I can be there at five, and we'll talk all of this out."
He blinked down at me. "You're . . . lying." A breath left him. "And you're fucking awful at it."
"Ugh!" The bus was already at the stop. I took off running to catch it, careening inside the doors. I wanted to scream when the bastard climbed in right before they closed. So much for a period of calm to get my mind straight for my last exam in college. "Isn't public transportation beneath you?" I demanded, tapping my card pass.
He gazed around at all the eyes on him. With his expensive threads, he stood out like a Russian billionaire on public transportation.
"Where's your pass?" the driver barked.
Sevastyan looked at a loss. "I don't have one. But I'm not getting off this bus."
"If you pay in cash, you don't get change."
Pulling out his full money clip, Sevastyan peeled off a crisp hundred. "I hope this will suffice." He'd just handed away almost as much as I'd made slaving over a huge mansion.
The driver said, "Enjoy the ride."
I hastened toward the back, wishing there were more people. I sat by a window, putting my pack next to me.
He moved it to his lap and sat. "I need to speak with you--in private."
I yanked my bag from him. "And I need you to not be here. We both crapped out." Rain began to patter the roof, then pour.
"You're not even interested in what I'm offering?"
"Go. To. Hell."
"Please talk to me, Katya." Determined to ignore him, I stared out the window. "So stubborn. You'll find that I am too."
For the rest of the way, I refused to speak to him. When the bus slowed, my face fell. At the stop for my next bus, the one that took me close to campus, everyone was crowded under the shelter. I'd have to wait in the rain.
I rose and trudged through the doors to the street.
He followed me into the downpour. "You're waiting for another one of these?" he asked, aghast.
The temperature had dropped. I began to shake from the wet cold. "F-feel f-free to leave."
When the bus pulled up, he said, "Enough of this." He waved for his Bentley, because apparently Vasili had been following us--
Sevastyan snagged my upper arm, forcing me toward the car.
"Nooo, I need to get on that bus!" Though I kicked at his leg, he was dogged, and in seconds, I found myself in the backseat.
The divider was down, so he told Vasili, "Follow the bus." To me, he said, "See how much easier this is?" He turned on the heater.
"You can't do this to me!" At least we were heading in the right direction. Once we closed in on the campus, I'd dart out of the car. "Y-you kidnapped me off the street?"
"You forget I'm in the mafiya. Taking people off the street is a matter of course." Was that a joke? Or a threat?
I hit my limit. I was sick of men threatening me, manhandling me, ignoring my wishes, stealing my life's savings--and my underwear--and planning to kill me. "Stop this car."
"I'll take you wherever you want to go. Tell me the address."
I screamed, "Stop this motherfucking car!" Undaunted, he said, "Where are you so desperate to get to?"
"What the hell is this, Sevastyan? You were cruel and disgusting to me, not twenty-four hours ago! So why are you stalking me now?"
"I made a mistake yesterday." Did he think he could just erase it, and we'd go back to the way we were? "Katya, I was in your apartment."
"What?" I couldn't be more horrified. I pictured the pots on the floor and the pitiful cot. "How?"
"We canvassed out from where the cab dropped you, paying people for information. It led us to Shadwell. For a price, he let us in." I bet he did.
Wait, I'd walked blocks from the Seltane to catch that cab--specifically for this reason! "How could you know which taxi drove me?"
"By tracking your phone all over town. You were smart to ditch it, but ultimately it led us to the cab you'd taken."
Burn. Foiled by my own attempt at cleverness. "You had no right to be there."
"No wonder you knew about those shithole apartments. You're living in one yourself. You would prefer to be there? Instead of with me?"
"Yes! Because I paid for it. Because I didn't have to beg some sick Russian hobbyist to give me my 'donation.' "
He seemed to stifle a wince at that. "You had money. Thousands. Why not find a better place? An extended-stay hotel? Anywhere but there?"
"You're really going to do this? Then listen up, Sevastyan. I couldn't stay in a hotel because Shadwell--the guy you paid for entry to my apartment--stole all my money out of my hiding place. Seven grand. Gone. My mother's rosary too. Even your money clip. Oh, and my thongs! He's been shaking me down for months, shaking down everybody--making a fortune, and using the women as his personal harem. And now he was coming and going in my place as he pleased?" I leaned in, drawing my lips back from my teeth. "Even so, I stayed the night in my locked bathroom--rather than ask you for help ."
