by Stacy Gail
And then what?
The quiet voice of reason made her pause. Where would she go? As much as it galled her to admit it, Scorpio was right. She couldn’t run from who she was. No matter where she went or how fast she ran, she’d still be the daughter of a Russian mobster.
Crazy. It was all so fucking crazy.
She had to leave. Not for her own safety; she was screwed on that score no matter where she was. No, she had to get out of Rude’s life in order to protect him. If she severed ties cleanly with him and just disappeared without any drama, he wouldn’t end up like Liam.
She had to protect him.
I’m going to fight to stay in your life, Sassy Pants, through the good and the bad.
A broken sound escaped her, and that was when she realized she was crying, and that she’d been crying for some time, if the wetness of her face was any indication. Dropping an armful of clothing into the suitcase, she sat on the edge of the bed and took slow, shuddering breaths. She’d never felt so devastated. Not even when she’d been recovering from being raped and beaten had she experienced this horrible, agonizing emptiness, an emptiness she knew would never be filled.
That emptiness was what life would be like without Rude, the man who owned her heart. To be without him was to be without life, yet still exist. She had no other choice, though. As of that moment she was toxic. To be with him was to put his life in jeopardy.
I need you to tell me that you’re going to fight for me. I swear I’ll be worth the effort, baby. I swear it.
Her breath caught, a jagged sound of soul-deep pain in the silence of the room. Oh God, she’d promised him. She’d promised to do everything she could to make their relationship work, because he was worth the effort. He was worth everything. That was why she had to get out of his life—so that he wouldn’t be in danger.
Fight for me.
She wanted to. She longed to fight to stay in his life, so much that a crushing desperation filled every corner of her. But to know her could be deadly. Liam was proof of that. She had to protect Rude. It was her problem, her mess. Her responsibility.
You don’t think you’re alone in this, do you?
The ragged, painful breaths cutting into her too-tight lungs stilled as Rude’s words reverberated through her. Alone. She’d always been alone. No one had ever helped her deal with her problems, no matter how big they were. She’d never had anybody to lean on.
She did have someone now, though. Someone who could help her. Someone she could lean on. Someone she trusted more than she trusted herself.
Rude.
Fight for me.
The frantic chaos inside her came to a quiet standstill. This wasn’t going to be easy, but that wasn’t anything new. Her whole life had been one knockout blow after another, but she’d managed. Now she didn’t have to manage alone, if that was her choice.
And it was.
She’d fight for him. If she had to dismantle the entire Russian mob with her bare hands, she would stand her ground and fucking fight for Rude, because he was right. He was worth it.
“Sass.”
She jumped at the unexpected sound of Rude’s voice, before she looked over to find him standing in the doorway. His chest rose and fell quickly, as if he’d run a mile to get to her, and the expression on his face verged on terrifying. Nevertheless, the sight of him had the same effect on her as a soothing touch, and suddenly she no longer felt like she was drowning in a sea of hopelessness.
“Sass.” His gaze flicked to the opened, half-filled suitcase and the manila envelope on the floor before he went straight to her, going onto his knees to wedge himself between her legs. One arm wrapped around her waist while his free hand cupped her cheek and forced her gaze to lock with his. “Tell me what happened.”
“I’m going to fight for you.” This, above all, was the most important thing he needed to understand. “I’m scared, and I’ll understand if you want to walk away, because you didn’t sign on for all the trouble I bring to a person’s life. But I want you to know that I’ve decided I’m not going to get out of your life, even though I know you’d be better off without me. For as long as you want me, I’ll fight to be with you. The only thing I won’t fight is you walking out the front door. I won’t stop you, if that’s what you need to do. I’ll even understand.”
“Baby, please.” His arm tightened, pulling her flush against him, and as she rested her head on his shoulder she could feel his heart pounding against her breasts. “You’re freaking me out. Tell me what happened.”
“The aviator glasses man isn’t from your background. He’s from mine. I’m so sorry about that,” she added when she felt him start. “If I had known there was this hidden landmine waiting to blow up everything in my life, I never would have gotten near you, or anyone. I don’t want anyone else hurt because of me.”
“Sassy, you’re not making sense. Did this asshole approach you again?”
She nodded. “We had a nice long chat this time around.”
She thought she heard him curse before he pressed his mouth to her ear. “What did he say?”
“I think Liam Cadwallader is dead because of me.” Again he started, and this time he backed just to search her face in scowling confusion. “Did you know he was dead? Because he’s dead. And there was Russian writing on him when he was found floating in the river. I didn’t want to believe it had anything to do with me. But it’s the only thing that makes sense, and that means you’re in danger now too. You need to know that. You need to know that being in my life puts you in danger, so I need you to know that I totally understand if you want to leave me.”
“Sass, take a breath, calm the fuck down, and tell me exactly what he said.”
He was right. She was a total babble fest. She took that deep breath and held it for a second before letting it out along with the last of the hysteria. Then she got up, retrieved the manila envelope off the floor and fished out the letter and picture of her biological mother.
