CLEAN to the BONE

by Heather R. Blair

  “The forearm.”

  Lucjan’s lips twisted, then he finished his brandy. “It is as I suspected. And it changes nothing.”

  “It does for me.” Jake lifted the gun. “You need to tell me who was lending his men to Darnell. If he was using one of these ‘sixes,’ then someone somewhere knows something. Either I can find out myself, or you can share what you already know.” Jake got to his feet, the cock of the hammer loud over the strains of Paganini’s ‘La Campanella.’

  “You won’t shoot me.” Lucjan poured more brandy, his hand rock steady.

  “Sure of that, are you?”

  “Sadly, no. But they are.” Before Jake could blink, he was surrounded. He hadn’t even heard the creak of the door, or footsteps. One second they were alone and the next they were not. He could barely see Lucjan through the bodies, but their eyes met.

  “You knew.”

  “I know the stink of desperation on a man,” Lucjan said, waving a hand. “The look in the eyes.”

  In seconds, Jake was back in the chair, the gun knocked away. A fist caught him in the face, a glancing blow that nevertheless split his lip. Lucjan slapped a hand on the desk.

  “Stójcie! No blood, he is family.”

  The men around him pulled back, but hard hands remained on his shoulders, more than one muzzle pointed at his head.

  “Family? Is that what you call this?” Jake spit blood-laced saliva onto Lucjan’s carpet. “I thought you loved my sister, but you’ve been playing her all along.”

  Lucjan pressed his lips together as he waved the men off. “Idźcie precz.”

  One of Lucjan’s men set Jake’s gun on the desk in front of his boss. As soon as they were gone, Lucjan leaned over the desk, his eyes glittering in the low light. “It is because of how I love Nastka that I’ve worked to keep you both as far from this Darnell as possible. You cannot find him, you will not touch him. Ever.”

  “We tagged him in the States.”

  “Ah yes, when you got shot.” Lucjan gave him a hard look. “And you did not tag him, you merely got close to a subordinate. And even then I had to rescue you, no?”

  Jake frowned. “You were watching us that night?”

  “Why do you think Matthias was able to respond so quickly? You are lucky it was him on the ground. Not all my men are such excellent medics.”

  “How long have you worked for Darnell?”

  Lucjan’s spine stiffened. “I told you, I do not work for him. I have long been done with Bratva. I have never even seen this man. Only heard the rumors.” He snorted, took another drink of brandy. “He has his quirks, like many men. He wants to be seen as elegant. A man of refined tastes. Sophistication. So he dabbles in the arts. But it’s not who he is. He runs guns. For a time it was drugs, too. But now only the guns. More money in it and less risk. He is untouchable.”

  “No one is untouchable.” Jake accepted the handkerchief Lucjan tossed his way and pressed it to his lip. “I’ll find a way.”

  “Are you not listening? Going after him is suicide.” Lucjan threw the pistol at him as well. “You might as well put a bullet in your head right now, because that is where you’re going to end up if you pursue this.”

  “I won’t quit.”

  “You must.”

  Jake laughed, harsh and bitter. “You want me to just give up? I watched my mother die, you son of a bitch. Watched her raped, beaten and shot in the fucking head.”

  “And you wish to see the same happen to my Nastka?” Lucjan’s words were low and hard. “Or perhaps your little artist?”

  Jake’s head came up. “That’s what they were after in New Orleans, wasn’t it? He’s trying to hurt her because of me.”

  It wasn’t a question. Lucjan didn’t pretend it was. His eyes were cold. “They won’t stop. He won’t stop—not until you do. Give up on Darnell and get your life back, Kuba.”

  “I can’t.” But his shoulders slumped. “I . . . can’t.”

  Lucjan leaned forward. “Think on this. Think hard. Sometimes revenge does not pay a debt, but only incurs others. Unless you are willing to pay them all—to watch others pay them—you need to walk away.”

