“Did she ever tell you about her plans?” Donovan takes over abruptly. He’s a fuck-bag if I ever met one. Talking to him is useless since he’ll use whatever it takes to bring home a conviction.
I roll my shoulders back. All this sitting is extremely uncomfortable with wounds subjected to surgery three days ago. Or is it four? Without a phone, I don’t know what century it even is.
“My mother’s been dead to me for over fifteen years. I recently found out she’s alive. The same day all this,” I motion to my bandages, “happened. Do you honestly think she’d tell me anything?”
“If she wants a relationship with her daughter, then yes,” Sully responds for the duo.
This Sully character is smarter than he seems. I’d guess psychology as his major in college. His keen blue eyes watch me beneath perfectly aligned blond eyebrows. For certain, he’s edible, but too innocent. If history taught me anything, criminal masterminds are more my style.
If I tell these guys what I know, I’m not guaranteed a fucking thing. The urge to ask about Eddie tears at my insides, but I refrain. I need to stay mute. If they knew my genuine connection, I’d be ushered to the nearest hole in the wall dungeon and left to rot.
“Mishka, what do you know?” The way Sully says my name reminds me of when Eddie first said it. Damn him!
Stray tears threaten my eyes, but I command them to stay in place. There’s no way I’m breaking in front of these guys or any agents. Plus, I think my eye ducts have gotten enough action in the last month.
“She and Demetri Kain were planning on decimating the Russian mafia to replace it with a new one. They called it the Vory.”
“How were they going to do this?” Donovan jumps in a little too eager.
I give him a wary glance. “Alena mentioned the removal of a politician. It’s all I know.”
Sitting back, my stitches pull angrily at my action. The FBI refused to give me any drugs, so I feel every ounce of pain emanating through my body. The bastards might as well continuously shoot me. It’d be over quicker.
Sully nods to Donovan then heads to the door. “Fine. If that’s all you’re going to say, we’re done.”
“What about me?” I ask, not completely caring what answer meets my ears. Sooner or later, they’ll dump me in a prison cell. From there, I’ll be the latest torture victim.
“If it was up to me, you’d be on your way to Guantanamo,” Donovan shoots, slipping through the door.
Sully pauses in the doorway, his stance relaxed. For a man who holds my life in his hands, he’s awful cavalier about it.
He lets the door close then returns to me. His voice softens in confused reverence, “There’s one more person who needs to talk to you before we decide your fate.”
“And who might he be?”
My muscles ache the more I sit in the same position. I’m not in the mood to be tossed from one FBI agent to another until they’ve had their fill of Alena Vald’s daughter.
I caught more than one rookie agent staring at me while I slept in the hospital. The creeps are curious about me. I’d be snooping too, but I wouldn’t gawk in the motherfucking doorway. Hello, stealth, people!
“Regrettably, not even I know.” He carefully unlocks the handcuffs and shoves them in his pocket. “But whoever it is, they have more pull than us.”
He flips the camera off and proceeds to the door. Tossing me a curious look, he ducks out of the room and latches the door behind him.
So, he un-cuffs me, but makes sure the door is locked. Makes perfect sense.
I rub my tender wrists and stand. My body shrieks for doing the simple act. Never have I experienced such discomfort, but then again, I don’t make it a point to get clipped.
Sticky warmth on my stomach grabs my attention, and I look down to see the hem of my shirt soaked in blood. Oh, goody, the stitches popped.
This whole getting shot thing is extremely overrated. I tear back the bandage to review the wound. It’s not infected, but looks irritated. I glance around the room, but find it lacking any medical remedy.
Walking to the double-sided window, I lean my head against it. The schmucks shouldn’t be staring and doing nothing.
“I could use a medic.” No response comes from the other side, so I slap the window. Bleeding out in here would be funny to them. I guess it’s what I get for being the spawn of a wanted Russian infiltrator.
Twenty minutes tick by while I pace the tiny room. I ran out of water fifteen minutes ago, but amble around the room to pass the time. My mind grows fuzzy the longer I stand. Sitting doesn’t sound like a better option. Sweat drips off my forehead as blood seeps through my shirt. I’ll pass out soon if this continues.
