by A. C. Bextor
Disappointment, not regret.
Fuck.
“Go to sleep,” I tell her again.
“I’ll wait for you.”
“No. I need you to do what I’m tellin’ you to do, and do it without an argument.”
Nodding, her expression morphs to defeat. Whatever she was planning, or why, isn’t going to happen.
Before making my way to the door, I hit the already dim light and the room goes dark. Once I make a move to step away, I turn back to her and she says nothing.
Realizing I’ve bested the stubborn woman, my resolve to hold back and not get involved stolen away by her drunken determination, I take my leave.
“What’s so important this shit couldn’t wait ‘til morning?”
“Well, you’re in a mood,” Vante notes, sitting at the small kitchen table like he does when there’s no work to be done
I am in a mood. If I’d have been interrupted while with any other woman here, I’d be unhappy. But being as I was with the one I wanted to so much more than to just sleep next to, I’m fucking pissed.
“You and Mia having a tiff?”
“Shut your mouth, Vante. Pissed as fuck you’d let the girls get that drunk. What the hell is the matter with you?”
“You’re not serious,” he hisses, his face hard with my accusation. “First, drunk or not, you ever try to tell Cricket what she can or can’t do?”
He has a point, but I’m not in the frame of mind to care.
“Well, let me tell you. Mia drinking is ten of Cricket,” he rambles on, nowhere close to accepting blame. “Not to mention, El. She’s a magnet for dick.”
“She’s blitzed,” I punish. “They were gone three fuckin’ hours, and she’s so drunk she’s ready to throw down.”
“You think?” he flips back. “I had to hold her in my lap. And believe me, El, Mia is a fuck of a lot stronger than she looks.”
My jaw clenches as I grind out, “Say again?”
“You’re shittin’ me,” he sneers at my reaction. “I had no other choice but to keep her with me. Mia considers every goddamn person on this earth a friend.”
“Stop talkin’,” I fume.
He doesn’t. Rather, he continues with his frustration, “The fuckin’ sharks circled all goddamn night.”
I stand quiet, willing myself to calm: to erase my thoughts of Vante holding Mia in his lap. As I attempt this, Vante shakes his head and downs a hard pull of beer.
“You didn’t see them,” he continues once he swallows. “Those girls, my fucking God. They drank, talked, railed on about any-fucking-thing.”
This, I’m sure is true. I just still don’t care.
Growing more agitated with what’s out here, when I know who and what waits in my room, I charge, “Why the fuck did you have Blaze call me out here?”
All heads turn when Abram Wiles steps his way into the kitchen, wearing his standard, black designer suit and tie.
Abram stands as Vlad Zalesky’s right-hand man. He’s good people as far as I’ve ever known him to be. Abram also has the same view on this sick, twisted world as I do—with one difference. He believes in God. I don’t.
He’s loyal to this family and their business, though. And that speaks volumes about his character.
Abram’s expression is blank, as he takes a quick glance to Vante with me standing at his side.
Two thoughts cross my mind. Neither is good.
One, he could be here to collect Mia. Russian business may have been handled and she’s safe. Thus making her stay with us over.
Or two, he’s here to deliver news—likely bad, considering anything good could have been discussed over the phone, or at the very least, waited until morning.
As soon as the Russian guard, Gleb, walks in behind Abram with another man I recognize as the younger man, Rueon, I figure the bad news is on its way.
Fuck.
“Elevent,” Abram addresses, all business.
“Abram,” I return with curt nod. “Somethin’ we can help you with?”
I don’t offer a seat, as these men aren’t here for social visit. I don’t offer a drink, either. It’s well after midnight and they aren’t invited to stay.
Abram clears his throat before glancing to each of my men, now filing in one by one at my back.
Leglas, coming up first, clips, “Someone call a midnight meeting?”
Sty utters something under his breath. When I turn, he’s holding Sunny, whispering in her ear before kissing her temple. She grants a concerned nod to the group and turns to head back up the stairs.
