“God, you’re an ass. I wasn’t expecting us to start dating. I knew it was one-time deal. If you had just been nice about it, I never would’ve spit in your coffee. We could have been grown-ups about the whole damn thing.”
“I was nice about it. I gave you several orgasms and then sent you on your way.”
“But the way you did it wasn’t nice!” I growled.
“You’re saying you didn’t enjoy the orgasms?” his voice was laced with humor.
“That’s not what I’m saying. They were very nice. But feeling hadn’t even returned to my legs before you were all ‘you can go now’.” I did my best impression of his low, growly, indifferent voice.
“Thank you.”
“Why the hell are you thanking me?”
“You said I fucked you so good you couldn’t feel your legs. That’s a compliment. I’m thanking you. Hell, pet, even when I’m nice, you’re full of attitude.”
I let out an aggravated groan. “You’re missing the point entirely, but of course that would be the only thing you take away from that, because your ego is too big for an actual brain to fit in your head.”
“Then what’s the point of all this, pet?” He was humoring me.
“The way you dismissed me, and the way you’ve looked at me and talked to me ever since makes me feel shitty. And I don’t know what I did to deserve it. That’s why I’ll keep spitting in your coffee and pouring coffee grounds in it.”
“How do I fucking look at you Cassie?” All humor was gone. There was nothing but irritation in his voice.
“Like you’re disgusted with yourself for ever touching me,” I said in an almost whisper, because it fucking sucked to say it out loud.
It grew quiet again. I could hear him breathing, but that was it.
“Just forget it,” I mumbled. “Go to bed.”
“Cassie,” he stopped me from hanging up. “You don’t disgust me. You never did. You weren’t a convenience fuck that night. I didn’t want just any girl, I wanted you, even though I knew better. I was drunk enough not to listen to myself. I know I was an asshole afterward. I was pissed at myself for hooking up with you. And yeah, maybe I had already made up my mind not to like you, because I was judging you based on what I thought I knew about you. I thought . . . you were just too young, too immature. You seemed irresponsible and full of yourself, and like you didn’t take anything seriously. You seemed shallow and wild and reckless, and if I’m being completely honest, I might have even thought if you’d been more careful, been more mature, and used better judgement you might not have ended up with–”
“Please don’t say his name,” I whispered.
He said nothing again and I just sat there on the edge of my bed, head hung, feeling about the smallest I’d ever felt. “Thank you for finally being honest with me.”
“But you’re not who I thought you were, Cassie.”
I lifted my head a little. “What do you mean?”
“I’m saying I was wrong. I had you pegged before we even met and that was unfair, because you’re not those things. Maybe some of them a little, because you are young, but being young isn’t a crime, and neither is falling in love with the wrong guy.”
“If I’m not who you thought I was, then who am I?” I didn’t know if I was asking because I just wanted to hear what he thought about me now, or if I was looking for someone to tell me who I was, because I desperately wanted to know.
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” he said quietly.
“Me neither.”
Neither one of us said anything, and then I said, “Goodnight, Nikolai.”
“Goodnight, Cassie.”
I stared at the screen of my phone until he ended the call and it blacked out, plunging my room into total dark. I set it on the night stand and curled onto my side, hugging my body pillow to my chest tightly, like a child clinging to their favorite stuffed animal in the dark for comfort and to keep the nightmares away once they closed their eyes. I still had nightmares sometimes. About him. It wasn’t always the same dream, but it always ended with me waking in a cold sweat and tears running down my cheeks.
Tonight, I was afraid to close my eyes and chance seeing him in my sleep. Today was the first day in a long time that I’d talked about him with someone. I’d never admitted to loving he-who-will-not-be-named to anyone before today.