Just when I am about ready to break down and throw a chair at the window, the door swings open. Twirling around, I stifle a cry of relief. Standing in the doorway is Edward Harper. The handsome bastard isn’t dead.
“Eddie,” I greet breathlessly, because of the blood loss not because I care. All right, perhaps a little.
He looks worse for wear, but he’s in front of me. At least, I think he is. With all the blood on my shirt, he could be the freaking president for all I know. His face is a tad white and his stance strained, but his blue eyes solidify my discovery. “You’re alive?”
Eddie shuts the door and nods. His gaze latches with mine, and I resist rushing over to him like a love-struck girl. I’m not like that. Well, I tell myself I’m not.
Instead, I stare at him. Hauling him into my embrace and crooning lovely musings sounds perfect, but I wasn’t made to fawn. He knows it. I know it. And now we’re at a Mexican standoff. Nachos sound good. Ooh, and a margarita. God, I’m dying all over again.
“Yep, I’m alive,” he opens the conversation, remaining in his spot.
Neither of us moves. Any other time, I expect Eddie to swoop me into his arms and kiss me senseless. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even say thank you for saving his sorry ass. What a dick.
The apprehension in his movements frightens me. His straight shoulder force me to believe he’s here on official business. I’m merely an asset in need of conquering. I drop his hold and peer at my feet. The shoes the FBI gave me are too small and fugly, but it beats staring into an unknown future.
“I wasn’t sure you made it.” His voice is complacent, so I look up.
He runs a careless tongue over his dry lips. He needs to stop. As if hearing my thoughts, Eddie flicks his gaze to me then runs a hand through his short hair.
“When were you planning to tell me about your association with the CIA?”
My eyes bulge at his quiet question. I’m so busted. Fuck motherfucking bastard cunt bitch! No one, especially not the FBI, was supposed to find out about my informant status.
Eddie rifles through the folder in his hands. When did he get that? He could’ve been holding a bomb, and I wouldn’t have noticed. I’m too busy losing blood over here to see what’s in his grip. His eyes are wide and jaw set. He’s pissed. I probably should’ve told him.
“You should’ve told me.” He tosses the folder to the floor and the papers fly this way and that. “I could’ve protected you.”
As he continues, my body refuses to hold me up. I wobble on my feet. The operation and re-opened stitches catch up to me all at once. Straining to stay afloat, I hold my breath. To my worst surprise, something else causes me to fall into a heap on the floor. Eddie’s speaking Russian. Not a passable Russian to find out where the nearest bathroom is, mind you, but authentic Russian that takes years to master.
I’m stunned beyond belief. Not only does he know I’m an asset for the CIA, but he also speaks my first language. After years of speaking Russian in front of Eddie, he could understand the whole time. What kind of man is he? He didn’t learn it to impress me, did he?
An unknown fear grips my belly. I peek down, thinking I’ll see a monster erupting from me. Nope, just the wound. I predict Eddie will reprimand me for my governmental involvement, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t murm
ur a word.
“Good to know you speak Russian,” I spitefully charge from the floor. I don’t want to get up if it means I discover more secrets this man hid from me. The cold floor is a relief as my body temperature soars. No doubt, I resemble a raggedy doll covered in sweat and blood. A real boner inflictor.
Eddie reaches down and grabs my hand, but I flick it out of his reach. He doesn’t respond in malice, but squats down beside me instead. His countenance is serene once more. Apparently, he got over me lying to him faster than I’m getting over his deceit.
“Let me help you.”
His sweet voice washes over me in waves. I’d be a fool to reject him, but the tenderness sets me on edge.
Lifting my eyes, I identify understanding in his blue depths. He isn’t mad. In fact, his lips are curled in a half-smile. That is the Eddie I fell in love with. I reluctantly nod, and he tugs me to my feet.
“I guess we both kept a few secrets.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s in our lines of work.” Before I can dig into that gem, he leads me to the table with his hand on the small of my back.
