by Kenya Wright
He caressed my back.
“Could you teach me some Russian?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Hit me with something cool.”
He opened his eyes and stared at me. Something new lingered in his gaze—a warmth I’d never seen in them. The first night I’d met him, they’d been so cold and deadly. Now, an all-consuming warmth filled his pupils.
He whispered in that sexy accent, “Shob tebe deti v sup srali.”
I spent several seconds repeating it. He corrected me a few times. And then on my tenth try, he nodded. “Perfect.”
I lifted my head and smiled at him. “Shob tebe deti v sup srali.”
“Exactly.”
“Awesome. What does it mean?”
“I hope your kids shit in your soup.”
Laughter fled from my mouth. My body rocked. I sat up in the bed. “Really? I wanted some good lines to get to know your country and people, and that’s the phrase you chose?”
“It’s a good line.”
“I need to know something that I’ll be saying a lot to people.”
“Trust me, Emily. You’ll be telling a lot of people that you hope their children shit in their soup.”
I shook my head. “Shob tebe deti v sup srali.”
He winked at me. “Good job, mysh.”
Chapter 21
Maxwell
Someone shook me.
Yawning, I opened my eyes.
A blonde woman with liquid blue eyes stared back at me. “What size are you?”
“What the fuck?”
She backed away, allowing me to drink in more of her. She damn sure was a princess. Looked rich from head to toe. Everything was polished—nails and clothes, shoes and make-up. Flawless. Sexy. Stunning.
“Who are you?” I sat up in the bed. Emily’s Russian wasn’t there, but a bunch of other Russians were, including this woman standing by my bed.
Although she had a light voice, it was heavily laced with an accent. “You’re sleeping beauty and I’m the princess that comes and kisses you awake.”
I cleared my throat. “What?”
She giggled. “You’ll need clothes.”
Another man held a gun and walked around as he scanned my bedroom. He gazed out of my window. “Mr. Maxwell, the plane will leave in two hours.”
“Yes. Yes. But, he needs clothes.” She pouted. “And the plane will leave, when I say.”
“Who are you people?” I slipped my hand under my pillow and gripped my gun.
The man stopped and stared at the pillow that my hand was under. “I don’t know what you’re getting, but you should leave it alone. This is Valentina. Her brother, Kazimir asked her to get you.”
I continued to hold my gun. “For what?”
The man frowned as if I shouldn’t even ask questions, but just do what I’m told. “We’re going to be leaving in an hour.”
I let go of the gun, sat up some more, and leaned my back against the headboard.
The Russian was serious about all of us leaving.
“You’re his sister?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
The big man with her grumbled, “Get up and get dressed. No more questions.”
“Stop being mean, Oleg.” She batted her eyes at him. “He’s our friend.” She turned back to me. “I’ve brought clothes, but I don’t think I have your size.” Valentina studied my arms and smiled. “You’re not a Michael Kors man. You’re a Tom Ford man.”
She continued on about what type of man I was, but I couldn’t tell you a single word she’d said.
She pointed to Oleg. “Go to Barney’s and get some more socks.”
“Your brother wants me next to you at all—”
“Pretend I’m in Barney’s with you.”
“Valentina, that is not how—”
“Kazimir is right next door. How could I not be any safer?”
Oleg frowned. “I will send someone else to get them, Valentina.”
The whole time they went back and forth, I was completely entranced by her mouth and her body. She moved constantly as she talked. Every few seconds, she made hand gestures to punctuate her speech. It made me smile as I thought about tying her hands to my headboard and making her beg me to fuck her. I would sink deep inside her sweet little Russian cunt, pounding into her.
Then, maybe she would reconsider storming into my bedroom and waking me up from a good sleep.
She returned to me and blinked her eyes. “Why are looking at me like that?”
“You’re a beautiful woman in my bedroom. I’m wondering if you’re going to kiss me.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Tell Tommy to get over here with some clothes.”
The man on the right rolled his eyes. A knife had been tattooed through his neck with blood dripping red ink at the tip. “Valentina, we don’t have time—”
“Call him!” she roared.
Silence filled the room. The man with the inked knife pulled out his phone and backed out of the room. Everyone returned their gazes to me.
“Wakey. Wakey.” She clapped her hands and headed out of my room. “Take a shower so you can try on your new clothes.”
“I don’t need new clothes,” I called back.
No response came.
Everyone else left.
An hour later, I was dressed in a designer suit—one that the crazy blonde had picked out. A tailor had finished the stitches right up to the minute Emily’s Russian growled that it was time to leave. He wore a new suit too—sleek and polished from head to toe.
Somehow, Emily had convinced Xavier to come with us. He’d dragged himself out of that abandoned bus, showered in my bathroom, and let the evil blonde wrap him in a red, blue, and white plaid ensemble. A white fur coat went down to his ankles. Xavier even had a cane that he enjoyed twirling.
He looks like a pimp.
Nice and clean, the tattoos of constellations on his head shined bright.
Currently, as we stood at the private gate of the airport, Xavier twirled the cane too close to me.
