Except one that I keep aside.
Mikhail is the youngest member of the Bratva leadership, and also one of the most aggressive and ambitious. He was the underboss for Boston’s family leader, but was promoted last year when his boss was assassinated.
Resting a hand on Mikhail’s shoulder, I say, “I’d like your help.”
I see the surprise in his eyes. It’s quickly followed by pride.
“Thank you. Anything.”
“I discovered an unsanctioned online gaming operation based in Lake Tahoe. They’re one of ours, but haven’t been tithing.”
“What do you need me to do?”
I wave Stavros forward from where he’s been standing, waiting, near the door. He comes hesitantly, wringing his hands.
“Get an accounting of total revenue going as far back as they’ve been operational. They owe half to Maxim. Have them send it to me no later than Monday next week. Then put them on a monthly schedule of twenty percent going forward.”
“And if they can’t come up with the money?”
I hesitate. This would be so much easier if Stavros wasn’t involved with Natalie’s friend.
If that were the case and he couldn’t produce the money, I’d cut off one of his fingers and toes for each day of delay until he did.
And if it went past ten days, I’d start cutting off other stuff.
“Don’t worry about that now. Just make sure he understands what the consequences will be if he fucks up again.”
It’s not like he doesn’t already know, but it never hurts to underline these things.
I send Mikhail off to meet Stavros. Then I head out of the warehouse to the car waiting for me outside. As soon as I’m inside the Bentley, I reach for my cell phone.
Miss you already. XOXO
My wish was granted: the text is from Natalie.
An image of her smiling face flashes through my mind. Then another image surfaces, a memory of her naked and flushed underneath me with her eyes closed and her lips parted, a bruise from my greedy mouth darkening a spot on her slender neck.
A steel band winches itself around my heart. Exhaling a heavy breath, I murmur, “Miss you too, baby.”
As my driver steers the car out of the deserted parking lot and onto the main street, I dial her number, waiting impatiently for her to pick up.
On the third ring, she does.
“Hi!”
She sounds happy to hear from me. The winch tightens.
“I hear you miss me.”
“It’s strangely dull around here without a bossy Russian barking orders at me. Go figure.”
“You like it when I bark orders at you.”
“Only when we’re in bed.”
I picture her blindfolded and restrained, sucking my dick and rocking her hips as I slide the vibrator in and out of her soaked pussy, and almost groan out loud with want.
My voice drops. “I’m ready to give you a few orders right now. Get into bed.”
She laughs breathlessly. “I would, but Sloane’s here. That could be awkward.”
“She’s back from her trip.”
“Yeah. She broke it off with Stavros…but you probably already know that.”
I didn’t, but I’m glad I do now. Makes things less complicated if he doesn’t come up with the money for Max. “You’re having a girls’ night?”
“We ordered pizza. Opened a bottle or two of wine. So yes, I guess that means we’re having a girls’ night. What are you up to tonight?”
I drag a hand through my hair, lean my head back against the headrest, and close my eyes. My voice soft, I say, “Wishing I had my face buried between your sweet thighs.”
She must hear the longing in my tone, all the longing and desperate need, because her voice grows worried. “Are you okay?”
I answer truthfully. “No.”
Her voice rises. “What’s wrong?”
“I left something in California.”
“What?”
“My heart, baby. My cold, dead, worthless heart, which didn’t even beat before I met you.”
There’s a period of silence, then she whispers, “I’m in love with you.”
Now I do groan out loud.
She just shot an arrow through my chest. I’m fucking dead.
“I didn’t say it when you were here because…well, mostly because you were telling me to. Demanding, actually. You know how you get—”
“Say it again.”
Her laugh is soft and warm. “See? Demanding.”
“Please. Please, say it again.”
She must hear the pain in my voice, because all the laughter and teasing is gone when she speaks next. Her voice is solemn and quiet.
“I’m in love with you, Kage. I love you. Hopelessly. I thought I knew what it meant to be in love before, but it was never like this. It’s like the lights go out when you walk out of the house. Like my lungs only work when you’re with me. I’m…kind of lost, actually. I don’t know how to handle it. All I want is to be with you all the time—”
After a short pause, she comes back on the line, sounding contrite. “I’m sorry. It’s the wine. I swear I didn’t mean for that to be so…so…”
“Perfect,” I growl, my throat as tight as my chest.
This is never going to work.
I can’t be away from her. I can’t concentrate. My head is full of nothing but her, when it’s supposed to be focused on everything else. I’m leading my men into war, and I hardly care what happens.
Nothing means anything anymore.
Except her.
The woman who’d pay with her life if our two worlds ever collided.
The woman whose sweet love would turn to burning hate if she discovered my duplicity.
The woman I can’t live with, but I also can’t live without.
We’re quiet for a moment, until she says softly, “It’ll be here, waiting for you. Your heart, that is. I’ll take care of it while you’re gone. But you need to do me a favor.”
“Name it.”
“You have to take care of mine, because you took it with you when you left.”
After I recover, I murmur, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell me you love me again.”
I hear the smile in her voice when she answers. “I love you, bossy man. You’re my life now. Come back to me soon.”
I have to disconnect without answering.
I can’t.
Because for the first time since I was a boy, I’m fighting back tears.
32
Nat
After that night, three days go by when I don’t hear from him. I want to call, but keep stopping in the middle of dialing.
He’s going to war, I remind myself sternly. The man is busy.
I get a brief text on day four: Dreamt of you last night.
When I text him back asking what the dream was about, he doesn’t answer.
By day six, I’m obsessing nonstop.
He’s dead. He’s been shot. Stabbed. Poisoned. He’s been captured by the police or the FBI. Something has gone horribly wrong, and I’ll never know what, I’ll just be left with no answers and no way of finding out what happened to him.
The feeling is eerily familiar.
Still, I hear nothing.
Still, I wait.
School starts again. Teaching is a welcome relief from the mania that overtakes me when I’m home alone. In the middle of the second week of no contact with Kage, I start painting in a frenzy, producing more work in three days than I have all year.