by Tobi Doyle
Adrianna leaned up on her elbows and narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you add the bull underneath the Madonna to prove how stubborn you are?”
I leaned forward and kissed her nose. “No, kotyonok, my last name, Bykov, means bull.”
Her eyes widened, and she blinked once and then smiled. “Toro is Spanish for bull.”
Impossible. We were meant for each other. I hugged her close. “It was kismet.”
She nestled against me, settling, but I could sense her thinking. “Who is Dima’s family to you?” she asked.
“His uncle Lev is the head of the Bratva here.” I tilted my head to look at her. “You know this word?”
“I googled your restaurant and his family connections came up. Are you part of that?” Her pupils contracted, fear that she’d married a bigger monster than me.
“No, kotyonok, and Dima wishes he wasn’t a part of it either.” I caressed the curves of her back, over her hip, and up, the motion soothing me. “He is a brother to me. He would protect me over them, and that is why he’s worried for you.”
She rolled up onto her elbows. “For me? Why?”
“His uncle wants you and he won’t tell Dima why. Lev is not a good man.” I kept my tone calm, but inside I wanted to snatch her away from here and hide her until it was over. “I think it would be helpful if Dima knew what Herndon had hidden. I think that’s why his uncle wants you.”
She said nothing and rested her head on my chest. I’d expected her to retreat, or push me away. Instead, her welcoming embrace comforted me, soothed my anger, dissipated my self-loathing. I didn’t deserve her. But I wouldn’t let her go. And I would keep her safe. “I’m not sure that’s all there is,” she murmured against my chest. “I think, maybe, Herndon wasn’t prosecuting cases for money. Maybe that’s what his uncle is looking for…” She leaned up. “There’s only the car video on the flash drive. But if he made that, he may have made others. Maybe his uncle thinks Herndon gave me the proof. Proof that he’d paid to have cases not be prosecuted.” She leaned on her elbow and looked at me. “But Herndon wouldn’t do that, would he? Because it proves that he’s just as crooked.”
“True. Tell me what do you want to do with the video.” I kept my voice low, like a secret shared in the quiet of our home.
She drew in a breath, the movement crushing her breast on my chest.
“I want to make sure the driver gets prosecuted. That case has been in the news for months. That night my car was broken into Dima said I had something someone wanted. I’m worried I’ll give the video to a corrupt police officer who’ll make it disappear.”
“Dima would know who would use the video,“ I said.
But her face pinched and she shook her head.
“Why don’t you give the video to the family in the minivan, or their lawyer?” I brushed her hair away from her face.
“How do we make sure it gets to the family, the Kolchak’s? And why hasn’t the lawyer made a stink about the missing video? Doesn’t it look like it’s from a traffic camera? Surely the lawyer realizes there was a camera.” She brushed my hair back from my face.
The simple gesture made warmed my heart. “Perhaps.” I kissed her hand. “I’ll drive by the location and see if the camera is there. Maybe Robertson pulled it down.”
She wrinkled her nose. “In front of the emergency vehicles? And then wouldn’t the guys who take care of the cameras realize the camera was missing?” She patted my chest, like I was an illogical child. “It doesn’t make sense. I think someone erased it after making a copy. Before we do anything, I want to research the lawyer, read about the accident, see if I can find who will use the video.” She put her chin on my chest, and her breasts pressed against my chest. It felt good. Amazing.
My cock hardened, alert and ready. I kissed her forehead, and caressed her, and told my cock to be patient. “I want to help.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, and I felt like a god again.
“Can you trust me enough to tell Dima only about the video, but not that you have it?”
“Yes.”
“Adrianna.” I cupped her face. “You will not regret your decision.”
“No.” She hushed out the word, a strange look crossed over her face.
Had I pushed too hard? Was I too intense? Fuck. Next I would be passing her a note, do you like me? Check yes or no.
Chapter Twenty-One
I didn’t regret my decision to marry Alyosha. Regret was a useless emotion.
Alyosha’s eyes burned golden and he searched my face for answers.
