“We have to get out of here,” he answers then shocks me as he grabs my hand.
He tries to usher me toward the back door of his apartment, but I pull back.
“My clothes, Liev. I can’t go outside like this.”
“Come on,” he roars. “You want to spend the rest of your life in prison?”
“What! What are you talking about? Why would that happen to me?”
“You know what, fuck this. Stay if you want.” He releases my hand getting ready to leave me.
He manages one step before the door crashes open and the police rush in with guns.
Actual guns. Some look like machine guns.
Liev still tries to run, but he’s stopped by two military looking officers who have him on the ground in seconds. One holds him down while the other handcuffs him.
All this time, I’m staring, shell-shocked wanting to scream and wake from this nightmare but can’t.
“Liev Ivanov you are under arrest for drug dealing, racketeering, money laundering, assisting burglary, and preventing the course of justice,” the officer who handcuffed him says and begins reading him his rights.
Drug dealing, racketeering, money laundering, assisting a burglary, and preventing the course of justice.
What the fuck?
The man I’ve been dating for the last six months couldn’t be guilty of all of that.
Or could he?
Maybe this is the damn thing my gut was telling me.
Oh my God. I’ve been dating a criminal.
“Come with us Miss.” One of the officers says snapping me out of my daze.
“Me?” I point to myself. “No, no I didn’t do anything.”
“You can either come with us the easy way or we can arrest you.”
“Arrest?” I can barely get the word out. This can’t be happening to me.
“Which will it be?”
“I’ll go,” I reply in the weakest voice and I fall into a nightmare as I’m carted away in my stupid sexy lingerie.
Chapter 3
Bree
When we get to the station, I’m given a blanket which barely covers my shoulders.
Having to choose between which half of me should be covered up, I opted for my bottom half and wrapped the blanket around my hips like a sarong. As if I’m on the damn beach. One look at the lacy red Victoria’s Secret bra I have painted on me, and anyone would know what kind of night I had planned.
It hardly matters because I have no idea what kind of trouble I’m in.
The depth of that trouble really hits when I’m taken to one of those interrogation rooms like those tv shows CSI or Law and Order, both of which I watch religiously every weekend.
Little did I know I’d be in a situation like I’ve been inserted into an episode.
I’m in here waiting for the senior detective to come and speak to me and God knows what will happen when he does.
I try to think of who could help me.
The first person I think of is Quinn. She’s like a sister to me and we were like sisters growing up because we were both the only children our parents had.
But Quinn can’t help me. She’s the last person I should tell anything because she’s pregnant. Logan, her husband, could probably help. But realistically if I’m even thinking of him then I might as well think of the only other guy I know could help me.
One police officer. A high-ranking detective who I’m sure practically owns this precinct.
Damn Ethan Carson.
But he would never help me. I don’t even have to wonder. He would sooner see me rot in jail before he thought about investigating what actually happened.
Jail…
Oh, but Liev said prison. Prison is a whole other ball game of orange tunics and crazy inmates who want to eat you for breakfast.
I wouldn’t last a day. I’d be one of those people you hear about who went in and died within the hour. I’d probably die from fright.
Damn, Liev. He knew this trouble was of the prison variety.
He knew and dragged me into this shit.
Sweet Jesus, what if I’m seen as some kind accomplice to any of those crimes the officers listed out?
Over the last six months no week has gone by where I haven’t seen Liev at least two to three times. It’s by watching my crime dramas I know I could only be here if the police suspected me of something too.
What the hell did he get me into?
The handle on the metal door turns and my back goes ramrod straight. My heart gallops and my pulse skitters with anticipation. Trepidation suffocates the oxygen in my body and it’s like a hand closes over lungs, squeezing. Tightly.
God this is it.
I try to steady my trembling hands as I stare at the door.
When it swings open, I swear to God I don’t know if I should laugh or cry when I see Ethan Carson standing there like the god he used to be at Wilmington High.
Both reactions would be as a result of the same emotion—doom.
Deep, dark, doom.
That stroke of bad luck that must have gotten me when I thought it was a good idea to date Liev must be ridding my shoulders now. This guy is the one person I never wanted to see me like this. And look at me—wearing a bra and blanket.
As our eyes lock, I don’t miss the wealth of mischief lurking in his striking blue eyes. Whilst I stare, I curse myself the way I always do when I’m in his presence because my stupid body reacts the same way to him.
My stomach still flip flops and heat washes over my being, radiating from the inside out, like I’ve been tossed into a microwave.
As if I’ve completely lost my mind, the same thing happened to me even after every terrible high school prank. The worse two—which I never forgave him for—was stuffing my car with dead fish that stank so bad I had to ditch my car, and the worse prank of all was listing me up as a stripper called Muffin on a phone sex line.
That’s what he did to me nearly seventeen years ago.