“Seems the snag we predicted has started to unravel,” Abram starts.
“The snag?” comes from Vante.
“The complication,” Abram clarifies.
“And this would be?” Leglas pushes.
“Toby Meyer is raising holy hell.”
“That pasty-ass college pussy?” Sty asserts. “Who gives a fuck?”
“You’re shittin’ me,” Leglas sneers. Turning in a small circle and lifting his head to the ceiling, he regrets, “Should’ve broken his face when I had the chance.”
“You can’t do that,” Abram sternly warns. “Toby, for now, isn’t to be contacted, touched, or harmed.”
Not without consequences, he means. However, if Vlad wants Mia protected, I would assume we’re to do this in the way we see fit. And I may enjoy watching Leglas make good on his wish.
“What’s zipper face doin’ to cause a stir?” Leglas questions.
Rueon smiles. Seems he finds our situation funny. I don’t. I want to go to bed. Even if it’s only to sleep next to an intoxicated woman, whose sole purpose in life is to drive me nuts.
Squaring his shoulders, Abram set his eyes to mine and informs, “Toby contacted Myra. He’s is demanding you release Mia.”
“That I release her?”
Abram doesn’t hold to my interruption. “He says if you do, he’ll forget all this happened.”
Fucking seriously?
Sty’s unusual temper hits the room. “I left a bed with my naked woman in it to listen to you tell me that rich punk is pitchin’ a fit ‘cause he thinks we have somethin’ he wants?”
“Obviously, you won’t release her,” Abram rebuts with a devious smirk.
“No, we fuckin’ won’t,” I seethe in return.
“Interesting,” Abram knowingly replies and my eyes narrow.
“So what now?” Vante queries.
“Vlad will handle Toby on this matter. And Vlad asks you not allow him inside, near Mia, again.”
Leglas cottons on to his unsaid accusation and states, “He wouldn’t have been here had Mia’s sister not run her mouth and told him where she was.”
“Noted and already addressed,” Abram assures.
“Good. So you come all this way to explain that?” I weigh in.
“Not exactly,” he replies, shaking his head. “We have found that Toby Meyer may, or may not, be linked to some rather disturbing complications.”
“What other complications are we talkin’?”
“He’s dangerous.”
“That college bitch is dangerous?” Leglas laughs and does it hard. “To who?”
Abram steals a glance at my VP and tenses before telling the room, “Mia.”
Vante stands. Sty growls. My body tenses. Leglas’ laugh abruptly stops.
Common sense prevails to Abram and he suggests, “Perhaps we should talk, Elevent. Alone.”
Shaking my head, I advise, “No need. Angel’s not going anywhere, and as you can see, Vlad made the right call. The men here will watch her.”
“No more outings,” Abram shakes his head curtly to order.
“Well, word about tonight got around fast,” Vante pushes.
“It did,” Abram assures. “And though before it may have been okay, however, until we get this sorted, she needs to stay out of sight. At least stay out of more questionable establishments.”
A bar is a questionable establishment. Funny.
Fucking Russians.
“So, then you know the kid was here?” Advay puts in.
I hadn’t seen him join the party, but then again, Advay is quiet and careful. It’s possible no one did.
“He came to our gate, demanding to see Mia. We let him in; he was made a fool. Took off after,” he finishes explaining.
“Yes,” Abram replies. “We learned this too.”
“He comes back, he won’t walk out on his own two feet,” Advay insists.
Abram’s lips thin. “He must be left alone. It does not do us good to put down a threat without vetting it to see if there’s another attached to it first.”
Russian code for let’s see where Toby Meyer will lead. Have to hand it to the mob; they’re thorough, if not crazy.
“Abram,” a woman’s voice sings from the last step of the stairs.
The men part ways, giving Mia room to step between them. As if she’s done so a thousand time; she stops when she reaches my side. Her arm wraps around my waist at the back, the other settling along the front. She leans her head to my chest and smiles up—first to Abram, then to me.
“Good to see you again, Mia,” Abram greets; then lifts his gaze to mine.