“The story starts with this.” She handed him the items and resumed her place on the bed in front of him. She wanted to savor what might be the last few minutes she had left of being allowed to be this close to him. “When I was eighteen and aged out of the system, my social worker gave me my personal effects—the few things I had been left with when I was abandoned at a lawyer’s office. Along with a blanket, baby clothes and a rattle, there was a lawyer’s card with the address of a bank and the number to a safe deposit box, but no key. So, Scout and I went to see if we could find this lawyer guy. He’d since died, but the lawyer who had taken on his cases found my name in the Active files, and that was where the key was. So, we headed over to the bank, opened the box, and found three grand in cash and that letter and picture of my biological mother. Go ahead and read it.”
Frowning, he did so, and she knew the exact moment he came across the mention of the Russian mob. His expression grew hard and violent all at the same time, and when he lifted his gaze she wanted to back away.
“I thought it was a joke,” she whispered, shaking her head helplessly. “Both Scout and I couldn’t believe how fucking gullible this Heather chick must’ve been. I mean, people who are in the mob don’t actually talk about being in the mob. It had to have been a stupid story some sleazebag player made up to get in her pants. That was the only thought I gave it before forgetting all about it.”
“This guy with the aviator glasses—”
“Marco Polo Scorpeone.”
Rude stared. “You gotta be shitting me.”
“His few friends call him Polo, and his vast ocean of enemies and people in the business call him Scorpio. He said I could call him Polo if I wanted to. I don’t.”
“You did have a nice chat with him.” Giving the letter one last look, he stuffed it back in its envelope, then got to his feet while pulling her up with him. “Did this Marco Polo asshole say what the fuck he wanted with you?”
“His boss is some guy named Borysko… something. Vitaliev,” she said
with a snap of her fingers. “That was the name. Borysko Vitaliev. Scorpio said this guy was my father, that he wanted to see me, and that whatever the Russian dude wants, Scorpio makes sure he gets it. And then he let me go and told me that he would see me in twenty-four hours.”
“He let you go?”
“He had a hold of me right from the beginning this time around. Otherwise I would have run like I did before.” She looked down at her wrists and was vaguely surprised to see they weren’t braceleted by finger-shaped bruises. “I tried to get away from him several times—I even headbutted him, but all I did was knock those stupid glasses off his face and break my shoe heel when I tried to impale his foot with it. But I’m fine,” she added hurriedly when the alarming look on his face finally sank in. “See? No bruises. I’m fine.”
“He touched you.” The words sounded stifled, because he couldn’t seem to get his jaw unclenched, and the fury tightening his face made her heart skip a beat. “He scared you. He put his hands on you and made you struggle, and still he wouldn’t let you go. That fucking cocksucker… Jesus H, I will fucking end him for this.”
Oh, shit. “Please, please just forget about it, Rude, okay? This man…I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s incredibly dangerous.”
“So am I.”
She didn’t like the way he said that. At all. “No one is like this guy. He’s… it’s like you hear his voice, and you know he doesn’t have a soul. I don’t have any proof, but I think he’s one of those button pushers you hear about.”
He blinked, and she was relieved to see the desperate rage ease out of his eyes as confusion took its place. “Button pushers?”
“Yeah, like when someone wants a person to be dead, this Scorpio guy is the one who pushes the button and makes that person dead. A button pusher.”
“A button man, baby.” At first faintly amused, his expression once again became a mask of barely restrained violence before he pulled her into his arms, tucking her face into his neck so she couldn’t see him. “My little Sassy was scared by a fucking dirty hitman. Bastard. That motherfucking bastard. Goddamn it, I will fucking kill that piece of shit with my bare hands for daring to fucking touch you.”
They needed a change of subject, pronto. “I don’t even know what you’re doing here now. Did something happen at work? Are you okay?”
“The cameras, baby.” He took a couple deep breaths, which seemed to help calm him, and he let her lift her face from the side of his neck so she could look up at him. “The moment you started tearing the place apart, I was alerted. But I have to admit, the last thing I expected was to see you packing a bag.”
“I was going to try to keep the danger away from you.” And the crazed violence that kept whipping up in his eyes made her think that maybe her first instinct had been the right one. If he thought he could tangle with the likes of Scorpio and the Russian mob just because he was pissed off, his life expectancy was going to fall to absolute zero. “I thought if I left, you wouldn’t wind up like Liam. But then I remembered how much I love you, and that you’re worth fighting for, no matter what, and that was when I realized I could never leave you. You’re my whole heart, and I can’t live without my heart. But I do understand if you want to leave,” she added, forcing herself to say the words. Each one left bloody, gaping holes in her soul, but she had to let him know the door was wide open if he wanted to go through it. “You didn’t sign up for this hot box of crazy shit, so I would understand if you decided I’m not worth the trouble and you—”
He shut her up by capturing her mouth with his, and the leashed fury of it was conveyed in the way his lips ground into hers. He kissed her like they were enemies, like it was the last kiss he’d ever have and he was furious about it, like he wanted to forever brand the feel of her on his lips. When he raised his head and allowed her to breathe, her mouth pulsed with the frantic beat of her heart, and she felt like she was the one who had been branded.
