Her place is trashed. Her television is gone. The kitchen drawers all stand open like they’ve been searched. I creep forward, listening closely for any sounds. The bedroom has also been trashed—her dresser drawers pulled out and upended, things scattered everywhere.
I search the place thoroughly before I go back out to the hallway where I find Chelle standing pale and trembling. She looks at the gun in my hand with bug eyes.
Dammit.
“Looks like a burglary. They took your TV and searched all your stuff. Probably looking for jewelry or cash. They’ve gone now.”
“Oh God. What should we do?”
“Call your brother first.”
She blinks at me. “Wh-why?”
I take her phone from her cold fingers, pull up Zane’s number, and press the call button. I hold it out to her. “Find out if he knows anything about this.”
Her golden eyes grow even wider, and she lets out her breath on a small sob.
Zane answers, which I didn’t expect. “Chelle?” he sounds alarmed.
I don’t like it.
“Zane? My place has been trashed. They stole my TV, and I don’t know what else.”
“Fuck! Where are you now? Are you there? Is Nikolai with you?”
I grab the phone from Chelle’s hand, a white-hot rage burning through me. “What did you do, Zane?” I snap.
“Nikolai.” Zane sounds breathless. “Get my sister out of there, would you? Keep her safe.”
“What in the fuck is going on?” I snarl. I am seriously going to kill that kid for doing this to Chelle.
“I, ah, I had a drug deal going on, but the shit got stolen. Now I’m into the dealer for the cost of goods.”
“A drug deal with who?”
I watch Chelle mouth the word, whom, while her eyes stare straight forward, like she’s shell-shocked and scared.
“Not your problem.”
“You just made it my fucking problem when they came after Chelle,” I snarl.
“You’re the one who came after Chelle!” Zane thunders back. “You took my sister. I’m trying to buy her back, you insane fucking Russian. So just get her out of there, and I’ll get you your damn money!” He ends the call before I can rip him a new one, and I hold the phone against my chest like that will somehow shield Chelle from what she just heard.
Blyad.’
Zane is right. I took his sister. I triggered all of this by bringing her into the equation. And even though this is completely consensual on her part, I made veiled threats about harming her from the beginning, so Zane’s assumption of the worst is on me.
Fuckity fuck fuck.
Chelle’s chin starts to shiver, and I pull her slender body against mine. “It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of your apartment. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Shouldn’t we call the cops?”
“No. I’ll replace your stuff, okay? Don’t worry about any of it.” I close the door as best I can, turn her around and maneuver her down the hall, still tucked tightly against my side.
“Are you going to explain to me what’s happening?” Her voice quavers, and it kills me.
“Zane is trying to rescue you from me and whatever he did backfired.”
“Is he in danger?” Alarm peals through her words.
“Ah… yes, probably.” It’s not fair to lie to her. “But you’re in more danger.” I know how this shit works. I’m usually the guy shaking people down for money. They’ll leave Zane free and hold his sister hostage for payment.
I hustle her down the stairs, my hand on the pistol in my waistband in case we meet anyone along the way. “I will help Zane when I know you’re safe,” I promise reluctantly. The douche doesn’t deserve saving, but I can’t stand Chelle being frantic over his safety.
Besides, the danger to her won’t end until Zane’s problem is solved.
I get her into my car and take off, going zero to sixty in under four seconds—my favorite reason for having a Tesla.
“I’m sorry, Chelle,” I say. I don’t want to apologize. I want to blame it all on Zane, but he’s right. I played a part in this shit.
I feel her golden-eyed gaze on the side of my face but don’t look because I’m weaving in and out of cars, racing to get back to the Kremlin where Chelle will be safe.
“What are you sorry for?” Her voice is a hoarse whisper, like she’s terrified of hearing my answer.
“Involving you,” I say. “I never would have hurt you, zayka. I don’t harm the innocent. But I made Zane think I would. Now he’s acted out of desperation to save you from me.”
She lets out an audible breath. “What did he do?” The break in her voice kills me.
“I don’t know.” I grind my teeth. “I’m going to find out, and I will take care of it. I’ll protect you both.”
Chelle drags in a terraced breath and then lets out a whimper, like she’s trying to keep from crying.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat because hearing her anguish makes me want to burn this entire city down.
When I get her home, she gets in the shower, and I try to call Zane, but the little asshole doesn’t pick up. I call one of our soldiers and ask him to go over to Chelle’s place and fix the door. “Bring back-up,” I warn.
Chelle stays in the shower so long I figure she’s turned into a raisin. I enter the bathroom and push open the glass door to my huge walk-in shower. She’s huddled under the water, her shoulder propped against the tile wall. She’s not crying, but she looks lost.
“Zayka,” I murmur and strip out of my clothes to join her. I’ve fucked her in this shower before. Taken her roughly against these walls. But this time is different. This time I just hold her. I hold her and kiss her head. And after a stretch, I maneuver her under the spray and wash her hair.
“Nikolai,” she moans the way she does when we’re having sex, only this time it sounds more broken. Lost.
“It’s okay, Freckles. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Is it?” She turns and searches my face, and I know she’s asking about more than Zane. She’s asking something about us, only I don’t know what the question is, so I don’t know how to answer.
Does she want us to be something more?
Could she be with a man like me?
Or is she saying she can’t do this anymore? I saw the way she stared at the gun in my hand, like she was terrified to see it. Like it was a snake that might bite her, rather than a tool to protect her.
I pick up the bar of soap and run it over her breasts, soaping them until she moans and falls against me for a different reason. I slide it down her belly, soap her ass, then squat to soap both her legs. Then I pin her against the shower wall and lick her until she screams.
When her orgasm is over, I pick her up and carry her out of the shower. I sit her on the counter and grab a towel from the rack.
“Everything is going to be okay, little bunny,” I promise, wrapping her and drying her soft skin. I’ll pay off Zane’s debts. I won’t let anyone touch you. I promise.”
“Why?” Chelle asks.
I should tell her.
I should explain what she means to me. That she’s the light in the dark corridor. She’s the magnetic axis I want to orbit around. She fills the vacuous spaces of my life.