As feared, my dreams were anything but peaceful and my sleep hardly restful. I tossed and turned all night, waking several times, unable to recall exactly what I had been dreaming about moments before, but left with fuzzy images in my mind of a dark room and faces and this unsettled feeling in my gut. The chime of my alarm the next morning dragged me from the fitful sleep, my dreams still vague and fractured pictures. They slipped further and further away from me the harder I tried to bring them into focus. I felt anxious and unable to shake it. I snoozed my alarm and lay there for several minutes, eyes shut, focusing on breathing in and out, shutting out all the noise in my head.
When the alarm on my phone went off the second time, I groaned but dragged myself up. If anything, I felt more tired than I had before I’d gone to sleep. It was only as I glanced at my phone and thought back to my conversation with Nikolai last night, that I remembered I’d also spoken to Nora. I didn’t have to go to work this morning. Which meant I didn’t have to be up. I had the next three days to myself because Friday and Saturday were my scheduled days off this week.
I flopped back down on the bed and almost as soon as my head smacked the pillow, I was out again. Grandmama, and not my phone, woke me up the second time.
“Get up, you can’t sleep all day,” her voice yanked me out of sleep. When I pried my eyes open, she was standing in my doorway.
I groaned something unintelligible even to my own ears.
“Don’t give me that. If you don’t get up, we’ll be late for the spa appointment I made us.”
I lifted my head up off the pillow. “Huh?”
“I made us an appointment at the spa. Full treatment. But if you’d rather stay in bed . . .”
“No, no. I’ll get up.” I groaned again as I did so. My body was stiff and a little achy. Then something else occurred to me. “How are we going to get there, Grandmama? My car is a little bit toast at the moment,” I reminded her like she might have forgotten.
“I know. Which is why I called Ha-na and Sun-mi Park. They’re going to join us, so get ready. They’ll be here in an hour.” I had to silence another groan as Grandmama retreated from my room, pulling the door closed. I could think of a thousand ways to spend my day that would be preferable to an afternoon with the elder Mrs. Park. A visit to the gynecologist. A root canal. Paying bills. Running a full marathon. Just to list off a few. Mrs. Park was about as much fun as a potato. A wrinkly, mean, old potato. She was even more traditional than Grandmama and had only been in the US since her family moved her out here five years ago. Her daughter, Ha-na, wasn’t bad. She was a quiet woman, but I could already hear her mother’s voice clucking and tsking in disapproval at the state of my life.
“Why you no married yet, Cassandra?”
“Why you no have good job yet? I thought that’s why you went to college?”
“My granddaughter Mi-na no go to college. She married and have babies already. They just bought house.”
“My Mi-na would never get mixed up in trouble with boys like you.”
“Your poor Grandmama. I say extra prayer for you at church.”
Honestly, it was a wonder Grandmama could even stand her.
When I joined her downstairs in the kitchen, I found several loaves of my favorite Asian sweet bread, fresh from the oven. I took it as her apology for having to endure Mrs. Park.
Eleven
Nikolai
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself as I read the name on the screen of my phone. And then I remembered Eli was sitting next to me at the table, doing his math assignment while I pored through files on the computer that Spence had sent.
&n
bsp; “What, Daddy?” Eli looked up from his schoolwork.
“Nothing, buddy. I just wasn’t expecting this phone call. I need to take it in the kitchen. You finish up your homework.” He went back to the columns of addition problems in front of him and I slid my thumb across the screen to accept the call.
“I was beginning to doubt you were ever going to return my calls,” I said once I was out of earshot of Eli. He didn’t need to know that I was talking to his stepfather right now. Not until I knew what the hell was going on with Mike.
“I was out of town on business,” came his short reply.
“That’s what the police said.”
“You’ve talked to the police?” Was that worry in his voice?
“Yeah, and you might want to do the same. They’re looking for you. They have some questions. Doesn’t look good for you that you just up and took off.”
“I didn’t take off. I had business to take care of in California.”
“You still in California?”
“No,” he said hesitantly. “I caught a flight to Seattle.”
“What the hell are you doing in Seattle?” I growled.
“What do you think I’m doing? I figured it would be harder for you to tell me no if I was already here. I just want to see my boy.”