I shake my head, wordlessly advising to leave well enough alone.
Mia’s standing in my arms, dressed in only my shirt. She’s barefoot, her still damp hair is fucked three ways to Sunday, and she’s swaying in place. He already knows she’s been out tonight.
“Again,” Abram touts then looks down to utter, “Interesting.”
“We finished here?” I clip.
At my tone, Mia’s head comes off my chest and she turns to the men throughout the room. Once satisfied with whatever’s on her mind, her focus falls back to Abram.
“We’re done,” he agrees. “I see you have other, more attractive, matters to attend.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she replies. “You’re not staying for a drink?”
“He’s not,” I answer in his stead.
“Vante, don’t we have a bottle of vodka behind the bar?” she turns his way to question. “Russians drink vodka, am I right?” She searches Abram for approval.
Abram steps forward, grabbing a soon to be flustered Mia from my hold. He squeezes her hands, kisses one cheek then the other, all while managing a straight face.
“I’ll go get it,” she offers, pulling from him to come back into my arms. “You can stay and we’ll all have a drink.”
My fingers dig into her waist and she stops to share a glare. Sty coughs to fight a laugh and Advay clears his throat. Vante has nothing to say. Apparently he’s had enough of drunken women tonight.
The lines around Abram’s eyes wrinkle as he smiles at Mia and calms, “I’ll tell your sister you look well.”
“Why wouldn’t I be well?” Mia quickly queries back. “Am I not supposed to be? Did you come here to see if I was still well?”
Bending my neck, I whisper, “Settle, Angel,” into her ear.
Unfortunately, her alcohol-soaked brain continues with, “I mean, tonight I got to sit on a bike. A big one. A Harley. I made new friends. Hank and Runner. I’ve—”
“Your hands are full,” Abram counters her rambling to me on a wink.
“His hands sure as fuck are,” Leglas draws out slowly. “And to think, Mia wasn’t to be touched.”
“All women are meant to be touched,” Abram whispers, watching Mia do as I say and settle. She burrows herself back into my side with a small smile. “But a woman knows who she’ll allow to touch her and who won’t. Seems your ‘Angel’ has found her way to you for good reason.”
“We’re done,” I clip, thinking how Abram and Pyke must be cut from the same romantic cloth. That or they read the same fucking toilet paper.
“We’ll be in touch soon,” Abram commits then turns to his men.
The crowded kitchen quickly thins, leaving only Angel, Advay, Sty and myself.
Leglas must have already gone and I hadn’t heard him leave.
Sty steps from his place then makes it to where Abram just left. He crosses his arms over his chest and rests his hip on the kitchen counter.
Advay stands at my side, surveying Mia closing her eyes in my arms.
“You think Zalesky’s got this, really?” Sty questions, his jaw tight. “We’re already spread thin. We don’t have time for idiots gone rogue.”
“No way Vlad’s gonna take kindly to Toby actin’ out,” Advay notes. “Not when he’s dealin’ with all his other shit.”
“Probably right,” Sty returns. “But I’d like some reassurance.”
Thinking of dealing with our own shit, I question, “We hear anything back from Tyrant?”
Sty shakes his head. “Nope. I sent word we need a meet but he hasn’t returned it.”
No good.
“With Zalesky matters heating up, we need to keep our shit tight. Send another word,” I direct. “This time, send it with meaning.”
Advay clues in with full understanding. “We’ll push what leverage we have. We threaten to out him to Arrows, he’ll come.”
“Do that,” I instruct. “We treat him well, pay him good. He needs to get us information, and soon, or we’re cuttin’ him off.”
“On it,” Advay clips, turning to leave.
“You believe him?” Sty queries once the room is clear.
“About Toby being dangerous? I believe if Vlad says he is, then he is.”
“Not about that,” Sty corrects, glancing with kind eyes at Mia leaning her cheek against my chest. “About a woman knowing who to trust.”
Not this shit. Not this late. Not this time. And sure as fuck, not from Sty.
