Under His Ink

by Maya Hughes

  I’d give her space with eyes on her. A little bit of time to come to terms with things, and then I’d go to her. Let her know that I would spend the rest of my life being the man she needed me to be. I’d figure out the stuff with Alexei and Elena later. I couldn’t breathe without her. Could barely think straight. I wouldn’t make it the rest of my life without her, and I didn’t plan on it.

  20

  Dahlia

  It was like I was walking underwater. The minute I woke up in Ivan’s arms, I’d been so happy. For a split second I’d relished the feel of his arms wrapped around me, and then it all came flooding back. My stomach had lurched, and I knew I needed to get out of there. I needed to leave before he woke up.

  I made it to the apartment and went through the motions. I was staring at the flower box in the window. So many colorful peonies. Rachel did an amazing job with them, and I had no idea how she’d kept them alive so far into winter. She had a magic touch. One that brought life to things that should have died a long time ago. I wrapped my hands around my mug, nursing my spiked coffee. My nerves were a mess. All over the place.

  Rachel burst into the apartment, more flushed than she usually was. She jumped when she saw me on the couch. There were tears in her eyes.

  I hopped up from the couch, and she ducked her head.

  “Rach, what’s wrong?”

  She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I got fired,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “What? Why? How?”

  “Killian,” she said it like it was supposed to mean something to me.

  “What about him?”

  “He got me fired.” She glanced around the apartment like she was looking for a way out. Like suddenly this place was the last place she wanted to be.

  “How did he get you fired?”

  “Because, Dahlia,” she said, her voice cracking, “he was the guy who was trying to bring down my boss. I was supposed to be finding him to help stop him. Instead I slept with him. I thought I meant something to him. I was so stupid.”

  My brain struggled to process all this information. Killian was the guy who was trying to destroy her boss. I was impressed. I didn’t think she had it in her.

  “Rach, it’ll be okay. I promise you. You are not the first person to ever get fired.”

  “It’s not about that. I let him use me.” She broke down in tears, and I raced to her, wrapping my arms around her. I hugged her and patted her on her back, my rage kicking into high gear. I would be out for blood the next time I saw Killian.

  “Do you want me to go kill him?” I loved how that was my first response. Kill him. Reminded me of Ivan. Maybe we had a lot more in common than I thought.

  “No, I appreciate it, but no. I need to go.”

  “Go where?”

  She let go of me and glanced around the apartment. I didn’t know what she was looking for.

  “I’m going home.” She disappeared into her room and came back with nothing but her purse slung over her shoulder. In her hand she had a check. She pressed it into my palm and hugged me, squeezing me like she was trying to crack a rib.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s the rent for the rest of the year.”

  “You’re not coming back?” The check crinkled in my hand as I clenched my fist. My mind raced trying to piece together what happened.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know.” She shook her head. “But I know I can’t be here right now. I don’t know what I’ll do if he shows up here. And that’s a big if. I was a means to an end, and he got exactly what he wanted. I was just a bonus.” Her eyes were watery, and she brushed away the tears that escaped from her eyes. My heart ached for her. I knew what it was like when things went wrong with someone you loved.

  “I’m sure he’ll show up. And when he does, he’s in for one hell of a shock.”

  She let out a watery laugh. “I’d stay just to see that.”

  “Stay. Don’t go. Don’t let him run you out of town.”

  “No, I need to go. I haven’t been home in a while, and I…my parents were right. This was a mistake. All a mistake.” She glanced around the apartment like she was looking at a horror come to life. The one she’d decked out in every beautiful bit of home decor. It looked like one of those apartments you saw in a magazine.

  I’d thought she was happy here. A part of me cracked at how she looked around the room. This was our apartment. We’d had so many good times together, and she looked at it like it might as well have had padded walls and a matching set of straitjackets.

  I tried not to take it personally. She must have seen the look on my face.

  “Not you, Dahlia. Never you. You’ve been the best thing about my adventure.” She talked about her year in the city like it was an excursion to an unknown planet, but for her it probably was. “Promise me you’ll visit. I’ll send you a ticket.”

  “I’m booked solid for almost a year.” Her already sad face fell even further. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She gave me a half smile before looking around the apartment one more time. Her phone was in her hand. “I’ve got to go. The plane is ready.”

  “You bought your ticket already? What time is your flight?”

  “Something like that. And whenever I get there.”

  She squeezed me one more time before rushing out of the apartment. The door slammed shut behind her, and I stood in the middle of the room alone. My one friend in the whole city other than the guys I worked with was gone now.

  Things were quieter than I liked. Staring at my phone, I’d will him to contact me or get up the nerve to scroll to his name, but never start the call. I didn’t know what plans he was putting in place for whatever was going on, but my worry increased day by day. With Rachel and Ivan gone, I found myself drifting.

  I went in to work aware that someone was probably watching me as I made the final steps into my shop. The days dragged on as I worked with my clients and came home to an empty apartment. No more late-night sessions with Ivan. No more Chinese food and ’80s movies with Rachel.

