Page 15 of One Dark Kiss (Grimm Bargains #2)
FIFTEEN
Alexei
T he woman glares at me and stomps to the worn picnic table.
Don t touch anything, I say. She rolls her eyes, steps up on the seat and plants her fine ass on the top of the table. While I like the act of defiance, I do note that she keeps her hands together and in her lap. She hasn t actually left her prints anywhere.
What exactly is your plan here? she asks, her voice calm even though her pupils have widened. I admire that she hasn t gone into shock yet.
We have to get rid of these clothes. It will take Garik at least an hour to arrive, so I was partially joking about getting her naked, although an hour is a good amount of time I m happy to fill with her.
She shakes her head, looking lost on the barren table. You didn t have to kill all three of them.
Unfortunately, I did. If I had been alone, I probably would ve kept one of them alive long enough to get some answers, but with her there, I had to strike swiftly.
She draws in air, her face pale and her wide cherry lips trembling. Who do you think is trying to kill you?
I look back toward the barely there road through the trees. It could be any number of people. She crosses her arms and then rubs her shoulders as if trying to get warm. You can put the leather jacket back on if you want. I smell rain on the wind, but it s still fairly warm out.
She shakes her head. No, I m not cold. It s just a reaction. Did you recognize any of the three men?
No. I lie easily. There s no need to get my lawyer involved any more than she already is. Since the crime is finished, you also can t say anything, I remind her.
She swallows and her chin lifts. I don t know about that. I m actually a witness.
You re here as my lawyer, I say. She swallows again, as if nervous. We re at a bit of a stalemate, but I can t relent. In fact, this entire evening is covered by attorney-client privilege. I have no idea if that s true or not. A warning of thunder sounds in the distance and darkness begins to fall.
She shakes her head again as if trying to deny reality. Don t you think we should let the police know that somebody s trying to kill you?
I cross my arms. The police don t care if somebody s trying to kill me. How much does she know about my family? You do understand the four social media companies and the strength of each family behind those, correct?
She nods. Yes, and I know how the crystals charge the servers. In fact, I understand that the four families have been in power through generations, centuries, and kingdoms.
I wonder where she learned that. It had to be from either Alana or Ella.
I hadn t realized they were close enough for them to reveal secrets we ve all vowed to force into silence forever.
I wonder how much I should tell her, but she does need to properly defend me, and she also has to understand the world she s now entered.
What do you know about the Russian Bratva? I ask.
Her head jerks up. Why? I just stare at her, waiting for an answer.
A light pink filters across her cheekbones, and I m pleased the color is returning to her face.
I have no doubt her temper will arrive swiftly.
I like that about her. Again, I don t like that I like that about her.
Why do you want to know about the Russian mob? she asks.
I sigh. The headquarters for the Russian Bratva is in Russia, of course. However, there are several contingents, shall we say, scattered throughout the world. Until I went to prison, I led one of the strongest ones.
She blinks once and then again. You re in charge of the Russian mob? she blurts out.
I don t exactly like to hear it put that way, but close enough. I nod. At least the local contingent, which of course includes most of the United States.
She gulps. So what happened when you went to prison?
My brother took over. It was probably a combination of my brother and his mother, but I believe all of the soldiers answer to Hendrix.
Her gaze flicks to the quiet forest and then back. Were those men Russian?
Yes, I tell her.
She nods. So your brother s trying to kill you.
It s possible, but this would also be a good time for anybody in the organization to make a move. Hendrix could be in as much danger as am I right now.
Thunder sounds again, and she rubs her shoulders. I think if somebody is trying to kill you that we should at least alert the police. Don t you?
No, and that s my final word on it, I say softly.
She looks down at her hands, and her shoulders visibly tense. I have blood all over me. Leaping off the table, she stomps toward the creek, her little heels sticking in the soft ground as she goes.
I watch her bend down and remove all the blood from her hands and one of her wrists, taking note of her position the entire time. Finally, she stands after having scrubbed her hands a deep pink.
Irritation clocks through me, and I ignore it.
She walks slower this time, back to the table to sit. I wait until she has settled herself and then stride over to the water and kick any rock she may have touched to the middle of the creek. I learned a long time ago that being paranoid isn t necessarily a bad thing.
Returning, I note that color has returned to her pretty face, yet she s still rubbing her arms. Would you like to put the jacket on until Garik brings us clothing? The jacket is marred deep red, which is why I had her remove it.
No, she says. I don t.
The woman reminds me of a cranky kitten. Cute with claws. I lope her way and then also sit on top of the rough wooden table.
I m sure you at least knew one of those men, she says quietly.
I m not discussing this with you.
Her nostrils flare as she visibly fights her temper. I like that about her. I shouldn t, but I do.
Her hair flies into her face, and she pushes it away. I m an attorney, Alexei. As such, I m uncomfortable with even the thought of working for the, well, the mob.