“We’re not havin’ this discussion—”
Looking at Mia, Sty interrupts on a smirk, “Fuck, but your man is an idiot.”
Angel’s head lifts from my chest, and I tense.
“He’s not an idiot,” she hastily whispers, digging herself closer to me if that were possible.
Sty coughs a laugh as I hold her weight in one hand and think of punching him with the other.
“I believe him, El,” he decides. “He may be a Russian businessman, who talks out his ass, but somewhere in all this mess…” he points to Mia before he says, “…this really was supposed to happen.”
When he’s finished, I look down. Angel’s giving me all of her weight; her tired eyes are once again closed. Leaning her body into mine, she’s trusting I won’t let her fall.
“Somethin’ to chew on,” Sty clears his throat to tell me. “I’m headed back to Sunny. Need help with her?”
A quiet snore breaks from Angel’s mouth. I don’t know whether to thank God himself for knocking her out, or be pissed at Lucifer for missing my chance tonight.
“I got her,” I tell him, deciding to side with Lucifer.
Fuck, but this woman is pushing to be the death of me.
My eyes open to mostly dark. With my arm thrown around a narrow waist, my cheek is pressed against a very warm and very hard chest. A heavy hand cups my ass beneath my panties. The neck of an oversized tee rests below my chin. For the most part, I’m dressed.
I’ve always been a heavy sleeper. Myra used to chastise that if the house were on fire, I’d stay in blissful slumber as the fireman carried me out. Now, being in this bed with Elevent, so comfortable and secure, I can’t find sleep at all.
Figures.
Earlier, after waiting as long as my impatience would allow, I opened the door to Elevent’s room and glanced down the long hallway. Barefoot, tipsy, and still aroused, I trekked down the stairs and stopped when I heard voices from the kitchen. I didn’t approach. Instead, I stopped around the corner and stood as quiet and still as I could be. Some voices I recognized. Some I didn’t.
There were some hushed, harsh whispers. Then some arguing. Elevent’s tone gave way to his annoyance.
I knew Abram was there. And I hadn’t seen him since I left the mansion. It was then I realized how much I missed hearing h
is promise of my safety, so my legs propelled me forward.
Abram smiled, kissed my cheeks, and squeezed my hands. Something was working behind his dark eyes. Something was happening. Something full of meaning. And I missed it.
Why was he here?
I close my eyes and listen to Elevent’s steady breathing—his heart pounding its fixed rhythm against my cheek.
The only light in the room glares directly over the bed. I look up to find the moon’s beam focused on Elevent. His eyes are closed, his hair disheveled, and his lips are drawn tight. Even in sleep, he appears restless.
This is when I remember.
Last night comes back with a screaming vengeance.
Shit.
The bar.
The men.
The drinks.
The drive back to the club.
The piercing sounds of our giggles.
Again. The goddamn drinks.
I remember being carried, yes, carried to my room. I can’t remember why I argued with Elevent in the hallway. But I do remember why I argued with Leglas, and that was because he was being a big fat jerk.
I’d spent all evening with a small group of Elevent’s friends, learning about them with each conversation passing between us. I tried to understand the way they live and why, so easily, they all came to be together. Their friendships, all different between one another, but for one purpose. To live free and happy, away from the lives they once had.
Then the kiss. I remember the kiss.
Even in my tired, blurry state, my lips burn remembering how Elevent’s felt against them. Sharp and rugged, but all the same warm and inviting. My stomach flutters, grasping at the memory and hoping to frame it to mind.
Then later, everything Elevent said.
Have you ever had a man fill you?
My face flushes. I don’t need a mirror for proof. I feel the heat in my neck, spreading up to my cheeks and down my chest.
If they don’t find a woman for their bed, they’re gonna fuck their fists thinkin’ of you.
My eyes slam shut. The desire to explore without interruption comes without mercy. I know I shouldn’t, this bed is not my place, the man in it not mine. But for the life of me, I don’t care. We’re here alone. And this could be my only chance.
