Before I can ask, he closes the bathroom door.
.*.*.*.
August 13, 2015 2:01 p.m.
It doesn’t take an hour before a crew of twelve men comes storming through the doors of the hotel room. All of them are wearing gray jumpsuits with a patch stating, Rick’s Restoration. They all have a dangerous presence about them, but when I get a look at the man in charge, I don’t feel as in fear for our lives. He is probably around my age and stocky with sandy blond hair and strong shoulders.
Nikolai greets him with a solid, friendly handshake and then exchanges money and conversation.
I sit cross-legged on the bed, watching the scene unfold before me.
Four of the men are in charge of the bodies. They unfurl a giant roll of plastic wrap, making each dead body look like a mummy, binding the ends with industrial tape then placing the bodies in a black plastic bag.
The other men clean the mess. A few of them are using carpet cleaners and cutting out sections of padding then replacing it with new. Others scrub the walls with a potent concoction of cleaner. Each and every surface in the hotel room is scrubbed to shine in a pristine glow. They haul in a couple of large bins on wheels and start heaving dead bodies inside, followed by soiled linens, and finally the biohazard bags. I am in awe.
I walk to Nikolai, standing by his side. When he ignores me, I know he isn’t going to introduce me to the man in charge.
Taking it upon myself, I hold out my hand and say, “Hello, I’m Amelia Night,” using my alias.
The man flashes me a megawatt smile. “Hello, I’m Rick Robinson.”
My own smile grows when I hear him speak in a thick Australian accent. He sounds very suave yet fun. His tanned skin glistens slightly with sweat, but his golden eyes suck me in immediately. They are very friendly and captivating.
“This is quite impressive, Rick. Tell me something …”I start, and Nikolai moves to the side, still keeping me in his sights. His jaw is firm. He wants me to keep my mouth closed, but I refuse. “How are you going to do this without the hotel finding out?”
He chuckles, which warms my soul and puts me at ease.
“Well, that is my little secret. It’s what we do for a living—crime scene restoration and clean up. Only, this time, it’s without notification from the police and kept off the books … if you know what I mean.”
I nod and smile as the men file out with the damning evidence in tow.
Nikolai shakes Rick’s hand one more time then closes the door behind him. He keeps up his brooding act as he goes to the bedroom and grabs his belongings.
“Time to go.”
I walk out behind him, continuing to shed the old Josslyn with every single step as I follow the assassin into the abyss of the criminal unknown.
CHAPTER TWO
Nikolai
August 14, 2015 1:56 a.m.
The interstate is fairly desolate. The night completely absorbed the sky hours ago. The driver’s window is partly open, and the night air swarms inside the car. We have been driving for several hours and are now nearing Las Vegas. We have a long road ahead of us. Russia is so far removed from my comfort zone. I can’t even fathom how much further down the rabbit hole I will end up falling.
Before we had the car summoned from valet parking, I didn’t bother checking out of the hotel. I paid for two nights up front, so we still have another day to be in the room. We strode out of the building like we owned the place, much as we came in. Josslyn was dressed in the same pantsuit she purchased the day before, her hair rolled and tucked firmly at the back of her head. She slid on sunglasses and assumed her role, much as I did mine. No one questioned us, even when we had our bags in our hands and car waiting under the canopy.
Josslyn has a lot to learn as a criminal, but I don’t have the intent on teaching her nor do I have the time. I will give her enough information as she asks. After all, I have found it’s much easier to speak to her rather than ignore her questions altogether. Nevertheless, there are secrets that will be kept.
She assumes she will survive this ordeal and be able to go back to her life as if nothing happened. She also assumes I will be with her when she does, wrists fastened in handcuffs and placed behind bars for the rest of my life. However, there is a very slim chance I will make it out of this alive By some miracle I do, jail will be the last place I go.
I called Stephan before we pulled away from the hotel, hoping he could help me secure a private flight to Russia. Much as I came in, Stephan told me he could get me a flight to Zurich from Las Vegas on Saturday. That is a day’s wait. One day too long before I get to implement the next part of my plan.
