The Salvatores Collection: A Steel Saviors MC Romance

by Ethan Egorov

“Kristina . . . um,” Trent stammered, not able to get the full words out.

  Kristina knew what he was about to do. He was going to make some lame excuse for why they couldn’t have a moment together, accuse her of being so many different things, insult her, and then leave. Maybe Kristina was too harsh on him, but it was the exact thing that he had done this morning, and she was tired of it. She just wanted him to relax and be in the moment, not somewhere else.

  “Trent, that’s enough,” she said sternly. “You are always so damned tense. Well, that will not be the case tonight. Here. Let’s have a toast.”

  She raised her glass. Trent begrudgingly went along. Kristina admittedly took a little bit of delight in seeing him squirm, but it wasn’t anything she was going to be guilt-tripped into not doing.

  “To Trent. May you not always be so uptight in the new year!”

  She then clanked her glass against his and he downed the champagne with her. Trent noticeably relaxed, and Kristina smiled and patted his cheek. This was all she wanted for the next couple of hours—for them to relax enough to remember the good old times.

  It was the things that would happen later that she was more worried about.

  “You know what?” Trent said. “Let’s do another.”

  That was all I ever wanted to hear from you, Trent. It’s about damned time.

  “Oh, absolutely, darling. Let me keep filling your glass.”

  The champagne overflowed in Trent’s glass as Kristina poured several more drinks. Later, with them both sufficiently loosened up and more than a little bit aroused, she’d had enough. She straddled him and took off his ball cap. She began running her fingers through his hair.

  “Kristina—”

  “Hush,” she said. “Don’t act like you’re too good for this or above this. This doesn’t mean anything other than enjoying a moment.”

  She pressed her body into his, moaning as pleasure began to fill her body. She knew if she kept going, she was going to lose herself to him so much that she wouldn’t be able to even remember the gift. The gift was given to her by the client, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a little bit of pleasure in it.

  “Before we get this party underway,” she said, whispering into his ear. “Let me get the gift I promised you.”

  “On the table over there.”

  Trent’s arm was heavy and his motions were languid as he pointed toward the box on the table. Trent looked a little out of it, which was a bit surprising for champagne, and Kristina hadn’t given him that much of it. Besides, it was probably for the best that he was getting a little loose. He needed to be that way for his own benefit anyway.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she said, running his hand up and down his body. “Why don’t you sit here like a good boy, and when I get back, we’ll go into the bedroom. What do you say?”

  Trent could barely get the words out, but that was enough.

  “Yes, please.”

  Kristina eased herself off his lap. She made it a point to make her movements slow and languid as she took her time walking to retrieve the box that contained the sexy lingerie. She knew he couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her body. She truly affected him more deeply than anyone he’d ever known.

  “Damn.”

  But for Trent to suddenly sound concerned was a little more disconcerting.

  “What was that, Trent?”

  “Nothing, I’m . . . I’m just checking a message.”

  That was a lie. He didn’t have his phone anywhere near him. There was something he wasn’t saying. Maybe something about how he felt about her? She decided she wasn’t going to push the issue. Questions of intimacy, feelings, and love could wait until later. She just needed to get them naked as quickly as she could.

  “Fuck me. Fuck my life.”

  That’s not helping. But I’ll bet :him seeing me like this will.

  Kristina emerged from the bathroom wearing the white low-cut chemise. Trenton almost fell out of his chair. Silhouetted by the dim light of the bathroom, she was stunning. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head to make certain he was awake. Yes, this wasn’t a dream. Yes, this was real.

  “Kristina . . . wow, oh my God. You’re fucking beautiful.”

  She took a few steps toward him, walking even more seductively.

  “You are a poet, aren’t you?” she said.

  She was horny as hell. His cock was stiffening in his pants, bulging so much that Kristina could see it pushing through. She wanted him—needed him—inside of her. She wasn’t even thinking about the job right now. She wasn’t thinking about anything other than having the one man who could send chills down her spine back.

  She had Trent back. She had him about to be naked. She had him.

  And then they heard a click.

  The click of a gun.

  Trent

  He leaped from the chair and ducked his head as a shot rang out. It ripped through the soft fabric of the chair and embedded itself into the hotel wall, apparently having come from outside the room.

  Trent was dizzy and incoherent. He didn’t think he had that much champagne, but he felt worse than his birthday night when he’d had more alcohol than any other point in the year. Something was off about those drinks, but that didn’t mean shit in light of getting shot at.

  “Kristina! Get down!”

  Trent made a mad dash for her, knocking her down as someone from a different building seemed to be shooting at them. Whoever her client was, whoever knew they were going to be there, had apparently set it up as a chance to shoot at him.

  But who the fuck? If he was a Mikkelson by birth, why would they want him dead?

  Maybe they got a new male heir.

  “Trent, what the fuck’s going on? Who the fuck did you piss off?”

  What? She doesn’t know?

  “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing!” he shouted, no longer concerned in the slightest with how she looked or was dressed. “What’s this job you’re on? Who the fuck hired you that wants me dead?”