That muscle in Sevastyan's jaw ticked overtime. "Did he . . . you . . . ?"
"I wasn't weak enough--yet. I paid him to leave me alone." But my rosary and ID were gone for good.
The full import of what I'd lost was starting to hit. I was about to lose my ever-loving shit.
"You'll have your rosary and your money back." He said something in Russian to Vasili, but I heard "Shadwell." Oh, the plans going on behind Sevastyan's eyes.
I could almost feel sorry for Shadwell, that preying, stealing serial rapist--
No. Actually I didn't feel sorry for him at all. Maybe I was an ideal match for a mobster. My supe was about to get a horse's head in his bed. Okay, muy bien.
To me, Sevastyan snapped, "You could've been raped last night! Or killed! You never thought about calling me?"
I gave him a palms-up shrug. "Oh, so sad, no phone. I didn't toss it solely because I was suspicious of you tracking me. Uncle Anthony wouldn't stop burning up my number. You see, he stole even more of my money and was trying to coerce me into a date with some French businessman, so I could--as you so eloquently put it--suck and fuck."
Sevastyan grated more Russian to Vasili. Anthony gets a horse head too!
"You're never going back to that apartment, Katya. I'll burn it to the goddamned ground first."
"Wasn't planning on it."
His gaze flicked to my full backpack. "You're about to disappear." He swallowed, as if I'd just presented him with a ticking bomb. "I'm asking you for one conversation. Or simply give me the honor of assisting you now." He opened his briefcase, revealing stacks of bound bills. "I owe you money. Please collect what is already yours."
"I don't want anything from you. I'll take my three hundred and sixty dollars, and I'll start over. I will go round and round and fucking round!" I knew I wasn't making any sense, but I couldn't focus my thoughts. "I'm so sick of men! I was nothing but good to you--for you--and you drove me away!"
In a low voice, he said, "You group me with Anthony and Shadwell?"
"You're worse! I never believed in them!" I couldn't stop shaking. "I'd made the decision to tell you everything, but you would rather be cruel and hurt me than listen!"
He leaned forward in his seat, fists cle
nched as if he was barely preventing himself from touching me. "Let me help you, please. I want to protect you. I understand that I handled things badly. But I don't know my way around a situation like this."
Gazing past him, I said, "Like what?"
"You told me your pride burned bright. It should. Yesterday, mine took some deserved hits. I comprehended that I loved another more than myself--and that I want her far more than she does me. She'd given her heart to someone else, and it made me crazed with jealousy--an emotion I have limited experience with. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out and hurt her."
Love?
He stabbed his fingers through his hair. "I thought I'd treated you well. I thought I'd pleasured you and indulged you--but you still wanted Edward. Then last night, I realized it didn't matter if you loved someone else. I need to protect you. You could tell me to go to hell, but I would still do it."
And all it'd taken for him to have this epiphany was screwing Ivanna. Something in me snapped.
With a screech, I dug stacks of money from the briefcase and threw them in his face. "Maybe you should've thought of that before you booked my friend!"
His lips parted on a breath. "You're jealous, finally! You do give a fuck about me! Now you know how I felt when you cried out for another man!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the water tower near campus. "Stop!" We'd passed my classroom! "Stop here!" I could still run and make it on time.
"Tell me what's here."
"I will--just stop!"
He called for Vasili, and the car slowed.
I lunged for the door, but Sevastyan snatched my hand. "Where are you running?"
Eyes wide, I cried, "To get the grail!" I yanked open the door, stumbling out into the rain, almost falling before I righted myself. Money flew out after me, crisp hundreds flying on a stormy breeze.
Without a look back, I ran to finish my degree.
CHAPTER 36
Get it together, Cat.
As I waited for Ms. Gillespie in her classroom, I gazed out the window, catching my breath after my frantic sprint here. The clouds were so dark, the day looked more like night.
My thoughts raced. Too many things had happened to process. Over the weekend, I'd recognized that I loved Sevastyan. I'd been happy with him, happy to make new friends. He'd basically proposed. Last night I'd been barricaded in a bathroom, all my hopes in ruins. And now my whole life was in turmoil. What did Sevastyan want from me? Did he expect me to contact him--