“He’s not yours,” I reminded him through a clenched jaw.
“Don’t give me that shit, Markov. I’ve raised him since he was a baby. I was there for more than you were.”
“Be real careful with what you say,” I warned him.
He sighed, “I just want to see him.”
“Where are you?”
“I just checked into my hotel. I’m at the Bellwether.”
“Be in the restaurant downstairs in an hour.” I ended the call and then placed one to Teller.
“Hey,” he answered.
“You driving?” I asked, detecting the slight difference in the call that was a result of being piped through the Bluetooth in his truck.
“Yeah, driving back to Houston from Galveston.”
“The guys get me anything on Lawrence yet?”
“Funny you should ask. I was in Galveston checking up on one of his property holdings.”
“I assume you had a reason for driving down there. Something about this property stand out to you?”
“Only that it’s a port facility he acquired two years ago through a shell, and he’s done a damn fine job of trying to hide it. This struck me as odd considering last I checked, his company dealt in manufacturing and not imports and exports. We haven’t been able to find out any other information on the property or what it’s being used for, which is why I drove down to scope it out myself. I didn’t like what I saw.”
“Son of a bitch,” I cursed. “You think he’s smuggling drugs for one of the cartels?”
“Whatever is going on, it’s not on the up and up, and there’s something else.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “What is it?”
“A week before the accident, Lisa purchased a couple of one-way tickets to Maine. Isn’t her family from up there?”
“Yeah, her parents live in Brunswick. That must be what the cops found. They told me she was leaving him. I don’t know what the hell was going on, but I don’t like any of this.”
“Maybe she got wind that Michael was mixed up in some shady shit, and decided to take Eli and get out of town. We’ll keep digging around down here and see what else we can find.”
“Thanks. He’s here in Seattle and I’m about to meet with him in an hour. Any way you can send the information you’ve already got to my phone. I intend to have a little chat with the asshole and find out just what the hell he’s mixed up in.” And if it was cartel shit or anything illegal that might have put my son in danger, I’d kill him.
“I’ll send you what we’ve got, but I think you should hold off on confronting him. We don’t have much right now. If he thinks you’re coming at him, he might take off before we can get to the bottom of it all. Give the guys more time to get something to really nail him on. If this is what we think it is, and he gets spooked, he’ll either leave the country or he’ll do something even more stupid. If it is cartel, you don’t want to bring that down on yourself.”
“Shit,” I cursed into the phone. He was right, and I would’ve known that if I were thinking clearly, but this was too personal for me. “Okay, yeah. Keep digging and keep me posted as soon as you know more.”
“Will do.”
“One more thing; he said he had business in California. Try to find out what that was, if he was really in California.”
Vik promised to keep me up to date as shit unfolded back there. In the meantime, I had to find someone to sit with Eli while I went and had a chat with Mike.
“Hey bud,” I walked back into the dining room where he had his nose nearly pressed to the paper as he worked out the last problem. “I’ve got to run out for a little bit. You want me to see if Cassie will come hang out with you?” Dumbass question. He nodded his head emphatically. “Okay, I’ll give her a call. If she’s busy, you might have to hang with Emily and Camden.”
As I hit the call button beside Cassie’s name, I didn’t know if I wanted her to answer or not. My thoughts surrounding her were . . . conflicted. Ever since that stupid phone call last night. Shit was shifting where she was concerned. Had been for a while if I was honest with myself.
That’s the problem with making up your mind about someone before you know them. People are almost never what you expect, and Cassie Rogers was not what I expected. I’d dug through her life, put a file together on her when Spencer asked me to, but that file hadn’t told me shit. Not the shit that mattered anyway. She was a lot more than what the file said. I could see that. I was finally seeing her. Hadn’t wanted to before, and that was shitty since I’d fucked her anyway and made a mess of everything. The problem was, the more I let myself look past what I wanted to see, to the girl under all that, the more I wanted to know her—and not just how many times she could come in a row before passing out, or if her kink matched mine the way I suspected it might.
