Page 39 of Devious Corruption

Okay, he’s not ready for a conversation yet.

Instead of answering me, he hits a button on his phone. A man answers on the first ring.

“I have her. Put the men back on the brother’s place. And send over an envelope with fifteen to the captain’s house with a box of the chocolates his wife likes.”

“You got it, boss.” The man responds.

“Did you just pay off the police?”

He cuts off the call and turns down my street.

When he doesn’t answer me, I reach for the handle. “Just let me out here.”

“No.” It’s a hard sound, like a hammer hitting the top of a nail.

He parks the car in the only open spot on the street, easily maneuvering into the spot with a parallel parking skill I could never possess. Which reminds me.

“My car is still at my brother’s apartment.”

“It will be returned by morning.” He turns off the ignition and pockets the fob.

Before he’s reached the front of the car, I’m out and on the sidewalk. When he gets to me, he grabs hold of my arm, spinning me to face him.

“I’m going first, give me the keys.” He puts his hand out, as though I will simply hand them over.

“Lev.” I sigh his name, too tired from all the energy wasted on tonight’s events to fight him. “Thank you for helping me tonight. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to pay you back for the money you spent, but I will. But you’re?—”

I’m speechless as he snatches my bag from me, yanking it free of my shoulder and reaches inside, quickly finds the keys and shoves the bag back at me.

When he gets to the inside door, he stops. His back tenses as he inspects the lock. It’s busted. Has been for months.

After muttering something to himself in Russian he yanks the door open and holds it for me to enter before him. But before I can put one foot on the steps, he’s in front of me again, already searching our surroundings.

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t live in that bad of a part of town.”

He flashes another annoyed glance as he rounds the top stair and heads toward my apartment.

“You’re right. That shithole of an apartment your brothers live is worse. I don’t want you going there again.” He jams the key in and twists, throwing open the door to my apartment as Marion runs out.

Before I can grab her, he scoops down in one motion and snatches her up by the scruff of her neck and brings her eye level with him. Sure she’s going to scratch his eyes out; I lunge forward but he takes a step back.

“You stay in the apartment,” he tells her firmly, then brings her inside and puts her gently onto the couch. She narrows her eyes at him, but then jumps down, walks through his legs, petting his ankle with her fluffy tail and then scampering off into the bedroom.

I stand in the doorway, once again speechless. Marion has never, not once in her entire life, been anything but a raging lunatic toward men.

“How did you do that?” I ask, distracted by what I’ve just witnessed.

Silently, he walks over to me, reaches around me and pushes the door shut. Still keeping his arms around me, he bolts the lock. “Now. To deal with you.”

“Deal with me?” The shock has worn off.

Marion may have sheathed her claws, but mine are primed for fighting.

“Yes.” He walks away, shucking out of his leather jacket and laying it across the kitchen chair. “You.”

“Several things.” I drop my bag and my coat on the small table near the front door. “First, you don’t deal with me. Second how did you know where I was? How did you know I was in the police station?”

He hooks his hands on his hips, staring me down. Almost like he’s waiting for me to figure out the puzzle first.