I smoothed the wrinkles on his forehead with my thumb. “Knowing Herndon is gone and he’ll never talk to me, touch me, look at me, or hide in my garage ever again is a precious gift.”
He rewarded me with a warm smile and kissed my palm. “I am glad.”
“Can you tell me why you were there to talk to Herndon?” I snuggled against him, becoming addicted to his warmth and woodsy scent.
He traced circles on my back. “A woman who works for my friend, Vanya, worried for her daughter. She was raped by a police officer who worked at her high school and Herndon refused to prosecute the man. Every day the girl had to go to school and face her rapist.”
I swallowed, knowing how the girl felt shame, fear, guilt, anger, and completely powerless. “Why didn’t Herndon prosecute?”
Alyosha grunted, his fingers stilled. “I suppose Herndon exchanged favors with Moe Robertson and probably others. It makes the most sense since Robertson is running for senator and his son is responsible for a hit and run accident. If his son had stayed at the scene of the crime, I’m sure Robertson could weather the situation. But now…” Alyosha finger combed my hair and wrapped a strand around his finger. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Herndon wanted a position in Robertson’s office when he was elected. He probably held onto the video as insurance that Robertson would follow-through.”
“You think Robertson knows about the video and thinks I have it?” I leaned on my elbows and met his gaze.
“I do.” He kissed my forehead, breaking eye contact. “And I think something else is going on, too. Dima is concerned…” He searched the ceiling, like the perfect word was tucked into the recessed lighting. “His uncle has been more ruthless than usual. If Robertson contacted his uncle for information,” Alyosha held me tighter and tucked me under his chin, “it would put Dima in a difficult position.”
“He’d have to choose between you or his family,” I whispered like saying it louder would make the problem more real.
Alyosha released a long sigh. “He doesn’t like his uncle, but disobeying a direct command may have immediate consequences.”
Consequences? “Would his uncle kill him?”
“Not personally, no,” Alyosha’s dry tone made my skin prickle.
“Dima may be forced to choose between his uncle or you. And you may have to choose between Dima and me.” I pushed up, threw my legs over the bed and stood completely naked. I faced him. “I would choose Elena over you. I understand if you–”
He bolted from the bed and wrapped me in his arms. “I choose you.” His vehemence soothed my apprehension. “We will figure this out. Know this, Dima would never harm a woman. We’ve seen too much, done horrible things. There’s a part of me, of us, that will never come back. The only thing that kept us together was the promise that we’d escape and atone.”
Atone. A strong word that held guilt and remorse and proof Alyosha had not lost his humanity. I rested against his chest and his heart thumped a gentle reminder he was mortal and not the god-like man I’d first wished for. “You need to forgive yourself.”
“You don’t understand.” Sorrow bled into his words.
I didn’t know what Alyosha had done as a soldier, but I wanted to comfort the man now in my arms. This man filled with integrity had earned a second chance at life. I kissed his chest. “I understand there is evil in the world. You left Russia for a new life and you’ve proven that you’re a good man. You hav
e to let go of the past that haunts you.” Elena would slap a journal in his hand and make him ‘fix his shit’.
“I have my doubts. A good man wouldn’t wish for more time to make Herndon suffer.”
“You’re talking about vengeance. It’s pure emotion and it doesn’t help anyone. What you’ve given me is peace. I can go to work and know Herndon’s not waiting for me.”
Alyosha cradled me in his arms and rocked me side to side. “But someone else is. You’re still not safe, kotyonok.” He kissed my forehead again.
I attempted a careless shrug, but I was pretty sure it came off like a nervous twitch. “Right, Robertson, corrupt police, and Dima’s uncle.” I stopped. “Dima’s uncle is more ruthless, how?”
“I can’t say.” He stilled. “I don’t know.” He watched me like I might sting him. “Dima doesn’t tell me everything.” The answer seemed honest, but his eyes had hard edges.
“Maybe Dima’s uncle is behind all of this, and he’s the one pulling Robertson’s and even Herndon’s strings.”
Alyosha’s eyes widened. He nodded slowly. “Maybe. Herndon wouldn’t tell us anything. He was more scared of whoever he was protecting than dying.” He pushed his hair back from his face. “I will ask Dima if he agrees with you.”
