The trolley jerked forward, slowly pulling away from its stop.
Maybe it was cleaner this way. Safer for everyone.
But she couldn’t help thinking she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Six
Roman wasn’t a slave to schedules or plans. In his world, events and strategies were too prone to go astray. A wrong word spoken to the wrong person. A desperate, ill-thought-out action taken in the heat of the moment. A new rival who thought they had what it took to infiltrate an established area. Any of them could shake an established peace between vors and turn a quiet day to chaos in seconds.
But today...
Today was beyond what even he could fathom.
Parked on the corner of St. Ann and North Prieur Street, he soaked in what details around him he could with the dim streetlamp burning overhead. To his right, an industrial building that had once housed some kind of a business sat with plywood over its windows and doors. A string of weathered white duplexes with iron bars on the windows stretched one after the other on his left and old power lines zigzagged overhead.
But it was the row of apartments up ahead that held the bulk of his attention. A two-story brick structure that had been painted gray with red trim and resembled an old-fashioned motel from the outside. Compared to the rest of the block, it was aged, but tidy.
Unlike his day had proven to be.
First the call from Bonnie.
Then the interlude with Pauley.
And finally, the text from Cassie advising him that Bonnie had gone home.
He sighed into the quiet and glared at the ground floor unit labeled 104C. Part of him wasn’t surprised she’d run. Was actually more surprised at how long she’d taken to bolt.
But another part of him was disappointed. Not to mention worried he’d misread her. Even Sergei had questioned the wisdom of continuing any efforts to help her when he’d learned Bonnie had run.
The comment had earned him a sharp rebuttal from Evette. “I’m telling you, the girl was having a panic attack. I know. I’ve had a few in my day. You can’t just leave her hanging with her dad and brother missing. Helping people is what you’re supposed to do.”
He’d pulled her close and cupped the side of her face. “We can only offer a hand to those in need, liubimaja. We cannot force them to take it.”
His pakhan was right. No matter the hardship or situation, people didn’t change until they’d truly reached their breaking point.
And yet, here he was.
Ignoring the responsibilities that had stacked up from his errant day and fully intent on knocking on Bonnie’s door. If, for no other reason, than to assure Cassie and Evette that she’d made it home safely and let Bonnie know Pauley wasn’t behind her family’s disappearance.
The real unknown in his dead-end errand was how she’d respond to his checking in and, if she’d truly had a panic attack, what had triggered it.
He killed the truck’s engine and got out. From one of the duplexes, the muted but steady bass of someone’s music thrummed into the night, mingling with the clipped strides of his footsteps on the cracked asphalt. At almost eleven, the temperature hovered just above freezing and, from the wood smoke lingering in the air, someone had deemed it cold enough for a fire.
Outside Bonnie’s door, he paused. No sounds came from inside, but the light was on, so he assumed she was still up. Either that or she was too spooked from the day to sleep with the light off.
He knocked on the door.
More quiet followed, but after a few moments the blinds shifted just enough for someone to peek between them. They clattered back into place and Bonnie’s voice sounded from behind the door. “I’m here, and I’m fine.”
Stubborn woman. She truly had more regal attitude than she knew what to do with. “You will forgive me if I insist on confirming that with my own eyes.”
In the silence that followed, he could easily imagine the same exasperated expression he’d already earned through the course of the day. The lock slid free a heartbeat later, and she opened the door. “See? All good?”
Oh, he saw. And in great detail. The jeans, jacket and boots from earlier in the day were gone, replaced with fuzzy gray fleece pajama bottoms with whimsical white stars and a simple white tank that clung to her full breasts.
He forced his gaze to her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was painfully low and strained. “You forget, malen’kaya koroleva, it was you who called for assistance today. You cannot blame those you called upon for following through and ensuring your safety, even if you do not think it’s necessary.”
Even in the shadowed entry, her flush was unmistakable as was the guilty flash behind her eyes. “That’s fair.” She relaxed her grip on the door and ducked her head. “I didn’t mean to run out like I did. I just... I don’t know. Got a little overwhelmed, I guess.”
It was a start. Not enough, but a start. “Cassie and Evette assumed as much. What they didn’t understand was what triggered your reaction.”
“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“It does to them.” And to him as well, if he was honest.
She sighed and studied the doorjamb. “Your family’s really nice, okay? Everyone will be a lot better off if I keep my shit out of the equation.”
“Says who?”
Her focus cut to his face, a wealth of fire, pain and disappointment swimming in her green eyes. “Says pretty much anyone who’s ever come into contact with me.”
An interesting choice of wording. As if she’d been tried and judged for the sins of her family many times over.
The smart thing to do was walk away. Simply tell her what he’d learned from Pauley, bid her good night and never step foot across her threshold.
But the way she’d looked at him when he’d caught her was burned in his mind. The lush press of her body against his unforgettable.
He splayed his hand on the door instead and pushed it wider, crowding closer.
“What are you doing?” she stammered as she stumbled out of his way.
“Coming in and gauging just how safe you are in this environment.” The living room was sparse, to say the least. An old gray futon with too thin of a cushion sat against one wall and a gooseneck desk lamp was centered on a plastic milk crate beside it. There was no television. No source of music. Only white walls in need of fresh paint, worn tan carpet and weathered blinds. Every inch of it was clean, though.
“You know, most people call someone barging in without being invited breaking and entering.” Despite her comment, the thud of the door closing sounded behind him.