Although it would have been a long drive, I had hoped we would leave from New York where I have a simple apartment I keep up for pretenses with my Vincent Black alias. Now I have the problem of getting my car back to my residence, but it wouldn’t be the first car I’ve had to ditch. I guess I shouldn’t worry about my car, anyway. I’m living with the notion that this will be it for me, so there is no sense in getting attached to such things.
The bad thing is, traveling to Zurich will be exhausting, taking the better part of fifteen hours. Then again, the worst part will be being trapped in a plane with Josslyn. She will undoubtedly grill me with questions, making the trip seem very, very long. Although I am impressed with our little trek to Las Vegas so far.
We have been driving over eight hours, and she has barely said two words to me. She has slept most of the way, but for the last hour, she has been looking out the window in deep thought.
Her shoes are off, legs stretched out with her feet resting on the dash. She has her sweatshirt draped around her like a blanket, and her head is back. I have been thankful for the quiet, though being left with my thoughts can be disturbing.
From the moment I met this woman, I have been breaking the rules I have lived by my entire criminal career. My mind circles around that fact over and over.
I blurted out my true identity to a known officer of the law, admitted guilt for killing two men, and brought her along for the ride. When I am not thinking about what I have said, I keep seeing the vision of fucking her on the hood of my car.
Last night was incredible and completely absurd. However, I had to do something to prevent myself from plunging my knife in her throat. She killed Vlad, our only link to Stravinsky at the time, and I was consumed by rage with her stupidity. The pent up frustration of her action and my growing physical attraction were too much to bear. I acted impulsively. Luckily for her, it wasn’t the other alternative.
I have always forbidden myself from having any association with women who are too close to my criminal way of living. Hell, since Mary escaped with my brother, I have been solely fucking high-class hookers and escorts. I didn’t mind paying women to pleasure me because I didn’t need it to be anything more than a business transaction. The only person I was remotely intimate with was Anna, and we didn’t have sex. We only pleasured each other with our mouths. She was comfortable and never asked questions, which were her best attributes. However, when she started to meddle, I killed her.
Out of nowhere, Josslyn trudged her way into my life and turned it awry. She has the uncanny ability to make me forego my rules and abide by new, unfamiliar ones. She is the only person I know who can look deep inside of me and rip out the man who lives there. The desire to kill her marries with the desire to claim her. I don’t understand it.
“What’s in Russia?” Her voice breaks through my rambling mind and almost startles me … almost.
I look over at her. She is still sitting comfortably in the seat; only, she is looking straight at me now. Her blue eyes are inquisitive, once again ripping the details from my mind. I can sense my words forming, ready to be vocalized for her.
“Russia is where Cubby lives. We need to go there to speak to him,” I say simply, hoping that will be enough to appease her. I know better, though. It will only open the floodgate of questions.
“Who’s Cubby?” She pul
ls her feet from the dash and readjusts in the seat, turning herself sideways to fully look at me.
I clench my jaw in agitation, uncomfortable with her scrutiny.
I swallow down the newly formed feelings and reply, “Cubby is the only man I know who’s been freed from the Vory V Zakone and lived. We worked very closely together. If I had to be sent on a job with anyone, I preferred Cubby.”
I hold the smile back when I think of my old acquaintance. Cubby has a past similar to mine. A single mother raised him. She had died when he was a child after she plunged a heroin-filled needle into her arm. She spent her days whoring herself out for drugs while Cubby lay in his bed, crying from starvation. Cubby was very young. No one was there to help him, and there was nowhere for him to go. He was sent to the same orphanage as I was, but I was long gone by then.
We actually met during my first stint in the juvenile detention center. He was angry and looking for an outlet. Stravinsky picked up on that, as he did with me, and Cubby and I were taken under his wing. I didn’t spend too much time with him when we were first involved because of my brother and Stravinsky’s fascination with having identical twins working under him. But, soon after I helped my brother escape, Cubby became a household face amongst Stravinsky’s group of thieves.
