by Evie Monroe
She gave me a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Yes! We watched TV!”
I gritted my teeth and made a mental note to have it out with him next time I talked to him. We’d gotten along well the last time I dropped Alena off, but if he kept doing pea-brained things like this, things that were against my explicit wishes, we’d have to have a talk.
Obviously, he didn’t care. We’d had this argument before.
Maybe I shouldn’t bring it up, I thought as I began cleaning up the mess. Maybe he’d done that for a reason. Maybe he was waiting for me to do something wrong with Alena, so he could bring up Zain and add fuel to the fire. And what a fire that would be. Talk about explosive.
I decided that I should just let it lie. Wait until things blew over.
Sighing, I went down the hall to start up the bath. As I turned the faucet for the tub and put the stopper in the drain, the doorbell rang.
Perfect.
Switching directions, I went to answer it, noticing that Alena was now writing her name—or at least, trying to write her name, she got the N backwards—on the wall in red paint. “Stop that!” I shouted, picking her up and holding her on my hip. Paint now splattered across the front of my blouse.
“You’re a little beast, you know that? A cute—but lethal—little beast!”
In response, she took her paint-covered finger and drew a red line on my face. I pushed her hand away, then swooped down and yanked open the door.
And I might have died right there.
Standing in front of me, looking as stunned as a big, strong badass, was Zain.
Chapter Seventeen
Zain
Well, fuck me.
The whole sight in front of me was one big mindfuck. Sasha, standing in the doorway of her apartment over this shitty Chinese restaurant in the worst section of town, with a curly-haired little tot on her hip, covered in what looked like blood.
Inhaling, I smelled the stench of paint, mingling with the scent of Chinese food, wafting up from downstairs. So that explained away why they were covered in red.
But it didn’t explain the kid. “This little one yours?” I asked, reaching over to touch her hand.
The little girl took one look at me and started to scream bloody murder.
Sasha put her down and the girl ran off into the apartment, still screaming. “Yes. Her name is Alena.”
I could’ve said something about how I didn’t know she had a kid, but as I watched her looking helplessly down at the puddles of red all over the place, I realized I didn’t know Sasha that well, either.
She was a mom.
Now, looking at her, at the warmth in her eyes, at the way she looked at the kid like it was her favorite thing on earth, I saw it. Of course she was a mom.
Before I could say anything, something in the kitchen made a sizzling noise and her eyes widened. “Shit!”
She ran into the apartment, leaving me in the doorway. I took a few steps in. Either she was in the midst of a really weird redecorating project, or that little stinker had gotten the place good. There were red fingerprints on almost every surface. I moved around it carefully, trying not to get any on my boots and make it worse.
I found Sasha over the kitchen sink, throwing some noodles through a strainer. It smelled like something had been burning. “You’re good at burning shit, ain’t ya?”
She scowled at me in response.
“Need help?”
“I’ve got it!” she yelled, as I checked the stovetop. Looked like burned dinosaur nuggets and macaroni and cheese. She ran to the fridge and grabbed a tub of margarine, ignoring me.
The little girl started to scream, “Mommy! Mommy!”
Sasha rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Her lips moved, but she didn’t say anything. She may have been saying a silent prayer. So she’d take God’s help, but not mine? She must’ve really hated me.
I set my helmet down on a counter and walked down the hallway. A light was on in the bathroom. When I got there, I peered in. The little kid was inside, staring at the tub behind a rubber-ducky shower curtain, which was starting to overflow.
I reached in and twisted the knob to turn it off, then gave the little kid a smile.
She screamed even louder than before and backed up flat against the wall.
Funny. I had that kind of reputation with most kids. I’m not sure what it was that made me scare the shit out of them, but I’d been fine with it. Never really cared about them.
I held up my hands in surrender and backed away, nearly stepping on Sasha, who was storming down the hallway like a bat out of hell.
“What did you do?” she asked, suspicious.
“Nothing. I . . .” I pointed to the tub. “You almost had a big problem. I turned off the water. So sue me.”
She looked at the kid, who was still letting out this scream like a fire alarm. “Alena. Zip it,” she growled, looking at me. “As you can see, I’m busy at the moment.”
“That’s why I asked you if you needed help.”
She sighed. “Yes. Mental help. But nothing you can give me right now. I have to bathe her and feed her.”
“If you take care of the bath, I’ll get the food on the plates,” I said, heading toward the kitchen.
She paused for a moment, and then called, “Zain!”
I turned to see her peeking her head out the door. “I don’t have enough for three.”
“That’s okay. I already ate,” I lied, giving her my lady-killing smirk that I knew would make her rue the day she never texted me back. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you. I just want to help. Okay?”
It wasn’t totally true—obviously, I wanted what was inside those tiny panties—but I could put that on hold for now. A touch of a smile appeared on her lips. “Okay. Thanks.”
She went back into the bathroom while I headed to the kitchen. The kitchen was small and outdated, with old beige appliances, but from the homey little touches she’d put there, it was clear a woman lived here. Unlike my place, which hadn’t seen a woman’s touch since my mom died.