But knowing her meant giving a shit.
With everyone else going on, I didn’t need that, or want it.
“Hey,” she answered softly after a few rings, and the gentle tone of her voice made me think back to the day before. How vulnerable she’d sounded in my truck and then later again on the phone. Yeah, this not caring shit was going real well.
“Hey, would you be able to watch Eli for a bit while I run out and take care of something?”
“Right now?”
“As soon as you can get here.”
“Umm, just a second.” Her end became muffled, but I could tell she was talking to someone else, and then she came back. “Okay, I can have someone drop me at your place if you can give me a ride home later.”
“Okay. See you when you get here.”
It wasn’t ten minutes before she knocked at the door and Eli leapt from his seat where we’d been reviewing his homework, and hurried to the door. He had his hand on the door knob before I stopped him.
“Hey, you don’t open the door if you can’t see who it is?”
“But Dad,” he whined doing a variation of the potty dance, only this was the I just want to hurry up and open the door dance. “I know it’s Cassie.”
“How do you know?” I asked him. “Do you have x-ray vision?”
“Daaaaad, who else would it be?”
“You don’t know. That’s exactly my point.”
His face twisted into a grumpy pout, and then a softer and sweeter, slightly amused, voice chimed through the door. “If I promise it’s me, then can he open the door?”
Eli’s frown was pulled into a big smile. “See Dad, it’s her! Can I let her in now?”
“I don’t know,” I dragged out as if hesitating. “How do we know you’re not a cyborg Cassie clone, or a Terminator look alike sent here from the future?”
“Did you just make
a joke?” she asked through the heavy oak door. “Eli, did you know your dad could make jokes?”
“Daaaad,” he ground out. “Just open the door already.”
When I disengaged the lock and pulled it open, Cassie was standing there, fresh faced, despite the bruises, a playful smile quirking up her lips. “Not a Terminator, I promise,” she teased as she stepped past me into the house.
“Hey, bud,” I turned to Eli. “Can you go clean up your snack mess from earlier.” I needed a second with Cassie.
“What’s up?” she asked, a slightly nervous pitch in her voice, once he’d darted off to do what I asked.
“Eli’s stepdad is here. That’s what I have to go take care of. I don’t want Eli to know yet. I need to clear up a few things with him before I let him see Eli. I don’t know how long it will take.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight.”
“Thank you for doing this.”
“I’m happy to help. If you haven’t figured it out already, I’ve got a soft spot for that kid.”
“Just him?” I smirked and Cassie frowned.
Fucking hell, was I trying to flirt?
I raked a hand through my hair. “Just text me if you need anything.”
The drive to the hotel took longer than it should have, but even with the beginnings of rush hour traffic, I was still perched on a stool at the restaurant bar before Mike appeared.
I spotted him before he spotted me. The guy didn’t look good. Even more worn and haggard than he’d been a week ago. He searched the restaurant and found me, then looked around, still searching, before bringing his disappointed gaze back round to me.
“Where’s Eli?” he asked, pulling out the empty stool next to mine.
“At home. We need to have chat, Mike.”
“What about?” he bristled.
“When I talked to the detective the other day, he questioned me about Lisa having an affair. Did you know?”
I watched him closely and didn’t miss the way some of the tension eased from his body. What had he been afraid I was going to say? Even his expression noticeably relaxed for a fraction of a second before he slipped on a mask. “Not until the police questioned me too. I’m still having a hard time believing it’s true. I guess love sometimes means being in denial, but I thought our marriage was solid, you know?” He was playing the part of wounded spouse, defeated and heartbroken. Only problem was, I knew it was an act. I’d gotten good over the years at picking up on the subtle tells. He was trying too hard. And if their marriage was so great, why had he messed around with the nanny?
Blackest Night (Shades of Death Book 3) Page 13