I believed him.
I trusted him.
Maybe I was a fool.
Alyosha stepped back and stretched his gloriously naked body. Muscles rippled making his tattoos come alive.
I openly ogled. I was a very lucky woman.
He pushed his fingers through his hair, combing it back, hiding his expression behind his hands. Then, he reached for me. He pulled me toward the bathroom and turned on the shower. “The last time Dima openly disagreed with Bratva politics he was forced to become the enforcer.” Alyosha adjusted the water temperature. “For Dima, it is like being back in Spetsnatz, given orders to follow with no understanding of why.” Alyosha smirked. “Dima does not like not having control.”
“Could he leave?” Why didn’t he leave? But then, why hadn’t my mother left?
“He could, but then who would stop his uncle?” Alyosha’s bitter tone swept against me.
Dima worried about his uncle’s victims. Maybe I could trust Dima.
I stepped into the shower and tilted my head back into the stream of warm water. “Do you think Dima could stop his uncle?” And would he want to be the head of a crime family in San Francisco or end it?
Alyosha closed the shower door and stood in front of me. He placed kisses from my jaw to my breast. “Yes. Fuck. You are so beautiful.” His desperate tone ended the conversation.
His gentle kisses, whispered words, and tender touches made me feel cherished. And I tried to tell him with my actions that I wanted him as he was. I wanted to make us real. More than just for protection, a real marriage. But maybe I was the only one caught up in these school-girl emotions. I didn’t truly know him. I trusted him, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy.
Later, he drove me to work. He gripped the steering wheel as we neared the salon. “You don’t have to work.” He sounded grumpy.
Guilt and panic swirled through me. Because after he left, I’d still have bills and I’d have lost all my clients. I gripped his thigh. “I need to work. I enjoy my clients. Well, most of them.” I patted his thigh, and smoothed the pants fabric.
He nodded. “I’ll talk to Finowitz today and have him work on your father’s probate.” He parked in front of the salon.
“That could possibly the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” I kissed him chastely on his cheek and hopped out of the car.
“You make marriage easy, kotyonok.” My husband winked at me. Winked!
I closed the car door and firmed up my knees because otherwise I’d swoon.
Kendra opened the salon door. “Did you just carpool with Mr. Dangerous?”
I grinned. “I did.”
She checked me out from head-to-toe. “And apparently he has a miraculous cure because you look much better than you did yesterday.”
I was safe from Herndon, but I couldn’t tell Kendra that. “He texted me last night and came by and one thing led to another…” and a marriage. I’d forgotten to ask Alyosha if I could tell people we were married. Maybe it would be better to admit we were dating and slide the marriage thing in later. I pushed my purse into my cubby, sliding my ring off my finger and tucking it into my purse.
“That’s the best kind of ‘another’,” Kendra said with a saucy smile.
Haley called all my cancellations from yesterday and worked a few into my day. It was hectic and crazy and just what I needed to keep my mind off all things dark and scary.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You look like shit. Trying to blend in with the homeless?” I closed Dima’s office door and pushed Vanya aside. He’d stuffed a baseball cap over his hair, and he hadn’t shaved or slept in a long while. His jeans had grease around the cuffs and a putrid odor surrounded him. I stepped further away, but stopped at the sight of Dima’s black eye, bloodied t-shirt, and dark shadows under his eyes.
“What did I miss?” I sat down in the chair across from Dima’s desk.
Vanya stood, most likely trying to keep the filth off the furniture.
“I had a guest at the warehouse last night,” Dima said. “What did Adrianna tell you?”
I told them about the pictures of her undressing on Herndon’s computer that the police found. “He stalked her. Morris, a new detective on the case, made it sound like the two were seeing each other, like this was some kind of role-play.” I nodded to Dima. “She needed to know he was never returning.”
Vanya moved to stand near Dima, but not too close.
Dima’s nose wrinkled and he opened a drawer and pulled out the whiskey bottle. He unscrewed the lid and breathed in the scent. He poured some across his fingers and brushed it under his nose and then offered the bottle to Vanya. Dima sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin. “Was that all?”