I turned to him. “Would you stop, X?”
He set the cane’s bottom on the floor and tapped out a beat. “You’ve been grumpy the whole time.”
“You don’t think this shit is crazy? We’re just jumping on a plane with this—”
“We were just cleaning up Emily’s dead men weeks ago. This don’t seem crazy to me. I’m actually glad we have some help on that.”
“Help?” I snorted. “This Russian’s not going to help her. He’s going to use her.”
“Don’t look to the future, young one. You don’t know what the future is going to bring.” Xavier tapped his cane on the ground again. “Just two days ago you didn’t know you would be here. Just stay in the moment. Keep your eyes open.”
“Trust me. I am.” I watched Emily and her Russian walk in, flanked by four huge men. They’d taken the limo behind us. More men marched behind them, and my heart tightened. Usually, we all worked together. Emily never let any other group unite with us. It would just be the originals—Xavier, Kennedy, Darryl, her, and me. Now Russians surrounded us, and I wasn’t quite sure if they were our friends.
I frowned. “Emily looks comfortable.”
Xavier turned my way. “That’s a good thing. She deserves some rest.”
“She took the serial killer thing well.”
“We know who we are, even when we don’t admit it to ourselves.” He tapped his chest. “You can never lie to your insides.”
I sighed. “Are you going to be talking like some fucking ghetto sage the whole trip?”
“Yes. I’m feeling energized.” He adjusted the fur on his shoulder. “This is my destiny. Now it’s all making sense.”
Emily scanned the space and spotted us.
Our gazes met.
She smiled.
My body warmed as I nodded.
She’s still the same Emily.
/> She turned to Kazimir, whispered something, and then left him, heading over to Xavier and me. Her Russian didn’t appear pleased at all from her absence. He gazed the whole time at her as she walked away. Granted, the back of her must’ve been hard not to look at because surely, the front had my cock hard.
“She looks good too.” Xavier tapped a little beat on the floor with his cane. “Go on, Emily.”
Black leather covered her whole body. Fitted pants, not tight, but damn sure not loose. A black leather jacket stopped high on her waist. It had a hood that was trimmed in white fur. For now, it hung on her shoulders.
The heels of her boots clicked toward us. And most of the men stopped the conversation they were involved in to glance her way.
She got to us and filled the space with this sweet perfumed scent.
I had so much to ask and even say to her, but all I could mumble was, “You smell good.”
“Thanks.” She touched my jacket. “You look damn good, Max.”
“I try.”
Her Russian watched us from across the lobby. The blonde talked to him and some other men, but his gaze remained on my and Emily’s exchange.
Fuck him. Get used to it. We rock together.
I looked down at her. “What are we doing, Emily? This is crazy.”
“You have to trust me, Max. I’m still looking out for us. . .like you all looked out for me. Thank you for. . .all that.” She blew out a long breath, got between Xavier and me, and leaned against the wall. “And being truthful, I really don’t know what we’re doing. But, what options do we have?”
Xavier chimed in, “Max said that Jamaicans ransacked your apartment last night.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Kaz and Max killed them. Luka got rid of their bodies.”
“Kaz?” I gave her the side-eye.
She ignored me. “At first, I thought they were there to take my money under the boards, but after I got to see the. . . whole picture. . . Darryl must’ve known that I was still alive, due to the locket.”
She pulled out the heart locket on her chest.
Xavier shook his head. “How could Darryl try to kill you?”
“He thinks I’m a monster.”
“You’re not.” Xavier grabbed her hand.
She gave him a weak smile and moved her hand. “I am, but thanks. Whether those eight guys were rapists before or not, doesn’t help me sleep better. Some of them were fathers and brothers—”
“Is that why you’re running to Russia with Kaz?” I faced her.
“Yes, Max. That’s why I’m running to Russia with Kazimir.” She poked my chest with her finger. “Do you have something to say?”
“I don’t get what’s going on with you two.” I admitted. “You’re acting different.”
“That’s fair, Max.” She shrugged. “I don’t understand why I’m acting different either, but I feel good about my decisions. Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
“We have to be together on this or it won’t work out.” She looked at me and then turned to Xavier. “Life has shown that we need each other. When we hit Russia, we stay together. No secrets between us three.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“This is my vacation.” Xavier twirled his cane. “Let’s not go there and get in more trouble. Enjoy the new culture and people.”
“This isn’t a vacation, X.” She glanced behind me. “Darryl has been working with Kazimir’s brother, Sasha on this whole plan for at least a year.”
Xavier frowned. “That’s after you started killing guys. How do you know your brother has been planning it for that long?”
“Because I got the secret commission to paint the lions a year ago, and it was his brother, Sasha who did it.”
My muscles tightened. “You mean to tell me that Darryl has been playing us for that long?”
“Yeah.” She tapped her heart locket. “So, I hope he knows that I’m alive, and I hope he watches me go to Russia. Soon as I hit the ground, I’m breaking the locket.”
“He won’t know if you’re alive or not. He might think someone has your locket. I’ve got a better idea.” Xavier snatched the chain off her, walked away, and threw it in a janitor’s cart. “I like him thinking you’re dead. This way, it’ll go to a landfill.”