“How did he manage to get out?” Josslyn unfastens her hair from the twist and begins running her fingers through the strands. She shakes it out, the smell of her lavender shampoo filtering through the air. It makes me stir with excitement. “I mean, I thought once you’re in, that’s it. Blood in, blood out—”
“That’s exactly right, my dear. If you want to earn the stars on your shoulders and knees, you have to be willing to do what your leader asks, which usually means you’re taking a life. Stravinsky was different, though. Of course, you need to kill, but you need to do it in the manner he demanded.”
“I don’t know why Cubby officially wanted out. Rumors swarmed that it was because he fell in love with the whore he frequented, but that was never shared beyond Stravinsky and him. He was presented with an impossible task. He had to take out an entire Ukrainian crew. It was much like Stravinsky’s at the time. The task would be impossible for some of the best assassins this world has seen, but not for Cubby. He was responsible for killing over twenty men. I had to kill five to be awarded my stars.” My skin twinges above my shoulders where my stars are located. Before I made it to Blythe Harbor, I ran my knife over the ink, Xing across them, denouncing my affiliation with the Vory V Zakone.
“I’m assuming he was successful considering we’re on our way to see him.”
“Yes, and he did it all with one loaded clip.”
Josslyn’s blue eyes widen in shock, her mouth frozen in a stunned line.
“He’s a master assassin. Many of his skills are just as good as or better than mine. He is extremely intelligent, which makes him deadly. He’s a dangerous man, Josslyn. If he doesn’t want to see me, he will kill me—kill both of us.” I look at her with a cold, hard stare.
She has to know this will not be an easy task. Cubby has gone off the map, living in one of the most dangerous places in the world—Chechnya. The situation in the country is unstable. Around every corner, violent crime lurks in the shadows. Between the government and the Chechen guerillas in constant battle, going there undetected will be nearly impossible. However, having a young, beautiful American woman beside me may be worse. I might as well cover our bodies in neon paint because Josslyn will be worth millions on the black market.
“So, why would Victor send you to speak to him if he’s been out for so long? I mean, is this Cubby guy still connected to Stravinsky?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. We have to go there to find out.”
.*.*.*.
August 14, 2015 3:36 a.m.
Our conversation made the last hour pass quickly. One moment, I was staring at a blank road, and when I blink again, the bright lights of Vegas reflect in the distance.
I ease off the highway, preparing to find a quiet, locally owned motel on the outskirts of the city to crash for the night before the long flight to Zurich. I need to assess the wound in my shoulder and possibly put new stiches in it as well.
By the time I pull into a motel parking lot, my arms ache, and my legs itch to stretch. I shut the car off and roll my head around, popping my neck, which helps my aching muscles.
“You know …” Josslyn singsongs as I start exiting the car. Her eyes are locked on the bright lights off in the distance. I turn then tuck my leg back into the car, shutting the door behind me. “It would be nice to do something fun for a change.”
I smirk. “You’re telling me you haven’t had fun the last couple of days?”
“Well, let me give you a recap. Let’s see … I’ve been abducted, beaten, interrogated, and shot at. I’ve become a liar, thief, murderer, and a con artist. All and all, it’s hardly been fun.”
“On the contrary, my dear. You’ve also sought after and executed to fruition a fifteen-year revenge, fended off a man who was trying to kill you, worn fine clothing, and … had sex with yours truly.” I wink at her and smugly flash my smile again.
She is trying to hold her mouth in a firm line, but it’s hard for her to deny, and the corners of her mouth start to rise.
“See? You’ve been having a good time.”
“Speaking of that”—she places her hands in her lap and knots her fingers together—“what was with that, anyway?”
I break my gaze and look out the windshield. The scene around me fades away when I remember the sight of Josslyn’s body bent over the hood of my auto. Her breasts were pushed into the black steel, her curves blending with the curves of the car. Her naked, supple ass posed perfectly as her legs were splayed wide.