“Don’t you ever say that again,” he growled, and the dangerous sound made her shiver. His furious gaze swept over her, and it was so hot she could feel every place it touched. “I told you that I love you. That’s not just when times are good. I love you even when the storms are raging and the wolves are howling at the door. I love you especially then, because I know I can be your shelter in that storm, and I can keep those fucking wolves at bay. You just have to trust me.”
“I do.” Then she smiled, though she hated herself when she felt it tremble. “I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m ready to fight for you, because I know you’re worth it. I just hope to God you still think I’m worth it, too.”
“You once told me the things you love about me,” he said, and his tone was so fierce it was hard to believe they were talking about love. “Now it’s my turn. I love that you fit your name. I love that you’ve been stronger than everything life has thrown at you. I love how you love the people in your life, and that you’re loyal to them no matter what. I love that you gave me another chance and didn’t hold my dipshit teen years against me. I love that I’m the only man you’ve ever trusted enough to sleep with. I love that you think I’m worth fighting for. I. Love. You. And I will tear this fucking world apart if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.”
Her heart overflowed with so much warmth it brought tears to her eyes, but that last part made the fear surge up once more. “Please don’t do anything stupid, Rude. If anything happened to you and you left me alone in the world, that would break me, do you understand? I wouldn’t want to keep going without you.”
He made a sound deep in his throat. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“I’m just telling you how it is. So you have to be smart about how you play this, okay? Keep us both alive and together. Please.”
“Okay, baby.” He gave her one last squeeze before stepping toward the door, his hand coming to curl around hers. “That reminds me. If we’re going to play things the smart way, we need to make the first step.” With that, he tugged her out of the bedroom and into the now-wrecked living room, stopped in front of the clock on the wall and pulled her close to his side.
“Aviator glasses has a name,” he told the clock, making her eyes widen. “Marco Polo Scorpeone, aka Scorpio, possibly a regular guy, or possibly a hitman. He works for a man by the name of Borysko Vitaliev, who might also be a regular guy, or he might be a high-ranking member of the Russian mob. Needless to say, be careful how you look into these guys. We have less than twenty-four hours to put something together.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Incoming.
Rude read the text sent by Havlik, and glanced over at Sass. She was doing what she always did—carrying on despite the weight of the world crushing down on her. Her blog’s theme for the upcoming week focused on holiday meals, from appetizers to main courses like turkey, goose and ham, to desserts. She’d chosen to tackle the desserts first and was currently working on a complicated layered pumpkin cheesecake in the kitchen. She’d been up at the crack of dawn after a restless night, and had already done an apple cake drizzled with salted caramel by the time he’d come out of the shower. He’d watched as she photographed it in the morning light made that much brighter by a layer of snow that had fallen overnight.
They’d had coffee together while he discreetly monitored his phone, but there was no way he was going to get anything past her. She insisted she had a right to know what was going on since it was her problem and not his, and that had pissed him off. Even now, she was still seeing the world as hers and his, but not theirs.
He understood she’d pretty much been on her own throughout her formative years. He understood she was probably wired to think like she was alone. But it was time she understood she needed to do some rewiring.
“Any news?”
His attention swung back to Sass, who’d come to statue-like stillness at the kitchen’s counter, her dark eyes anxious, her delicate elfin face almost gaunt it was pulled so tight with stress. Seeing her like that filled him with jaw-
knotting fury, and the image of twisting Scorpio’s head from his neck and stomping it into red mush once again flared in his mind.
“Havlik’s here,” he said not untruthfully, and tucked his phone into his pocket as he headed for the door, grabbing up his coat as he went. “Stay inside, okay? Don’t even go out into the hallway until I come back. Our twenty-four hours are up, so I want to make sure you’re kept out of reach, got it?”
“Rude, I’ve been think—”
“Sass, I need you to tell me you understand, and that you’re going to play it smart.”
“But—”
“That’s what you wanted from me, and I gave that to you. Now it’s your turn. You’re going to tell me that you’re going to play it smart and do as I say. Otherwise, you’re going to force me to stay in here and sit on you so you stay safe, instead of going out and taking care of business. And trust me, sitting on you is not what you want me to do.”
Her lips compressed before she nodded and headed around to where he stood. “Fine, I’ll play it smart. No going out of the apartment. But you should know right here and now that I’m not some docile little chick who’s always going to do what she’s told. This is a one-time deal, pal, so enjoy the zero-pushback while it lasts.”
“Sassy.” He grinned at her mildly miffed tone, and it felt so good he chuckled before he reeled her in for a kiss. The moment her lips melted against his, the tension that had been gnawing away at his insides evaporated, and for a few perfect moments everything fell silent. Then he felt his phone vibrate with another message, and he reluctantly let her go. “Don’t you worry, Sassy Pants. I know you live up to your name.”