  “I don’t even have the details yet!” she said, though Trent wasn’t inclined to believe her. It was really hard to believe her when he was now probably drugged and definitely in danger.

  “Fuck!” Trent roared, currently more concerned about the barrage of bullets than anything else.

  They quickly scurried to the door, and another shot sounded. Trent turned behind him and scanned the room. The assailant wasn’t in sight. Unfortunately, that only meant that wherever they were positioned across the street, they could probably see him, and he couldn’t see them. That meant the longer they sat like sitting ducks, the more likely it was he would end up dead. He didn’t want to take any risks, but that was the only way to ensure he would survive.

  “Come on, hurry. Just run to the elevator! Run!”

  They made a dash for it, bullets missing him by mere inches. Whoever was shooting wasn’t very good, but it only took one shot to cripple him.

  The shots stopped as soon as they left the hotel room and got to the elevator hallway. For the briefest of moments, Trent felt like he’d found momentary safety. He paused and took a breath.

  And then, just before turning the corner to the elevators, Trent looked behind him and saw the gleaming silver barrel of a gun and a vague outline of a man.

  He pulled out his Colt and fired a couple shots back in the general direction of the man.

  “Kristina!”

  “I’m doing what I can!” she screamed, banging on the elevator buttons.

  Finally, one opened for both of them to slip into. She quickly shut the doors and hit the button for the ground floor. Trent leaned back against the elevator wall, somehow both sobered up but still feeling the effects of the drinks, effects he no longer believed stemmed from the alcohol.

  “What . . . the . . . fuck just happened?” Trent roared, having never valued the slowness of an elevator quite so much before now.

  “I told you, I don’t know!”

  “B
ullshit!”

  For Kristina not to know was laughable on so many damn levels. For one, Kristina was never so unaware of a job as to have something like this happen without her knowledge. Two, even if the job involved things on a “need to know” basis, she had to know that dragging him to the room involved things beyond two lovers reuniting.

  And three, did Kristina really not know what was going on in this town? Was she that oblivious?

  He didn’t necessarily believe that Kristina had sold out the Salvatores for two million bucks. But she did believe that she might have turned a blind eye for Trent, perhaps as revenge for a lover’s breakup. He was pissed, trying to make sense of it, and hurting for an explanation. He needed time to make sense of all the bullshit that had just happened.

  But unfortunately, the elevator wasn’t as slow as he’d thought it was. It was already settling down at the main lobby.

  As soon as the doors open, the two of them would make it a point to get lost in the crowd. If either one of them was a target, the killer couldn’t get a clean shot off in the droves of people. Trent could only hope that was enough to prevent whoever was trying to kill them from opening fire in a hotel lobby.

  The elevator doors opened, and the room grew silent. It was only after a couple of moments that Trent realized why all eyes seemed to fall upon Kristina— she was still in nothing but her lingerie. In their haste to escape the chaos, they only made themselves even more visible to everyone.

  “Um . . . this isn’t what it looks like. There’s really nothing to see here. We were just out of ice.”

  Trent knew it was a pitiful excuse, and he began to wish he hadn’t said anything at all, not because he knew he was full of it, but because it would have drawn attention to himself. Nevertheless, most people went back to gossiping and talking amongst themselves, and the two were able to retreat to a relatively anonymous spot. For now, Trent was just happy there wasn’t gunfire erupting, something he did not take for granted at the moment.

  “It looks like it may be clear for now,” Trent said, catching his breath.

  But just because the area was clear of gunfire didn’t mean it was clear of drama and trouble. They still had a lot of problems to deal with.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, Kristina, but I know you’re in danger,” Trent said. “All I need to do is remember what just happened to know that’s true. Are you telling me the truth that you really don’t have any more details on the job you’re supposed to do? Or are you still playing coy for some stupid fucking reason?”

  Kristina looked like she was about to slap him. Both of them were back in that enraged and pissed off state, and there was no coming down for either one, not after what had just happened.

  “Why the fuck would I lie to you, Trent?”

  One thing was for sure— if she was lying, she was damned good at it. Trent genuinely didn’t believe she was lying, but that just made the situation even more preposterous. Had someone really hired her and told her so little that there was no way she knew what was about to happen?

  “Listen to yourself,” she said, her voice a mixture of frustration and pleading. “That previous girlfriend you were with must have made you paranoid or something. No, for the last time, I really don’t know. The meeting is tomorrow night. I just thought me and you could have a little fun before then.”

  She seemed to take a moment to look down at herself and look around, as if in disbelief that this was the spot she found herself in this evening, all but naked in a hotel lobby with a man she hadn’t seen in years. Trent couldn’t really blame her. Minus the ridiculous clothing, he pretty much felt the exact same way.

  “I guess not now,” she said with a tinge of regret. “You really know what a girl’s turn-offs are. And in case you still think I knew what was going to happen, I’ll tell you that getting shot at isn’t one of them.”

  For the first time since Trent saw her that morning, he actually thought Kristina was showing signs of emotional fatigue like her façade was about to crack, and she was going to start crying. He couldn’t decide if he pitied her or wanted to use the excuse to mock her further.