  “And you would let someone do this to your family, you would let them go unpunished—”

  Lucjan’s teeth ground together and his hand slapped down hard on his desk. “I pick my battles. This one cannot be won in the way you have imagined.”

  Jake frowned. There was something odd in the other man’s tone.

  While his own eyes narrowed in question, Lucjan’s stayed steady and hard and unreadable, as did his voice. “The only way to best this Darnell is to be happy. To live the life your mother would have wanted for you.”

  Jake closed his eyes. “I’ll never know what my mother wanted for me.”

  “That is a lie. She loved you, did she not?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do loving mothers want for their sons but love in return? A happy life. A good life. Not this life. You have pushed the boundaries, most recently at my request, but you can still get out. It is not too late for you.”

  Lucjan’s face was dark, inscrutable but Jake wondered, for the first time ever, if Lucjan had ever thought about getting out. If that was part of why he had let Stacia leave him, why he’d not tried harder to pull her back.

  Then Jake thought of Charlie and what he felt beginning between them. He could have Charlie, or he could continue to chase Darnell.

  But he could not have both. That was what Lucjan was trying to tell him.

  “Let Darnell go, my brother,” Lucjan said softly. “Men like him will meet a bad end, with or without your help. It is their destiny.”

  Does that include you? Jake almost asked, but he held his tongue instead and got to his feet. He dropped the handkerchief to the desk. “She isn’t mine, you know. Charlie.”

  Lucjan smiled, his first true smile since Jake had walked through his door. “Then make her yours.”

  “I thought love was stupid.”

  “Oh it is. But that stupidity is the only thing that has ever made life worth living.”

  Jake shook his head and headed for the door.

  “Kuba.”

  He looked back over his shoulder.

  Lucjan was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “What will you tell Nastka about our talk?”

  “The truth.” Then he touched his lip and winced. “Or most of it.”

  Lucjan nodded, then poured himself another glass of brandy, staring into the glass with the air of a man who would have happily drowned himself in it.

  “And, Lucjan?”

  His brother-in-law glanced up, the harsh light on his face making him look a decade older.

  “Thank you. For not killing me.”

  Lucjan laughed softly, staring back into his brandy. “As I said, you’re family.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The Met was lit up like a golden beacon. It could have passed for a temple of old. Charlie followed Stacia out of the limo, trying not to shake or snag her dress. The sheath was white shot with gold, and it hugged her curves with in a way Charlie would have never allowed a few short months ago. Her wrap floated around her shoulders in a diaphanous gold. She clutched at it as Stacia dismissed the car.

  “Wow.” Charlie’s whisper was awed as she looked up at the famous building with its marble pillars and wide steps.

  “It is pretty impressive.” Stacia was her own usual impressive and elegant self, draped in midnight-blue velvet. Then she smiled. “But wait until you see the Louvre.”

  “I’m not booked for the damn Louvre.” Charlie gave an amused laugh, which died away when Stacia raised an eyebrow.

  “Yet. They’re doing a modern art showing early next spring. I’ve already been bending some ears.” As Charlie sucked in a breath and stumbled over her own feet, Stacia laced their arms together with a chuckle and pulled her toward the stairs. “Never say never, woman. Six months ago, could you imagine standing here? Knowing your paint
ings were inside?”

  The Met wasn’t Charlie’s show, but two of her paintings had been picked for an exhibition on modern painters. Stacia was definitely earning her keep. Of course, the art world had its fickle side, and all this could be nothing but a dream a year from now.

  A wonderful dream. Some parts of it anyway. She pressed her lips together. Nope. Not tonight. She wasn’t going to think about him tonight.

  A sudden stiffness in Stacia’s spine drew Charlie’s eyes around. Even before she saw him, she knew. Jake stepped into the light, smiling gently. Her expression went blank. Deliberately, she looked away as Stacia stepped forward.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jake’s sister lean up and kiss his cheek, but Jake was staring over her head at Charlie. Their gazes caught. Held.