“What happened? I don’t remember after passing out.” I watch as he settles into the stiff chair. His posture is pained, but his garb is professional to a fault. If he’s here to interrogate me, I’ll find a way to get the hell out. Moreover, if Eddie isn’t on my side, then I’m completely adrift from solace.
“I don’t know, to be honest. All I know is what the agents disclosed in the hospital.”
“And what is that?” I wonder aloud. He hasn’t asked me anything about my CIA entanglement. Not that I want him to.
Letting a smirk cross his face, he obliges, “From what I hear, you dragged me to an FBI car, tossed me in like a sack of potatoes, and then gunned it.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I wish I was conscious when it went down. I’m sure it was a sight.”
I stare at his relaxing demeanor. Little by little he’s becoming Eddie again and not an FBI enforcer.
“You in the appalling white dress stained with blood and bullet holes, shoving me into a car. All the while you, yourself, a bullet hole oozing.” He shakes his head. “You’re something else, Rory.”
“It was two bullets,” I correct and he raises his eyebrows. “And I didn’t plan on getting caught.” I toy with my fingernails. They’re dirty and uneven. Damned man caused those too.
“Yeah, those might’ve been my fault.” Eddie covers my hands with his. They’re warm and comforting. Two things I don’t deserve.
“I should’ve left with you instead of staying behind.” He points out, his thumb caressing my skin. “But I wanted you to get a head start.”
“I would’ve found it one way or another.” Doing my best to hide my discomfort, I cross my arms around my waist. I don’t need him to see how exposed I am. It wouldn’t lead to anything decent.
A miserable minute passes in silence. Sweat drips down my face like a whore in church. I won’t be the first to crack. Though, if my bleeding doesn’t clot soon, I’ll return to the floor’s embrace. Keeping my attention steadily stuck on the tabletop, I sense eyes on me.
Another minute ticks by and my mind hazes into delirium. Even though I don’t like asking for help, I need it. I bite the inside of my cheek when Eddie lets out a struggled breath.
“I promised myself I’d remain unbiased here, but I can’t,” he counsels quietly. “I’m supposed to be cracking you like an egg about Alena.” He shakes his head in frustration. “But I can’t and I won’t.”
I lift my eyes to his face. He doesn’t look the best, but he’s the same sexy guy I love. “I told Donovan and Sully all I know.”
“Sure.” A pregnant pause settles in the room.
Eddie lets out a huff. “Don’t think I am going to forget what I found out about you.” I snap my gaze to the folder on the floor. “I can’t forget that shit, Rory. They have file cabinets full of information on you and your mother.”
Instead of rejoining, I clench my teeth. As valid as his point is, I’m not going to talk to him about my riddled past or my day job for the skhodka. By now, the FBI’s chatting with the CIA about me. What does it matter? They’ll both want to use me to find Alena. The CIA’s plan worked splendidly until the FBI butted in and ruined it. Damn Feds fucked up again.
Eddie lets out a frustrated groan. I swear he’s trying to seduce me with the way he uses those lips. “Why’d you come back for me? You would’ve made it to safety if you hadn’t.”
Hmm, how do I answer? I push back my hair, and realize I smeared blood in the process. Honesty is the best policy. I scoff at the old saying, but in this case, it’s the only option. Eddie and I deceived one another for years. Our daily conversations were disingenuous from both sides of the spectrum.
Things could’ve ended different if we were candid. Well, maybe. We deserve genuine conversation. With that thought, I’m not fond of the government agents inescapably behind the window. I glance to it and frown.
“No one is in the room. I made sure before I came in,” Eddie answers the question rotating in my brain.
I lock eyes with him then search his face for any detection of a farce. It sports a purple bruise on the left side of his jaw and an array of cuts about his eyebrows. He looks war-ridden and weary. It’s not how I desire him to be.
“Okay, then I guess I’ll believe you.” I wonder what I look like through his tantalizing eyes. Do I look like a crazed woman with a shock of blood in her hair or could it be a new fashion statement? I bet I look insane.