The man is gorgeous with the type of looks Hollywood would pay an arm and a leg for. It’s that mere fact which forces my brain to bypass the obvious truth that Ethan Carson is the devil incarnate.
He was my childhood nemesis. My very own high school bully. There’s not a single memory from the past that included him that I could say was good. it was all bad, bad, bad, and this situation is bad, bad, bad.
Now I’m at his mercy.
He who wrecked the town and was always in and out juvie. It’s me who’s the criminal now and as I look I know he wouldn’t have passed up this opportunity to see my downfall.
What the hell is going to happen to me now?
“Bree Dawson, now this is sight I never thought I would see,” he states striding in. He takes the chair before me and plants his muscular frame into it.
Metal scratches against concreate as he straightens and sets his large hands on the table between us.
I’m finding it hard to talk even to say hi because I think I might cry. I’m fighting back tears as I sit here, praying to the good Lord in his high heavens that he’ll deliver me from evil.
“And dressed like that,” he comments arching one thick brow.
I cross my hands over my breasts. I’m showing way too much skin to be taken seriously and I need to get my head out of my ass to save myself.
“I didn’t do anything and the least those Neanderthal cop friends of yours could have done is allow me my coat.” There, that sounds like me. If I keep it up, I’ll be able to explain things and get myself out of here.
“Bree, I don’t know if you understand the seriousness of this situation. I’m the second in command here. So, the reason I’m questioning you because this case is about to go federal.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone that makes every ounce of bravery I summoned dissipate into the ether.
“Federal?” I stutter.
“Yes. Federal as in FBI, which means if you’re taken to prison it will be the maximum-security type.”
My stomach lu
rches and my hands fly up to my mouth.
Oh my God…
I can’t let this happen to me so I can’t smart mouth him or talk my way out of this.
I don’t want to go to prison. Last week all I wished for was getting my business underway before I turn thirty. I don’t have the husband and the kids I saw myself with at this age, and I didn’t even have the business per say. I made choices and the steps to fix my business was my way of fixing things.
If I go to prison, it’s over.
And my parents would … no things are bad enough with them as it is.
“Ethan, I can’t go to prison. I didn’t do anything. I swear to you. You have to believe me. I’m sure we can put aside our differences and talk about this.”
The beginning of a smile tips the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t quite come.
“Put aside our differences? Like when I asked you to dance at Logan and Quinn’s wedding and you said you didn’t dance with assholes.”
My lips part and I don’t know what to say. I still stand by my word, because he is an asshole, but I need to change things up if only for tonight.
“To be fair, you called me Muffin. Right there in front of our friends and I was just upset.” I try for a smile, but really I still want to slap him.
He chuckles and I want to slap that grin right off his handsome, perfect face even more than I did months ago.
“It’s not funny,” I say.
“But it’s supposed to be.”
“It’s not funny.” I ball my hands and bite down hard on my back teeth, mentally counting to calm myself. Right now, I’d be willing to count all the sheep in Farmer Tanner’s pasture if it would ease the pressure on my soul, waiting to blow.
I’ve never lived down that stupid name. Muffin.
It’s just like him to pick something I love and make me hate it. Now if I want a muffin it’s consumed within the safe confines of my home where no one from the past can see me and conjure up that horrid shitty memory.
Mamma was so embarrassed. I remember going to church that Sunday when the shit hit the fan and people casting judging glances my way. Even Pastor Johnson looked at me like I was a child of hell. So much for welcoming sinners to help them get on a new path of life. I was the talk of the town.
Until the rumors died down my father was the only person who believed me.
“We can agree to disagree,” Ethan states, as if the shit from the past still doesn’t follow me. “Anyway, that’s so far down the list of priorities right now.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
He leans forward on to his elbows and his biceps bulge against his shirt showing off serious muscle.
“How about you answer questions. Then we’ll take it from there. Can we agree on that?”
I drag in a breath. “Yes.”
“Okay. So, I’m gonna start by telling you your boyfriend is part of the Russian mafia.”
As if I couldn’t feel worse. “Liev is in the mafia?”
“Yes, Bree. The man looks like a pit bull from hell, and he’s covered in prison tats. Didn’t it ever cross your mind that he could be dangerous?”
“No, he was so nice to me.”
“Well, that niceness got you implicated in this shit because Liev had been using your bank account to launder money.”
I suck in a breath. “Oh my God, Ethan. I didn’t know.”
“Well now you do. I need you to tell me everything.”
“Like what? I don’t know anything.”
“How did you meet?”
“At the club in town.”
“When?”
“We’ve been together for six months.” I bring my hands together.
“How often do you see him?”
“A few times a week.” My voice shakes as I worry about revealing how much I see Liev.
“And is that how you dress for him every time you see him?” His bastard eyes drop to my breasts.
I slip my hands over them again and scowl at him. “How is that relevant?”
“I’m trying to establish how solid the relationship was. The way I hear it, if the officers were a few seconds later, they would have walked in on one steamy surprise. The look of you says they were right. You look like you’re step away from being a Playboy bunny.”