My dick twitches and presses against my zipper when the memory of the heat of her body encasing mine consumes it. She had me clenched tightly inside of her. The sensation was unbelievably perfect and scarring. Nevertheless, I need to rid myself of the disconcerting, unknown feelings that seem to always be present when Josslyn and I are alone.
I turn back to her. “It was exactly what it was, my dear—sheer and utter need. A release of tension; that’s all.”
Her eyes flash disappointment for a stark moment then switch back. She puts up the wall to her unabashed inner thoughts. She doesn’t allow too many, if any, men to see what she’s holding on the inside. For a moment, I find that funny. Normally, it would be me who is withdrawn emotionally, not the woman. Yet here we are.
“Fine, but I still want to have some fun. If my demise is right around the corner, then why the hell would I want to stay in another shitty motel and shower with the cockroaches when you are loaded with cash and we are a few miles from luxury hotels on the Vegas strip?”
“Are you considering the Ritz Carlton a shitty hotel?”
“No, that was nice, but I never got to enjoy it. We dressed, slept, and killed our way out of that place. I want to soak in a large bathtub or get a massage. Actually, I really want to get dressed up, blow your money at the tables, and get drunk.” She smiles large, and it’s nearly impossible for me to tell her no.
“As you wish, my dear.” I pull the car away from the motel and head in the direction of the Las Vegas strip, thinking the entire time that this could possibly be a huge mistake.
CHAPTER THREE
Josslyn
August 14, 2015 7:15 p.m.
I can’t believe I’m living in this moment right now. I’m standing in front of the window in our beautiful suite at the Bellagio Hotel, looking at a breathtaking sight. The fountains out front are illuminated as they dance in time to the music. The Eiffel tower of the Paris Hotel glows a bright yellow light, and the backdrop of the hotel gives a small slice of Las Vegas elegance. Pictures or postcards cannot even encapsulate the majesty of light and color. The mountains in the distance glow with hues of purple and amber as the sun begins to tuck itself away for the night. The entire sight is spectacular, and for the briefest o
f moments I can forget why I am really here.
Nikolai spared no expense when getting us the best room the Bellagio had available for the night. When I rode the elevator up and opened the door to the penthouse suite, my jaw fell to the floor. The presidential suite at the Ritz was beautiful, but I really don’t remember what it looked like. I was too involved with our plan, and my new identity was too fresh in my blood. However, now, I have had some time to get connected with my new self and adjust to Nikolai’s lifestyle, and I have to say, in this moment, I am glad I did.
When we walked through the door, my shoes connected with the light marble tile, a floor so pristine my reflection smiled back at me. The space is vast, much bigger than my crappy one-bedroom apartment at home. There is a small half-bathroom off to the left of the main door and a mini bar to the right. You walk straight ahead to the sitting room area with elegant furniture, an excellent view of the strip, and a large flat screen television mounted on the wall.
Aside from the marvelous view, it’s the bathroom that had me smiling. There is a huge soaking bathtub tucked in the corner of the room with an array of fine soaps, lotions, and oils placed on the edge. There is muted lighting surrounding the tub, and it took me all of five minutes to get the water filled and start soaking my body inside.
Nikolai showered while I was submerged in the bubbly heaven. It momentarily felt strange because it seems we have started to become more comfortable with one another. I can’t allow myself to get too relaxed around him, though. I have a mission to complete, and he’s the person who is going to help me get there. But, when it’s all said and done, he will be my prisoner, going to jail for the rest of his life. That detail cannot be forgotten.
Although I was naked, he couldn’t see me hidden under the bubbles. He, on the other hand, had no problem stripping down and getting into the shower. In fact, he’s never had an issue, which I find alarming. I don’t know if he does it because he’s brainwashing me or if he’s really comfortable in his own skin.
Madness (Revenge Series Book 3) Page 2