  “I suggest you go back to your little Crackerjack apartment and not come out until you get whoever is tailing you off your trail,” she said, shaking. “I’m going back to get the fuck away from you, and then see if I can get in touch with my client. They won’t be happy to find out their new hire has already destroyed their hotel room. This is bad for business, Trent. I just . . . I can’t. Go.”

  Really? Something completely out of my control happens, and now I’m a fucking contagious virus that needs to be avoided at all costs? What the actual fucking shit is this nonsense?

  And you’re going back to your hotel room? I know you weren’t shot at, but Christ, Kristina, do you really think—

  “Do you think I wanted this shit to happen?” Kristina said, apparently picking up on the fact that Trent didn’t know what to make of her actions. “I had no clue that it was going to go down like this.”

  Trent couldn’t believe his misfortune. But he also couldn’t quite let go as he needed to, and having Kristina like this in front of him didn’t help matters.

  As much as it embarrassed him to admit, in a moment of clarity, as time seemed to slow down and he looked her in the eyes, he realized he really couldn’t do without her. For all that had happened, for all of the drama, she hadn’t lied to him.

  And if that was the case, then the two of them . . . well, maybe they could still be a thing. Maybe they could still try and make something work.

  Maybe. It was a definite maybe. But still, wasn’t a maybe worth fighting for?

  “Look,” he said, trying to calm himself down as much as possible, so his tone of voice didn’t turn her off. “What do you say after we get this mess ironed out and before you skip town again, we have some actual quality time together? No drugs, no booze, no slinky outfits, no pressure, just me and you and our dreams, like when we were younger. You remember, don’t you, Kristina? Isn’t that what the point of tonight was? To return to the good old days?”

  For a few moments, her eyes became hollow and she seemed small and fragile once again. Of course, she remembered. How could she forget? He certainly couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. She looked pale, and her eyes suddenly became rimmed with tears.

  “I might have agreed with you earlier,” she said.

  But after everything that just went down, after we just got jolted out of our sex-induced haze . . .

  “But you know that was ages ago. We were both different people then. We were so young. So full of life. I mean, we were practically kids.”

  Trent hated that he wanted her back. He hated that even though he had nearly gotten killed because of her, he still wanted her. So much for all the growth and thought he had put into maturing himself.

  “But what does that change?” Trent said, even though he knew full well it changed quite a bit. He was officially in desperation mode. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you, Kristina. You’re still that girl with the wild eyes and warm soul I was . . .”

  He couldn’t finish his words. He thought he had won her over. Just because he couldn’t say “in love with” didn’t mean she couldn’t pick up on it. It was enough, he thought.

  Instead, her eyes suddenly became steely, and she cleared her throat. She looked at him with hard resolve. Trent’s gut dropped before she so much as said a word because he knew whatever was coming on the other side wasn’t going to be good.

  “No.”

  No . . .

  “Not at all, Trent.”

  The worst part of it wasn’t the words. It was how certain and how unemotional she sounded about what she was saying. What the hell had changed?

  “I’m not that girl anymore. I’ve changed more than you can ever comprehend, and I’m sorry if this somehow breaks your rather nostalgic image of me. I think it’s best if you leave. Don’t you dare come back either, not unless I ask you to, though I wouldn�
�t hold my breath.”

  Did I really turn her off that bad? I mean, I know she got shot at, but was that really my fault? And if so, shouldn’t she be worried about my fucking safety too?

  But Trent didn’t say anything else as he watched Kristina turn swiftly and walk back to the hotel elevator, apparently completely unconcerned about her problems. He thought of chasing her to make sure she was safe, but she walked onto the elevator and closed the doors before he made it in time, and just like that she was gone.

  Eventually, he walked out of the hotel and into the dark, cold night. The air was chilling. He looked around him suspiciously for a few minutes and sighed deeply. He looked up toward the side of the hotel where the bullets had come from, trying to see if he could spot anything. He wanted to see who had done this or at least see the building where the shots had originated from, if for no other reason than to get information for later.

  But he couldn’t see anything. He didn’t even see any windows with bullet holes. It was almost like magic. Whoever had shot at him had the damage cleaned up and taken care of before he could so much as see anything from the outside.

  At least he was apparently safe, but he didn’t really know what to do at this point. He hadn’t found any indication of who targeted Saul’s wife, and none of his contacts had messaged him. The only thing that resembled a clue was the orange baby blanket and a glimpse of a silver gun in the hotel. That really didn’t help him any, though, since Saul’s wife had been stabbed and not shot.

  He knew a bunch of people, himself included, had gotten hurt or were at risk of getting hurt further, and he had no leads, no clues, nothing to point him in a given direction.

  Frustrated, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a few numbers. When none of them answered, he decided he would just give up for the evening and go home. After all, it had been a long couple of days, and he really hadn’t gotten much rest. He knew that if he was going to get to the bottom of the situation, he would definitely have to put all emotional thoughts of Kristina on the back burner. She was many things, but at this point, she was a distraction above all else.