“Fuck it.” Emily grinned. “Meanwhile, we go to Russia and we face whatever we face together.”
She stared at us both. “We remain together. We have each other’s backs, and most of all. . .we don’t keep secrets from each other anymore. No matter how fucked up it could be. No matter how much it would tear up my mind.”
Xavier beat me to the question. “Are you sure about that, Emily?”
“I’m sure.” Her expression turned sad. “I don’t like what I am, but I. . .just. . .just don’t keep that stuff from me. And if I get too dangerous, then—”
“Shut up. We’re not killing you.” I wanted to hug her, but that wasn’t our way. I doubted she could even deal with my hands on her. The few times I did hold her, she kept her eyes closed and never looked at me.
But none of it mattered.
Although I was always attracted to her—she did have breasts—I loved her more like a stepsister. I couldn’t live without her, but I knew there might be a time when we would have to separate.
I looked across at her Russian.
He continued to watch us as others conversed with him.
This one won’t be going anywhere soon.
Some other men walked into the building.
Shit.
“Emily.” I gestured to the newcomers. Most of them had on bland khakis and white shirts, but their blue wind jackets were the most important. On the side, three yellow letters decorated them—F. B. I.
“I’ll be right back.” Emily walked back over to the Russian.
The idiot hadn’t even noticed the FBI walking in. His gaze remained on Emily, studying her hips as she returned to him.
Even more interesting, none of the Russian men appeared nervous about the FBI’s presence either.
What’s going on?
“Keep your eyes open, young one.” Xavier twirled his cane. “Going off with this guy might be the best thing ever.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I kept my voice low. “It looks like we won’t even be getting on the plane.”
Xavier twirled the cane some more. A redhead walked in with a pencil skirt and white shirt. She wore an FBI jacket too. The other FBI guys gave her space as she headed straight to Emily and her Russian.
I glared at them. “I wish they would’ve let me bring my guns.”
“You won’t need your gun on this trip, but when we get to Russia, we’ll figure it out.”
“Why are you so calm right now?” I asked Xavier.
“Just be happy that you’re not the smartest person in the room.”
Chapter 22
Kazimir
Emily talked to Maxwell like any woman would talk to a close and loving friend. Still, tension built in my chest. It was crazy that I couldn’t stop watching her.
Emily smiled at Maxwell, and my tension switched to a little anger. Her smiles were mine. Her every precious glance belonged to me. She just didn’t know that. Granted, I’d just realized it myself as I studied her next to him, not enjoying their closeness. However, I was smart and fully understood I could never control her.
I’ll figure out this Maxwell thing. It shouldn’t bother me that she’s smiling at him. He’s only been like a brother. He’s only ever protected her. . .for me. He just didn’t know it then.
I clenched my fists and gained control of myself. I wouldn’t kill Maxwell, but he’d learn his place soon enough.
The FBI walked in next.
I’d expected them. Valentina stirred. My men turned to me for my order. Seconds later, Emily spotted the agents too. Her face filled with worry.
Little mysh, you still don’t understand who I am? What’s the FBI to me?
Emily walked over.
Every curve moved with lushness under her clothes. Soon, I would have them off and on the plane’s floor. I planned to be deep inside of her as the plane rose to the sky.
She got to my side right as the agents crowded in front of me. “Is everything okay?”
I nodded.
FBI Chief Gloria Stein stood in front of me. “So, you’re alive?”
“Clearly,” I said.
Gloria turned to Emily. “And who is this?”
None of your business.
I smiled. “I’m leaving the country.”
“I see.” She gestured to my sister’s large plane. “And you want permission to leave?”
“Is that what our relationship is?” I wagged my finger at her. “My asking for your permission?”
She frowned. “I want the locations of—”
“You’ll get them, when my party and I are back in Russia.”
“And how do we know that we can trust you?”
“You don’t have a choice.” I held Emily’s hands. “And this conversation is longer than I planned.”
Gloria looked at our locked hands and then back to me. “You’re the one that called me here, Kazimir.”
“I’m adding three people to my protection.” I handed her the list with Emily, Maxwell, and Xavier’s name. “If their names come up for anything under the FBI, you call me directly.”
She opened the paper and then closed it. “Who are these people and what did they—?”
“Have a good afternoon, Gloria.”
I guided Emily away. Everyone in our party followed. My sister had brought many of her people. Most were our cousins that had fought with us for years. And of course, we now had the Harlem Crew—a name that my sister had coined for Xavier, Maxwell, and Emily.
“They’re so adorable.” My sister had clapped her hands. “I’m so glad they’re coming. I want to dress them up. Especially her.”
I held my arms up for the tailor as he fitted me for the third jacket that morning. “Valentina, you’re too excited. They’re not pets or dolls.”
“I know. I know.”
I lowered my arms as the tailor finished measuring. “Don’t bother them.”
“How can I bother them? They’re the Harlem Crew. They’re family.” Then she raised her eyebrows. “Are they family?”