  There was a loud thump on my door. I glanced through the peephole and gritted my teeth. Of all the people I didn’t want to see, of course it would be him. The minute I opened the door, he tried to take a step inside. I blocked him with my body.

  “What do you want?” I asked, practically grinding my teeth.

  “I’m here to see Rachel.” Like he had any right to just show up here like this. I wanted to punch him so badly.

  “She’s gone,” I said, my phone vibrating on the counter. I glanced behind me.

  “Then I’ll wait,” he said, like I was going to invite him in for some tea.

  “You’re going to be waiting a long time because she’s not here.”

  “Dahlia, if you just let me speak to her. Let me explain. I can…I can explain it to her.”

  “You can’t explain anything to her because she’s not here,” I said, enunciating every word. Maybe he was having trouble understanding me.

  He glared at me and shouldered his way into the apartment.

  “Hey,” I said as he made it past me. “I said she’s gone,” I ground out.

  “If she’s gone, then why is all her stuff here?” he said, the anger palpable in his voice. Good, he should be angry. Angry at himself for fucking things up so royally and losing me my best friend.

  “Because she left it. She gave me a check for the rest of the lease and took her purse and left. Said she needed to get out of here fast. I’m guessing that has something to do with you,” I said, my arms crossed over my chest. Giving him a chance to lie to me. To tell me that it had nothing to do with him.

  “She left everything?” He raced down the short hallway and into her room. I just let him. Better for him to see it for himself. Maybe then he could figure out how the hell he was going to fix it. He wandered out of the room in a daze. Yeah, I knew just how that felt.

  “I told you. She’s gone. Best friend I’ve ever had, and you
chased her out of the fucking city,” I said, my voice wobbling. I’d tried to pretend like we were just roommates, but we were better friends than I’d had, pretty much ever. The edges of sadness crept in, bleeding through my anger at him. Maybe if I’d told her how much I needed her, she wouldn’t have left.

  “I’m sorry, Dahlia. I’m more sorry than you can know. If…if she gets in touch with you, can you just let her know I’m sorry and I’d like to talk to her?”

  “Get out,” I said, stabbing my finger at the front door. He needed to fix it. His shoulders slumped as he made his way to the door, closing it quietly behind him. The click of the lock only highlighted the silence of the apartment. The loneliness.

  Who was I to talk? My own life was falling apart around me when things should be so good. I’d gotten a call from the gallery. It seemed that our disturbance at the opening hadn’t put a damper on the interest in my work. Some people were even asking if they could buy some of the prints. I’d have to check with my clients, which included Ivan, to figure it out, but it should have sent me over the moon. Instead I was sitting in my living room, staring at the walls, trying to force myself to get up and do something. Anything.

  I’d probably lost Ivan. What if his uncle turned on him, and he hadn’t been able to go through with his plan, whatever the hell it was?

  It was something I hadn’t wanted to face for a long time. Something I’d put in the back of my mind. Since he’d popped back into my life, we’d never gone this long without any contact. Without a word from him. And where did that leave me if something happened to him. How would I even know? And would someone be after me next?

  There was another knock that seemed to rattle the wall, and I threw the door open without even looking. In front of me was the man who haunted my dreams and my nightmares.

  I didn’t want these emotions anymore. I didn’t want to think about any of this anymore. I just wanted to feel. I didn’t even care if I looked like a mess. His lips were like a siren’s call. He stared down at me, his breath coming out deep and heavy, rumbling in his chest.

  His unshaven jaw was tight with worry or anger, I didn’t know which. I didn’t care. I reached up and ran my hand along his cheek. He mirrored my movement and ran his hand along mine. Cupping his hand on the back of my neck, he tugged me toward him and swallowed me up. I was drinking from him, trying to wash away every other kiss I’d experienced. Knowing that they were all compared to him anyway.

  I needed this. I needed him. My body was ready for him, and I was, for once, in complete agreement. He trailed his hands down my back, squeezing me even tighter against him. My core clenched as his tongue took possession of my mouth, and he stopped only long enough to nip my lip before laving it with his sweet lips.

  He lifted me, putting his hands under my ass, and pressed my back into the wall. I hooked my legs along his hip, my skirt hiking up as he ground himself against me. Without a word or taking a breath, he undid his jeans and pulled out his cock. He slid my panties to the side and sank into me in one smooth motion, knocking the air from my lungs as I screamed into his mouth.

  “Yes,” I called out, ripping my lips from his as he split me open.

  “Fuck,” he ground out through clenched teeth. The heightened emotions unraveled me, and I came in seconds, my thighs trembling around his waist. I broke apart and tried to piece myself back together.

  He came seconds after me, slamming into me as I rode out the last of his tremors. Resting his head against mine, his knees dipped, and he pressed me harder into the wall to steady himself.

  Ivan carried me to my room and laid me on the bed. He dragged the sheets down and tucked me under them before crawling in beside me and pulling me to his chest. The heaviness in my heart lightened enough that I could finally breathe again.

  “What happens now?” I said, leaning back so I could see his face. He stared off into the distance before he glanced down at me.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “How, Ivan? He is just as dangerous now as he was then, even more so. He’s a murderer.”