“No. Robertson Junior is responsible for the hit-and-run accident that killed the mother and child last month.” I took the bottle from Vanya and painted my upper lip in whiskey to cover Vanya’s stench. I set the bottle on Dima’s desk.
“Does she have proof?” Dima’s voice was low and dangerous.
“I can’t say.” I raised an eyebrow allowing Dima to come to his own conclusions. Technically, I kept my promise to Adrianna, but still it felt wrong. “What happened last night?”
Vanya cursed under his breath. He pulled his ball cap off, combed his hair back and settled the cap back on his head. “You fill him in. I’m going to get a shower.”
“Use the locker room. The girls won’t mind.” Dima’s lips twitched. “I doubt they’ll join you this time.
Vanya picked up his backpack and grunted. “I’m going to have to burn the clothes.” He kicked his foot out and stared at his boots. “I just broke these in, too.” He closed the door after him.
I opened the door and fanned fresh air into the room a few times.
Dima light a cigarette. He blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “Someone attempted to break into the warehouse last night.” A smile flashed across his face. “They triggered my security.”
I sat across from him. “Which one?” He’d set up a shot gun facing the window, and had high voltage running through the door latch.
“The door latch. He was still twitching when I got there.” Dima studied the lit end of his cigarette. “It was one of Grigori’s men.” His gaze flicked to me. “If Adrianna had proof, what would she want to do with it?”
“She’d want Junior to take responsibility. Finding an incorruptible cop may prove difficult.” I leaned forward. “The cop who stopped her, and then gave her the fix-it ticket, Thompson, did you find out who he works for?”
“Not exactly.” Dima inhaled, savored the cigarette, and then blew the smoke out above his head. “Marcella met him last night at a cop bar and he brought her back to
his place.” He tapped another cigarette out of his pack and lit it with the end of the one in his mouth. Too early for whiskey, he was medicating himself with nicotine.
I pictured the dark beauty, Marcella, a dancer at the club, and a sadistic dominatrix. She enjoyed doing favors for Dima.
“Thompson has a nasty cocaine habit and a cop’s salary. He also enjoys being spanked.” Dima eyes said, it takes all kinds. “They have another date this week. She likes him.” He shrugged one shoulder. “He was supposed to call for backup but he changed his mind. Probably didn’t want a witness.”
“He probably was supposed to call another cop. With drug dogs.” It would be easy, and Adrianna would be arrested. “Adrianna would be in the system, no lawyer to get her out.”
The cigarette dangled from Dima’s mouth, bobbing with the nod of his head.
“Is your uncle behind all of this?”
The door opened and Vanya stepped inside, smelling of soap. He wore clean gym clothes, his hair slicked back, but the scruff on his face made him look older and tired.
He slumped down onto the couch and then pulled his legs up and laid down. “Wake me if you need me.” His voice was muffled by his meaty arm covering his face.
I turned back to Dima who studied me like I was a puzzle he needed to solve.
“This stays between us.” A statement from Dima.
A secret from Adrianna. A secret from Dima. This did not bode well. “I promise.”
Vanya sat, scrubbing his face in an attempt to appear alert.
“Lev wanted to expand his distribution and territory. We’d already made an agreement with the Triads and a truce with the Mexican Mafia. However, a Mexican Captain, Alvarez, was found floating in the estuary. If I was setting someone up, I’d stash Triad-manufactured drugs in their car and add the gun used in an assassination of Alvarez. It’d piss off three, now rival, gangs. Plus, whoever goes down for this is going to die their first night in lockup. Since Adrianna was not pulled over and the evidence not discovered, I believe Lev sent someone to retrieve them from the warehouse.” He crushed out his cigarette. “Assuming Lev paid Herndon off and avoided prosecution, he’s got to be nervous now that someone else is going through Herndon’s files. Bratva will be blamed for the breakdown of the truce. Lev will go to jail and will have no support from family.” He leaned back in his chair. “He’s a dead man, unless he can push the blame to someone else.”