  When Stacia pulled away from her brother, the woman glanced at the two of them, then huffed out a breath. “Let’s pretend I see someone important I have to go talk to, all shall we? I’ll catch you kids later.”

  Silence descended, awkward and thick. For once, Jake’s silver tongue seemed to fail him. He said nothing, just watched her, his expression unreadable. Her palms itched and she had a sudden urge to slap him.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “So—”

  “You left.”

  He winced. “There was something I needed to take care of. Charlie, I . . .”

  As quickly as it had come, her urge to lash out vanished. She felt tired. Just tired. What did it matter anyway? Jake wasn’t hers, he’d never be hers.

  Her phone buzzed with a text. The show was beginning.

  She glanced back at him, forcing a smile that felt cold and stiff on her lips. “Well, then, you shouldn’t mind if I use the same excuse.” Her chin lifted as she turned her back to him, the click of her heels loud in her own ears as she strode away.

  * * *

  Charlie had a better time at the show than she’d expected. Hobnobbing was never going to come as naturally to her as it did to Jake and Stacia, but at least the abject terror was gone. Of course, it might have been that her disappointment with Jake had numbed her normal nerves.

  Her lips tightened.

  How dare he. Showing back up as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t shared a piece of her soul with him just to have him . . .

  Do what people always did. Let her down.

  Stupid girl.

  Well, thankfully she wouldn’t have to see Jake again tonight. One of her new admirers had invited them to a private party. Stacia had been thrilled, Charlie less so. Especially when she found it was to be a pool party. Seriously, those had never gone over well, even in high school.

  At least it was an excuse to stay away from Jake.

  She shook her head and made her way farther from the main crowd. This place was magnificent, though she found it a little sickening people lived like this. Pools of every shape and size were scattered throughout the huge structure. But not pools like at your typical YMCA. Oh, she supposed there was an Olympic-sized one somewhere about, but mostly they were small glittering lagoons, landscaped like they were outside in some tropical night. Stars even shone ahead, courtesy of a dome to rival any planetarium.

  The pebbled path was smooth and cool under her bare feet as she made her way through the milling people.

  Her eyes were cast down, one hand clutching a wobbling pile of warm towels to her hip. Her almost bare hip.

  What had she been thinking, letting Stacia talk her into this ridiculous suit? It wasn’t a bikini, which she’d flatly refused, but Stacia only used that refusal to force what she called “a compromise”: a tankini. In screaming red, with deep side cutouts that left most of her navel bare. The laughable “tank” part of it was a lethal scarlet ruffle that pretended at demure, falling from the dip of her cleavage to skim the middle of her tummy until it managed to cling lightly to her hips just in time to avoid legal issues.

  She laughed when Stacia told her to buy it. “Please. I’m way too average to pull this off. And that is just fine by me.”

  Stacia’s jaw tightened in that way it did when she was going to dig her four-inch ice-pick heels in. “Even if that were true, which it’s not, I don’t believe that the woman who painted those canvases of yours can ever be satisfied with average.”

  Charlie pursed her lips. “I don’t like being the center of attention.”

  “Why the hell not?” Stacia flicked her waterfall of black silk over one shoulder, looking back at Charlie in the mirror with one eyebrow raised.

  Charlie shook her head. Stacia could never understand. She was a woman born for the spotlight. Not Charlie. Attention was dangerous. But somehow the infernal woman had talked her into buying the stupid suit and she didn’t have another.

  With a fervent sigh of relief, she darted behind a thick jungle wall to find a small pool hidden away from the rest of the party. There was no one in sight. She dropped the towels and sat down by the pool’s edge, drawing her knees to her chin. Alone at last.

  She let out a grateful sigh and leaned back on her elbows.

  A splash from the pool had her snapping upright again. It was someone surfacing from beneath the water. A man, his head thrown back, taking a deep breath.