And, judging from the finger paintings proudly displayed on the fridge, it was also clear a kid lived here.
No wonder she hadn’t wanted me anywhere near this place. Even if she only had joint custody, a kid wasn’t something a person could easily hide.
I found two plates and put the food on them, then grabbed a couple of glasses. “What do you two drink?” I called.
“Oh. Milk for her, in the princess sippy cup . . . water for me, please,” she called over the sound of her kid splashing and giggling in the tub.
I had it all set out for her by the time the little girl appeared, wearing a princess nightgown and wet hair. She looked a lot cuter, now that she wasn’t covered in paint.
Sasha said, “Now Alena. I want you to eat your food, and then go to your room. I don’t want you setting foot in the living room until I get it cleaned up.”
“Yes, mommy,” the little girl said, running to the table and climbing onto the chair. She frowned at the dinosaur nuggets. “They’re black.”
Sasha came to the table still wearing her blouse and skirt, her work outfit I assumed, splashed with red. Her straight hair fell in her face and her eyes were dull with fatigue. She slumped into the chair and ordered, “Just eat it and don’t complain.”
The kid pouted and sunk into her chair. She picked up one of the nuggets and banged it against the plate. Then she pouted and stuck out her tongue at me, the stranger. “I don’t like this.”
“Drink your milk and eat,” Sasha said flatly, nudging the sippy cup toward her as the girl shoved an entire nugget into her mouth. She chewed slowly, disgust on her face.
Then she grabbed a napkin and spit the mouthful into it.
“Okay,” she said to Alena, who was still poking the food with her fork. “Just a few mouthfuls of mac and cheese and I’ll let you go.”
The little girl shoved in a couple mouthfuls, and said, “Ice cream?”
Sasha sho
ok her head. “Sorry. None left.”
The little girl’s brows tangled together as she considered her options. “Can I go play, please?”
Sasha nodded. “May I. All right. But in your room. I put your Barbies under your bed, if you’re looking for them.”
Alena jumped from her chair and went into the hall, still glaring at me.
When she was gone, I grinned at her. “I don’t think your girl likes me very much.”
She shrugged. “Can you blame her? You’re about ten times her size. If I were her, I’d be scared, too.” She lifted the plates and dropped them into the sink. “Don’t you like kids?”
“Don’t know. I never knew any.”
“Well, I figured you didn’t. You don’t exactly seem like the fatherly type. Which is why I didn’t tell you about her,” she said, leaning against the counter and yawning. “Really, it’s fine if you want to leave.”
“If I wanted to leave, I would’ve left already,” I said to her, standing up and walking beside her. I grabbed a nugget, shoved it in my mouth, chewed a couple times, and swallowed. “You think I care? I’m easy-going. I can usually put up with a hell of a lot of shit.”
She shrugged. “First of all, my daughter’s not ‘shit’, and I don’t need someone to ‘put up’ with her. She’s a lot more important to me than any relationship I could possibly have right now. So if you’re just tolerating her in hopes that once I put her to bed, you’re going to get a little booty call . . .” She gave me an oh well! look. “You’re out of luck. Because I’m not doing that with her here. Even when she falls asleep.”
I laughed. Even though I would’ve loved to get in her pants right then, I wasn’t some freak who couldn’t keep it in mine. “Jesus. I’m so glad you think so much of me.”
“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t been with anyone since the divorce was final,” she said, looking down at her lap sheepishly. “Over a year ago. So I don’t know how these things work. But I never told you about Alena because I thought I didn’t have to. I thought we were just a one-night stand.”
“That ain’t fair. We’ve been together twice, now. And I’m here again. You’re the one who didn’t answer my texts.”
“I had a good reason not to!” she said, turning on the water and shoving the pots in the sink. She grabbed the dishwashing soap and squeezed it out onto the dirty dishes.
I stood up as she angrily started to scrub them and leaned on the counter next to her. “You gonna tell me what it is?”
She gave me a scowl. “I think you should already know.”
I raised my eyes to the ceiling, thinking. “Nope. No clue.”
She scrubbed so hard bubbles flew between us. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How can you talk about fairness when you’ve been lying to me?”
My eyes narrowed. “I’ve never lied to you.” I motioned to the pot. “You keep scraping that thing you’re gonna end up with a hole in the bottom of it.”
She noticed what she was doing and rinsed it off, then dropped it in the drying rack. “So you’re going to deny that you know my ex-husband?”
That was something I hadn’t expected. Whatever words I’d planned to say to her died in my throat.
“Your . . .what?” It suddenly dawned on me, just who she was talking about. “What’s his name?”
“Viktor.”
Fuck. Well, now it all made sense. Except the part that put Viktor and Sasha together. Other than accents, they had nothing in common. That big shit had been with my hot girl? Fuck. “Are you telling me that big ugly fuck is your husband?”
“My ex-husband. Did he hire you to spy on me?”
I was still trying to process the two of them together when she threw that accusation at me, taking me completely by surprise.