“That is not fair, and I’m sure there was a breach of my privacy or human rights somewhere along the line.”
“The officers had reasonable suspicions to take you into custody. They wouldn’t have done so otherwise. Besides people trust their significant others with information and they’ll lie for them easily. So back to my question. I need an answer, Bree.”
An answer to the damn question he hasn’t outrightly asked—was I going to have sex with Liev?
“Yes.” The word sounds far away as I say it.
“And how long are you with him on these meetings? Does he stay the night at your place? And you the same at his?”
Please Lord restrain me from snapping, I really don’t see why this is relevant.
My cheeks heat with an unwelcomed blush as I gear up to answer his probing question.
“Yes,” I grate out.
His jaw clenches and there’s a noticeable tick in his beard.
An unreadable expression comes into his face and clouds his eyes. It looks like rage, but I can’t be certain. Rage wouldn’t make sense.
“Bree, you spent all that time with this guy, slept with him, and you had no idea he was a fucking criminal?” Now he’s looking at me like I’m stupid.
“No, I didn’t. My ears to God,” I rasp and clap my hand to my heart the way Mamma does when she speaks to Pastor Johnson. “He wasn’t like that with me. He was always giving me things and taking care of me. There was nothing to suggest anything untoward about him.”
“Are you on drugs?” He asks the question so fast it catches me off guard. Again, I’m reminded of my crime dramas. Cops try to do that to throw you and catch you in a lie. I can’t believe he’s trying that with me.
“I’m not on drugs! Damn you, and damn it to hell, my relationship with Liev was anything but solid. I was going to give it another month before I ended things.”
That’s the first time I said that outside my head, and who would have thought I would tell Ethan Carson before I told Quinn. Or even confirmed what I was going to do to myself.
As perfect as things were, I planned to break up with Liev after Lucille’s wedding. Then I wouldn’t feel lame going solo to her upcoming nuptials to Prince De Longsell. I wouldn’t be the old maid she called me when we last saw each other.
Ethan looks surprised to hear the declaration but gives nothing more away.
“So, you weren’t serious about him?” he clarifies.
“No.”
“But he was serious about you.”
“Clearly not if I’m sitting here.” I recall how Liev was just going to leave me to the cops.
Fuck him. I hope he gets what’s coming to him.
Ethan looks at me for a moment and I pray he drops the subject.
“Did you ever see anything suspicious?”
“No, I did not.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know what he was like. I swear it.”
“Bree, Liev Ivanov is a very bad man. I suggest you think twice next time before you get involved with someone like him.”
I feel like I’m being lectured like an idiot, but what else is he supposed to think?
“Okay, fine, lesson learned. Can you please tell me what’s going to happen to me?”
He schools his face and temples his fingers. “Well right now, I’ll be watching you. I hope you don’t have any plans to leave the country because then Interpol and Homeland security would get involved, and Christ knows where you’d end up.”
My heart seizes. “Interpol and Homeland security?”
“Look darlin,” he states borrowing my accent like he did when we were kids. “T
his ain’t Mayberry or Kansas. There is no wizard to save you, or any of them Oom-pah loom-pah creatures running up and down the yellow brick road.”
There he goes again talking to me like I’m stupid at least I’d be able to get the films right and not mash them together.
“This is real life,” he adds as if I don’t know. “The way it looks, one wrong move and you could end up in GITMO.”
“What the hell is that?”
“Guantanamo Bay.”
That does it. A tear runs down my cheek and I wipe it away, willing away the others. The last time I cried in front of him was that whole incident.
I wouldn’t have guessed where life would take me.
I really am in trouble.
Chapter 4
Ethan
I am going straight to hell.
I know I am.
Like always when I get going, I take things way too far. Tonight, is no exception and this is perhaps the worse crazy prank I’ve pulled on Bree.
Prank.
No, I think what I’ve done here is more like punked her on a whole different level and I need to reel it in before it gets out of hand.
We’re both too old for this shit. Well me, anyway. She’s still in her twenties and can claim to youth. I can’t claim to being anything other than an asshole and if she finds out the truth about tonight there is no question of whether she’ll stop speaking to me.
I feel worse when another tear runs down her cheek. That Guantanamo Bay comment really hit me a home run.
I pull out a pack of Kleenex from my pocket and hand it to her.
“Thank you,” she mumbles.
“I’m going to take you home,” I hear myself say. It’s a bad idea but something I probably should do because I’m not sending her out with just anyone dressed like that.
“You’re not going to keep me in?”
“No. I’m sure I can put our differences aside and see what I can do to work something out for you.”
When hope fills her eyes, I really do feel like shit. She’s never looked at me like that before.
“Could you really?”
She’s right to ask when I made her situation sound worst case scenario.
Out of Bounds: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Sinful Bachelors Book 2) Page 2