  “So am I.”

  A shiver ran down my spine, and my stomach nearly revolted again. He was. He’d done unspeakable things, and I’d let him in. I’d given him a piece of my heart I knew I’d never get back.

  I was in love with the man with a dark past. I was trying to help him overcome it, just like Ivan was trying to help me overcome mine. But no one from my past could kill me at the snap of a finger. How could he protect me against a threat that nearly destroyed us already?

  21

  Ivan

  My nights with Dahlia were never long enough. I’d never hated the rising sun as much as I did then. I’d also never get used to having her in my arms. It felt familiar and foreign at the same time. In some ways I never wanted to get used to it, so that the feelings that welled up inside of me when I looked at her would never go away.

  Sitting at the kitchen counter of her quaint little apartment while she made me breakfast was like being transported into a different life. A life where we met at a party or in classes at college, and I finally managed to win her over and spend the night. Her place was so bright and cheerful. Knickknacks everywhere. None of this screamed Dahlia, but she seemed to fit here.

  She must have seen me glancing around.

  “My roommate decorated the place.” She smiled at me and slid the bacon and eggs onto my plate. “She had a thing about making this place into the perfect twentysomething apartment. Like she’s gone through every sitcom where people lived in an apartment there’d be no way they could actually afford, and decided to imitate it perfectly.”

  “She was successful.” I grabbed my fork, rolling the cool metal between my fingers. Dahlia loaded up her plate and sat beside me at the counter. We sat in silence, devouring our food in record time. The silence wasn’t awkward this time. It was the silence of two people who didn’t need words. The words would come. They always did, but they wouldn’t be easy words.

  I picked up our plates and set them in the sink.

  “What happens now?” she said from behind me.

  “I don’t know. It’s not safe for you out there.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Go into hiding? Run away from the life I’ve built?”

  “I think going somewhere else for a while would be a good idea.”

  “I’m not going to let your uncle run my life any more than he has already, Ivan.”

  “Would you rather be dead?”

  “I’d rather not have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. How do you suggest I do that?”

  I ran my hand over my forehead, pressing my fingers into the bridge of my nose. “I’ll figure something out.”

  We stayed in the apartment all day. I wouldn’t let her leave until after the shop closed, to get a few things she needed if she was going to stay away for a while. Her clients would have to understand.

  “Some of these people have been waiting months. They’ve bought flights out here to see me to get these tattoos,” she said as we walked to the shop.

  “I understand, but this is the only option I can think of right now. You go through the front. I’ll make sure you get in okay, and I’ll head around back.”

  I went first, slipping into the back alley while Dahlia went around the block and into the front entrance. The streets were deserted except for one black sedan. No one was in it. Luca’s guys weren’t here, which meant Sergei’s weren’t here either. Luca’s guys had been good with keeping an eye on things for me. I’d owe Luca more than he knew, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that.

  The back door of the shop that led into Dahlia’s studio wasn’t locked. I stepped through the door, my fear spiking until I saw her stroll in, spinning her keys on the key ring.

  “Dahlia. Is that door ever unlocked?” I asked, pointing to the door behind me.

  I stood there, waiting for her response, when an acrid smell sliced through the air. The hairs on the back of my neck
stood on end, and I grabbed her around the waist, dragging her out into the alley behind the shop.

  “Ivan, what the hell?! Get off!” she screamed. I raced as far as I could go, making it almost to the street when a blast ripped through the building, flinging the back door to the shop off the hinges. The brick dug into my palms as I pressed myself as tightly against her as I could, shielding her from shrapnel or debris.

  Her hands that had been pushing me away fisted my shirt. Her body trembled beneath mine as I pinned her to the wall. I glanced around. A black sedan with black tinted windows rolled past the alley. We were obscured by smoke from the blast. It seemed I hadn’t been as stealthy as I’d thought. I shouldn’t have let my guard down. My stupidity had once again put her at risk.

  As the heat from the fire grew, I pushed myself off Dahlia and checked her over. I took one step out of the alley, and a revving engine raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Dahlia was hacking and coughing behind me when I pushed her back against the wall. The headlights of the sedan flooded the smoky, dark alley. I reached to my back and pulled out the gun I had stashed there.

  “Ivan, what’s happening?” Dahlia asked, trying to look around me. I put my arm behind myself and pressed her hard against the wall as I trained my gun on the black car in front of us. Stepping backward, I tried to shield her as much as I could. The car came barreling toward us, and I let off three shots. Dahlia screamed from behind me and crouched down.

  The bullets shot through the windshield, but the car kept coming. The passenger window was rolled down, and the bright flash of muzzle flare gave me a perfect target. I took a breath and squeezed the trigger, letting off another round. The passenger, dressed all in black, slumped out of the passenger-side window. And then I trained my gun on the driver side. I let off four more shots. The car kept coming, but not directed at us anymore. The alley was filling with even more smoke, and it was hard to breathe. I plucked Dahlia up off the ground and squeezed us as tightly against the brick wall as I could as the car continued down the alley before slamming into the dumpsters and chain-link fence at the end of the alley.