“What? No. Fuck. I didn’t know you two were together. Honest, Sasha. The first time I saw you was when you came to The Wall. And I met him for the first time a couple days after that.”
She eyed me closely, as if she didn’t believe me. “So you’re saying it’s just a coincidence? How do you know him?”
I dragged my hands down my face. “He works with the club I belong to. That’s all. Yeah. It’s a coincidence.”
Her unforgiving glare didn’t waver, like she was waiting for me to crack. She looked a little like her ex-husband, completely emotionless.
Maybe I should’ve had a flash of pride, knowing I’d fucked the hell out of Viktor’s ex-wife, but instead, all I felt was angry that he’d had her before me. A picture started to leak into my mind . . . the two of them together. But it quickly fell apart before it could materialize. Sasha was way too passionate, and Viktor? He was like a wall. Hell, I couldn’t picture them together.
Alena squealed in the other room. “So let me get this straight. Viktor is your ex, and . . .” I motioned down the hall.
She nodded. “Yes. He’s Alena’s father. We share custody.”
Holy fuck. I stared at her, trying to get it through my head. Because something about it didn’t seem right. Sure, they were both Russian, but that was where their similarities ended. That that humorless, emotionless fuck could be married to beautiful Sasha, and the father of that cute, tiny little kid?
No. I wouldn’t be able to get that through my head. That ugly son of a bitch couldn’t have been that lucky.
Chapter Eighteen
Sasha
I watched him trying to process the whole thing, and one thing hit me, as clear as day: He wasn’t lying. He really didn’t have any idea that I’d been married to Viktor.
They’d worked together. All right. That was fine. Viktor said he had a lot of associates. But I had the feeling whatever Zain’s business was, it might not have been strictly legal. So, what, exactly, was Viktor up to? He’d always been so closed-off about his business dealings. All I knew was that it was his family business, he traveled a lot, and that he made deals with various clients. He called it consulting. Consulting on what? I didn’t know.
Truthfully, from the way he’d dressed to the people he kept company with, I’d often gotten the feeling that he was involved in the bratva. “Your club works with them? And what do they do?”
He stared at me for a long time, hands on his thighs. It was about the same response I’d have gotten from Viktor, all the times I asked him.
I threw up my hands. “It’s illegal?”
He nodded. “Technically. We lift cars. We sell them at a premium to a contact overseas, who ships them to Russia for us.”
I listened to him, all the while shaking my head. That sounded dangerous. And one thing that asshole had told me, when I had asked him what he did for a living? That it wasn’t going to put Alena in danger.
“And what does Viktor do, as part of this scheme?”
“His job is to ensure that nobody fucks with his associate overseas, and that business keeps running smoothly.”
“And so if someone gets in the way and starts fucking with his associate? What does he do to them? He doesn’t just talk to them, I take it?”
Zain crossed his thick arms over his chest. “You’re asking if he kills people. He does. From what I understand, he’s a hit-man.”
I staggered backwards, feeling for the chair. When I found it, I sank into it, leaning over and burying my face in my hands. Viktor, the man I’d known almost my entire adult life . . . was in the business of killing people. I’d had the suspicion it was something like that, but now that it was out . . . I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But most of all, I wanted to rip Viktor’s fucking head off.
Consulting, my ass. He was a contract killer.
I blinked, trying to understand. My daughter’s father killed people for a living. He’d murdered people to put food on our table. “Oh, my God.”
How could Viktor keep this from me? He said he was taking care of me. Was he really? Killing people to provide us with a life? That sounded so backward. So foul.
Zain knelt down in front of me and tried to take my hands away. “Hey.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I agree, it’s fucked up.”
My eyes flashed to his. “And you do it, too? You kill people?”
He frowned and let out a really long sigh. “Not often. But I carry a gun, mostly for protection. I would if I had to. This isn’t a fucking fairy-tale, Sasha. There are people in this business that want to do us harm. I wouldn’t hesitate to defend myself or anyone who came after my family.”
“Your family? You have a family?”
“Yeah. My brothers. From the club. That’s all I have. Anyone I care about. They’re good people.”
I scoffed. “How good can they be in a line of work that kills people?”
“It’s kill or be killed, pretty lady.”
“So these men would harm us, too? They’d harm Alena?”
He pressed his lips together, then shook his head. “My men? No. Viktor’s crew? I have no idea.”
“So what is he doing for you? He’s taking care of your dirty work, killing people that are getting in the way of your business? Why can’t you take care of it yourselves?”
“We’ve tried. Believe me. We have. The Hell’s Fury have been giving us shit for the better part of a year, now. They started out wanting to take our business, but when we put the brakes on that, they went out for our blood. They’ve been messing with all of my brothers. We retaliate, get ahead, and they regroup and come back, even stronger than before.”
I sighed, then looked around at the mess. There were red footprints on the linoleum in the hall, reminding me of the mess that waited for me in the living room. This was just perfect. I didn’t think my life could have possibly gotten more screwed up. “He can’t know about us, you know.”
He nodded slowly.
“Even though it’s over. He can’t know.”
He gave me a doubtful look. “It ain’t over.”