  Wet hair rippled down to lick darkly at the sculpted muscles of his shoulders, slick black hair that matched the shadow on his jaw, the sprinkling over his deep, powerful chest. She wrapped her arms back around her knees and cursed.

  Jake turned his head, shaking like a big dog, with just as much lazy indifference. Water droplets sprinkled over her like falling rain.

  She should’ve known he’d wangle an invite. Damn the charming bastard.

  “What are you doing here, Jake?”

  “Trying to make up with you, of course.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” With another vile curse, she yanked one of the towels from the snow-white mound that had fallen around her.

  “Oh now, that’s quite a mouth you’ve got there, Ms. Gracen.” For some reason, Jake seemed amused, his blue-gray eyes dancing over hers, darkening as they fell to her lips for an instant, before dipping lower. “And quite the togs you’re hiding under that towel.” He raised an eyebrow and kicked over to the edge of the pool, pushing up on his elbows as he watched her. The movement made every bronzed muscle in his upper body flex and roll. Her mouth went dry. Even as her lips thinned in anger.

  “I’m not hiding my togs or anything else.”

  Jake threw his head back and laughed. So long and loud conversations nearby stumbled to a stop before amused voices continued on.

  “Togs is just a word for swimsuit, you grumpy little shit. What did you think I meant?”

  “Fuck you, Jake.” She threw off the towel and glared at him. It was a look he didn’t return as his eyes became very quickly preoccupied. She could practically feel the weight of his gaze on her skin as he took in his fill of her. She was flushing before that stormy gaze lifted back to hers.

  “I do believe I offered. An offer that was declined. Vigorously, as I recall. I’m prepared to up my bid, though.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. Jake’s jaw tightened as the movement had her breasts nearly spilling from the scrap of vibrant red fabric. She dropped her arms again, blushing furiously. “Oh for heaven’s sake. We both know you don’t give a damn about me. You’ve proved that.”

  “You’re so very wrong, darl.” The sincerity in the low words startled her. But she refused to accept them. Refused to let him sneak past her guard again.

  “Am I?” she sneered. “I know how it feels to be discarded quite well. You might recall I told you as much. Or maybe you’ve forgotten that conversation already.”

  His face fell and his voice went soft. “Charlie. I was an arse. I left it to Stacia to explain because I had to . . . take care of some things.” He took a deep breath. “Not that that’s any excuse. But then I didn’t think I could do this properly on the phone—”

  “Doesn’t seem like you’re doing any better in p
erson,” she muttered.

  “—and then it took me a while to figure out what I wanted myself. But I know now.”

  “Do you? Plan on clueing me in anytime soon?”

  “You.” That one word was spoken so fiercely she froze in place. “That’s what I want.”

  She rolled her eyes, forcing an impatient snort that fluffed her bangs. “Sure, you do.”

  He frowned and gripped the edge of the tile. “If I get out of this pool, woman, you’ll see exactly how serious I am about wanting you.”

  Her breath hitched as they locked eyes. The burn of honesty in his scorched her.

  A tendril of flame slid down her body, licking over her breasts, tightening her nipples before working its way deep into her belly and lower. Her throat closed and she had to swallow before she could speak again.

  “Stay in the water, please.” Her voice was a scratchy whisper. “Jesus, Jake. You don’t play fair.”

  His nose wrinkled as he gave her a slow grin. “Hell no. I play to win.”

  He stretched out an arm, clasping one big hand over her calf. “Give me another chance. You won’t regret it.” He stroked her skin with his thumb, watching her face before pulling her closer with a jerk that had her squealing in surprise as her bottom bumped lightly over the tile laid at the water’s edge.

  She opened her mouth, intending to protest further.

  “Shhh,” he hushed her in a rough growl that had her biting her lip.

  Jake yanked her closer yet, until his body was floating between her outstretched legs dangling in the water on either side of him. His palms were warm on the bare skin just above her hips, his eyes level with her breasts as he treaded water, his arms brushing her inner thighs.