And for the record, she’d put in the effort.
Gunmetal gray.
“We’re headed to your house now,” Roman said to whoever was on the phone. He ended the call, slid the device into the interior pocket of his jacket.
“To whose house?” Bonnie asked before he could start the engine.
“My pakhan’s home.” He pulled his seat belt into place. “You’ll be safe there until my men and I have time to do more research.” He turned enough to meet her gaze. “Give me your address.”
“How about if you just drop me off at the Orleans Avenue exit off I-10? If we get out of here with no one following us, I can be out of your hair.” It was bad enough she’d had to drag Cassie out to see where she’d grown up. Adding her own squalor into the mix wasn’t high on her list of desirable ideas.
“You don’t know who took your brother and father,” Roman said. “How do you know they won’t be waiting for you where you live?”
A valid point.
“You’re not a bother,” Cassie said. “I told you I’ve been looking forward to you meeting my family. So, let Roman do his thing and I’ll introduce you to Evie and Emerson. They’ll love you.”
Now, that part she wasn’t so sure about. Yeah, if Cassie liked them, they were probably cool. But not everyone took to a girl like her. “Don’t they live in one of those multi-million-dollar places in the Garden District?”
“Yes.” Cassie cocked her head. “So?”
“So, I’m kinda the proverbial bull in a china shop don’t you think?” She waved to Roman and Cassie. “I mean, look at the two of you. You’re all duded up and I’m in jeans, a tank and boots. Not to mention I’m prone to dropping f-bombs.”
“You don’t say fuck at the TV station,” Cassie said.
“Sure, I do. I just wait until no one can hear me.”
“But I bet you check it around kids.”
Well, that was fair. But didn’t everyone?
Cassie kept going. “And Roman in a suit is a rare thing. On any other day, he’d be in jeans, too, so that’s a moot point.”
“A what point?”
“Moot,” Cassie said.
“You see?” Bonnie said to Roman as if Cassie had proven her point. “I don’t know what moot means. I’m not cut out for the Garden District.”
Roman didn’t miss a beat, his deep voice and thick Russian accent making his words come out like a proclamation. “You will go with us and, when we get there, you will give me your address.” He scanned Cassie, then Bonnie in the backseat. “Seat belts. Now.”
“In the backseat?” Bonnie said—again, without thinking.
Roman cocked that same daring eyebrow he’d used on her in the house.
This time it didn’t work, and her sass got the better of her. “Seriously? A mobster enforcing seat belt protocol?”
A faint gasp stirred from Cassie, but Roman’s expression lightened. Not a smile by any stretch, but something about his eyes said she’d almost earned one.
He shifted enough to anchor one arm on the back of his seat and the other on the top of the steering wheel. Without a tie, the action stretched the opening of his shirt enough to show some kind of script tattooed high on his sternum with more artwork just below it. “Whoever took your brother and father appear to be gone, but I cannot guarantee no one is watching. If they are and they choose to follow us, I’ll be inclined to lose them. I’d rather not have your body bouncing around the backseat to distract me.”
Fuck, but she wanted to see the rest of that ink. Especially on the backdrop of his rich olive skin with all that muscle beneath it. Talk about a sweet canvas.
“Miss Drummond,” he said.
The humor in his tone hammered through her distraction enough to shake her from her thoughts.
Shit.
Totally busted.
This time he did smile, though it was closer to a wolf’s grin. “Are you going to buckle up?”
“I think I should have done that about an hour ago,” she murmured mostly to herself, then reached for the belt.
He waited until she was situated, then nodded and faced forward. Starting the truck, he checked all around them, then put the gearshift in drive. “One more thing, Miss Drummond,” he said with his eyes on her in the rearview mirror. “We prefer bratva.”
“Huh?” Bonnie glanced from Roman to Cassie.
Cassie chuckled, but also looked utterly delighted. “He’s messing with you because you called him a mobster,” Cassie said over her shoulder.
“Um.” Okay, it had been a crass thing to say. Not to mention founded on newsroom gossip—even if he did fit the image perfectly. “Sorry. I’m snarky on even my best days, but today’s been a killer.”
Shit.
Bad word to use.
“I mean, not a killer literally. But I’ve had better days.” She ground her teeth together and gave up keeping her nervous jiggling knee in check. “I’m just gonna shut up now.”
Cassie giggled, a light and carefree sound that seemed off-kilter with the rest of Bonnie’s day. “Girl, you crack me up. But I told you—it’s all going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Roman drove them out of the parish and onto I-10, his gaze alert and constantly shifting for signs of being followed. Cassie, God love her, made it her mission to set Bonnie at ease through all manner of casual questions. What had been going on since they last talked? How was her dad’s health? Had anything interesting happened at the station?
All of which garnered the same answers as usual—not much, still awful and nothing would ever top Cassie leaving the dog-eat-dog world of reporting to marry a hot Russian.
Under other circumstances, the light chatter might have actually uncoiled some of the tension knotting her stomach. But every time she dared a glance at the rearview mirror, she’d catch Roman looking at her with those awesome gray eyes. The man didn’t even have the grace to look away and act guilty when she caught him either. Just held her stare a second longer than was comfortable before going back to focusing on the road and weaving between cars on the highway.
Yep. Total badass.
Which was unfortunate, because every badass she’d ever known had also been a complete jerk—a fact she’d learned by falling for them and getting screwed over in more ways than she could count.
Just off the Pontchartrain Expressway, St. Charles Avenue bustled with ten times the cars and people they’d left behind in Desire. “So...umm... Roman. How long are you thinking your research is going to take you?”