“Mishka, I need to know,” Eddie pleads from the opposite side of the table. “Why did you come for me?”
My name on his lips is music to my ears. He’s never said my birth name like that before. Fuck me. It’s sweet agony.
Even though if someone walked in, it’d look like we’re midway through an interrogation, my heart obliges his burning question.
“Because I love you. I went back and lugged your ass out of the burning church because I love you.” I preserve my rigid composure the best I can. “I couldn’t leave you behind, and I certainly couldn’t live with myself if something happened. Not when I could’ve helped.”
I nibble on my lip when he doesn’t react. Shit, what if he thinks I’m lying? I’m screwed in said scenario. No, I’m screwed in every scenario. The FBI isn’t going to let me waltz out of here none the wiser. The big Whigs will demand answers to questions I never thought existed.
“Was I wrong?”
Eddie scoots his chair away from the table and stands. Pacing, he violently scrubs his fingers over his face. “Not at all. I’m surprised, is all. I didn’t think you’d take a chance on me.” He pauses, searching for his next words. “Unless I meant something.”
“Of course you mean something to me, you prick,” I growl. After all these years, he thinks he’s meaningless to me? Quite the opposite.
I think about moving, but my body screams its disapproval. “You are the only, and I mean only, good thing to ever happen to me.” Eddie shoots me a quizzical brow. “Sure I hated you when the FBI swarmed Verde, but your betrayal didn’t get rid of the feelings I have for you.”
I let out an uneasy breath. If I’m going to do this, I might as well go all in. “Those feelings, God I hate myself for saying this, but those feelings are so engrained in my memory that not even the best fuck known to mankind can diminish them.”
A shrewd smirk covers his face. He knows how much of a skanky sex addict I can be.
“You might’ve tricked me; I found out you were actually trying to save me, but that’s neither here nor there, and I love you more for it.”
“You knew? When did you find out?” Eddie asked, suddenly concerned with the hidden agenda I uncovered.
I attempt to go to him. Yeah, not happening with blood racing down my pants. “I figured it out, but not too long ago.”
He offers me a puzzled expression, so I explain. “When I discovered Demetri was working with my mother in her ridiculous plot, it dawned on me tha
t you came to Verde to save me from them. You wanted Demetri and Alena behind bars, not me.”
Eddie slowly nods his head. The man thinks he’s a genius, and honestly, he is.
My breathing picks up as I push through the scorching ache in my side. “If Demetri didn’t double cross me, I never would’ve found out. You had to know. Why else would you cast your lot with him?”
“I had a hunch, but I wasn’t sure what side you were on. Even if it was the side I could never join, I needed you away from this shit storm,” Eddie clarifies. “I was content knowing you were in the arms of a man who rocked your world in the bedroom even if it meant I could never lay eyes on you again.”
This time I make it to an upright position. I had no idea how much Eddie endangered himself to secure my safety. He basically got in bed with the enemy. What kind of man puts his life on the line for someone like me?
I step toward him and lay a hand on his arm. “You could’ve died. The FBI could’ve found out about your role in my escape and then you’d be locked behind bars too. Why did you do it?”
Eddie pulls me into his arms so fast it causes my vision to blur. I smell the piquant cologne on his neck and my pain dissipates.
“Because I’m so madly in love with you that it would’ve been worth it.” He searches my eyes with his. “You’ve no idea how much it hurt to know you were falling for Dylan, er, Demetri.”
He tenderly kisses my brow. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you, and not even your birthright can change my feelings.”
“But, I’m a horrible person, Eddie. I’ve killed—”
He shushes me with his lips over mine. His kiss tastes like liberty lined with a hint of treason. He doesn’t linger, much to my chagrin, but there will be time for more later.
“I know everything, Rory, and I love you anyway. Alexei deserved much more than what you did to him. If it were me, I wouldn’t have made it easy. I would’ve dissected him until he begged for death.”
His arms tighten around me like a safety rope. I feel the blood seeping out of me, but it doesn’t matter. “I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ll love you no matter your past.”
Assassin by Day Page 25
