Page 28 of Hunt Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #1)

B ristol

Exhaustion settled into every muscle, hovering over me like a thick blanket.

I’d taken even more precautions while heading to Josie’s house, the small but quaint home located in a decent yet more rural section of the city.

The key had been exactly where she’d mentioned and I’d felt comforted she’d left a light on in her kitchen.

Once inside, I’d checked every lock, closed every blind, and had remained in the dark listening for any traffic sounds, still fearful I’d been followed.

After thirty minutes, I’d finally felt secure enough to head to the guest room. At least I had a few days of solace if needed, time to think this through.

I glanced at my phone and gritted my teeth. I’d taken a few minutes to surf the internet. There were dozens of articles on the family and Dmitriyev Enterprises. Most from the last several years were glowing reports of success and philanthropy.

There were a few vivid photos of major events in their different resorts, including photographs taken with celebrities and sports figures, major corporate moguls and politicians from well beyond the state of Nevada.

There were also pictures of the different brothers, cousins and their playboy lifestyles. Including Mikhail, a larger-than-life figure who commanded every space, every human being with his good looks and animal magnetism.

At first, I’d felt curiosity in learning more about him. Then I’d felt jealousy he’d been photographed with some of the most beautiful women on the planet.

It had taken me shifting through twenty full pages on Google to find the darker, seedier side of the family and his operations.

Old articles had indicated acts of violence so heinous that what I’d stumbled on had been nothing more than bullies beating up a scrawny kid on the playground.

Most of those centered around Boris Dmitriyev and his brother, Ivan from twenty years before, but to believe the family and their corporation was now completely legitimate was bordering on ridiculous.

They’d likely just become more cautious and underhanded in their business dealings.

Plus, if they were like every other crime syndicate, they’d blackmailed or bought off various officials.

Maybe that’s why my father was so keen on opening a commission and why he wanted my investigative skills.

He’d known Lilia had been my roommate and had never said anything.

My head shot up. Had he somehow manipulated who I’d roomed with on purpose?

The thought left my brain foggy and a lump remaining in my throat.

I continued reading, my analytical mind attempting to put together reasons Sergio had been murdered. Revenge was always a possibility. Purposely starting a turf war was old style. Without additional information, I’d never be able to piece together a plausible scenario.

Maybe I could handle some investigations of my own. Was that crazy to think I could solve the man’s murder? Absolutely. But at this point, I was already involved.

For better or for worse.

Over the years, there’d been accusations tossed from different law enforcement agencies.

But I couldn’t find a single time there’d been a single arrest. Yet in the few frantic minutes of searching, there was no mistaking Mikhail was dangerous.

Whether he used violence or connections, he wasn’t a man to be toyed with.

The two men I’d caught a glimpse of inside the Russian’s house weren’t common criminals either. They’d been there to kill the man in question. Later, I’d see if I could piece together if there’d been other murders.

Right now, I needed a shower.

Maybe I needed a CAT scan instead. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking clearly if I was doing so at all.

I tossed the phone onto the bed, heading into the bathroom and stripping off the dirty clothes. But not before seeing the spots of blood on my pants from where I’d wiped my hands. This was such a nightmare. Thank God, I was safe here.

Fortunately, I had enough clothes I wouldn’t need to return to the apartment for a few days. My main goal was to try to convince Callie to stay with Jason. I’d tackle that in the morning.

The rest would come with time. I was sensible. I was fearless.

Yeah, right.

I shivered as I stepped into the shower, wishing the blaring television had the ability to drown out the noise of my thudding heart. I’d remained lightheaded since seeing Mikhail on television.

Everything was such a mess. I stared at my hands, finally realizing I still had some blood on them.

I was mess, incapable of thinking clearly or focusing on anything.

All I wanted to do was to come clean, and not just physically.

I laughed at the thought. Coming clean would mean the end of my career before it even started.

Images of the dead man even in the dark weighed heavily on my mind.

As the hot water cascaded across my skin, I moved under the large showerhead, keeping my eyes closed as I prayed the blood would wash down the drain.

How could I have been so stupid? I tried to remember what the dying man had said, but not understanding Russian, I could barely remember any syllables let alone say the words out loud.

A ragged chuckle left my mouth as I reached for the soap. Emotions were finally catching up with me. Not only had I behaved entirely differently than I’d ever done before, but I’d also managed to find myself involved with a leader of the Bratva.

Instead of the tickling sensations that remained a complete betrayal, I should feel anger as well as fear. Anger for the situation. Anger for my ridiculous desire. Anger for my father. Anger that I’d been stupid enough to walk into a house uninvited.

Furious that I’d lost myself all sense of self regard, embarrassing myself with a man I’d known better than to become involved with. Even for a single night. What did they call the leader of the Russian crime syndicate? Ah, yes. I’d learned the term in law school. A Pakhan.

I grabbed the scrubby ball and the shower gel, pouring more than enough.

As I started scrubbing my body, I allowed the fear to creep in.

There was no doubt Mikhail Dmitriyev was a dangerous man, but how far would he go to discover if there had been a witness?

How far would the killers go to discover who’d interrupted their killing?

What had Sergio been trying to tell me? I was certain it was extremely important, maybe trying to tell me who’d killed him. Nothing made any sense and I seriously doubted I’d find any answers tonight. Honestly, I wanted to forget if only for a little while.

It was impossible not to think about Mikhail and the way he’d made me feel. So alive. So beautiful. His words alone had seduced me, let alone his touch.

His kisses.

The way he’d taken care while requiring my surrender.

Images flashed into my mind as well as a moment of sadness. One thing was certain. I could not allow myself to fall prey to the man ever again.

Why did the man intrigue me so much?

Why had I felt so free when I’d been with him?

I continued scrubbing, allowing the loud sounds coming from whatever horror movie I’d turned on to facilitate easier breathing.

When I’d scrubbed every inch, I planted my palms against the shower wall for a few seconds, finally able to focus more clearly than before.

There was no real question about what I needed to do.

Go to the police and help with the investigation.

First, I would need to talk to my father, forcing him to understand this wasn’t some political tool for him to use. I also didn’t want to ruin him.

But I needed help. I could avoid the horrible situation only for so long.

After turning off the water, I waited for a few seconds before grabbing a towel.

As I stepped out, I noticed my reflection in the mirror.

I’d left the door open so there was only a small amount of steam on the glass.

I dried off, almost succumbing to tears.

That wasn’t going to happen. I was much stronger than that.

I wrapped the thick terrycloth around my chest, shoving in the corners before taking a step toward the counter.

I wiped the mirror with my hand, staring at my reflection.

My eyes appeared haunted. I’d never been through anything like this in my life.

The girl staring back at me was somehow different, as if the bubble her life had been protected by had just popped.

I was no fool. However this played out, my life would be in danger.

I dropped my head, controlling my breathing. Doing the right thing no matter how much danger I’d place myself in was all I could do. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself otherwise. A man had died. Murdered. A single sob left my throat.

After leaving the light on, I headed into the bedroom, stopping immediately. Hadn’t I left a light on? A cold shiver trickled down my spine as I swept the room with my eyes.

Click.

When the television shut off, I yelped, backing away from the screen.

A light was flicked on by the bed, immediately drawing my attention. I blinked several times before I registered what I was seeing. As soon as I did, a knot formed in my stomach.

“Hello, Bristol. Are you happy to see me?” His seductive voice was entirely different, this time nothing more than a dark growl.

One of hunger.

One of rage.

And one of possession.

Mikhail.