I understand that concern. The mob has always existed, and getting rid of it is impossible since the organization is woven into society. Somebody has to lead it.
But you break laws.
That s true, but I m trying to fix some of that. The life isn t an easy one, but having protection in place is mandatory for my peace of mind. Where are we on getting my funds released? I change the subject.
She took several calls while we studied my case file. In fact, she partially dictated a brief in favor of her motion to release my funds while also organizing files at the same time. The woman is impressive.
The hearing s set for tomorrow morning, she says. I believe your stepmother is going to contest the motion. Otherwise, we wouldn t even need a hearing.
Is my presence required? I keep my senses tuned to our surroundings.
She glances over at my jeans and shirt. Yes, but only if you can find something nicer to wear. I need the charming Alexei and not the killer. Can you manage that? Her sarcasm is amusing.
I expect her to be angry and in shock after the violence at the warehouse. This spunk and the obvious intelligence she s shown all day have been a surprise. I underestimated her when she visited me in the jail, a fact for which I am actually grateful. I require a smart mate.
I hear an engine first and then the crunch of tires on gravel, so I push myself away from the table and withdraw the gun from the back of my waist. Garik s battered truck soon comes into view, and I relax, dropping my arm but still keeping a grip on the weapon.
He pulls to a stop near the firepit and jumps out of the old Ford with a backpack slung over one shoulder that he tosses to me. I catch it easily with one hand as he reaches back into the vehicle and emerges again with a long box of matches and an impressive can of accelerant.
I reach into the backpack and draw out sweats and a sweatshirt to toss at Rosalie. All your clothes. I mean everything.
She glares at me, gives Garik a look for good measure, and then pushes off the table to stomp toward the tree line. Amusement takes me again. Damn, she is likable, whether I appreciate that fact or not.
I yank off my shirt and kick out of my boots, jeans, and boxers before pulling on a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of ripped and worn jeans.
You have to get rid of the boots? Garik asks. Those are fine.
Again, paranoia is a good thing. Yeah.
I didn t bring you shoes, he says, wincing. I m sorry.
No worries. You brought socks. I tug out socks to cover my feet. I never considered how fortunate it is to have a friend or a best friend or an only friend about the same size as me. I m taller than most.
He squirts the accelerant onto the clothing and then flicks a match. Flames instantly rise.
Rosalie emerges from behind the trees and strides gracefully toward the fire to throw her bloody clothing into the flames. I note a pretty pair of pink panties with a matching bra before the fire engulfs them. I need to buy her new clothes after this.
I look down at her feet. The shoes too.
She takes a step back. No way. These are my favorite kitten heels. I got them on discount. I ll wash them really good when I get home.
If I can get my funds released, I ll buy her all the kitten heels she wants. Whatever the hell a kitten heel is. Now, Rosalie, or I ll take them from you.
Garik wisely takes a step away from her before squirting more accelerant onto the fire. We all know not to get between a woman and her shoes.
He chews on his gum and blows a loud bubble.
Rosalie visibly jerks. Fine. She leans down and tears off the dainty heels to throw onto the fire, her face flushing and her lips pressed tightly together. The cute shoes land in the middle of the flames and instantly begin to curl and burn.
Garik sprays more accelerant, and we all take a step back. He blows several more bubbles, and the scent of mint competes with the smoke for just a second.
Rosalie jerks again and looks away. My instincts rise. Something is up.
The fire is warm and has definitely reddened her cheeks.
Her long black hair falls down her shoulders, and she looks like a lost kitten in the oversized clothing.
She rolled Garik s sweats up several times to her ankles, and while it appears she attempted to roll the sweatshirt sleeves up, they keep falling down. The top hangs nearly to her knees.
Now what? She looks down at her bare feet.
I reach into the bag and pull out another pair of large gym socks. Put these on. I hand them to her.
She doesn t argue this time and instead bends over and puts the socks on, pulling them up past her knees and then letting the sweats fall back down. All right, socks on, she says, her voice snippy. What now?
I catch a glimpse of amusement on Garik s broad face. He shrugs and then looks away as if not wanting to get involved, popping his gum several more times.
Rosalie visibly flinches again and then looks away.
What s up with you and gum? I ask.
Nothing, she says, her voice low.
I look at Garik. Pop your gum again. He does so, and while she doesn t jerk this time, her ears turn red. Rosalie, what s wrong?
She shakes her head. It s stupid and you wouldn t understand.
I understand more than you think. Do you have some sort of gum phobia? The smoke has obliterated the minty smell already.
Her chin jerks up, and she looks at me before rolling those spectacular eyes.
No, I don t have a gum phobia. She kicks at a pebble that rolls toward the fireplace.
I have something called misophonia. It s a fight or flight reaction to certain sounds, usually mouth and nose sounds. Most people don t get it.
Garik looks at her. You mean like when you re at the movie theater and someone crunches their popcorn behind you? That drives me crazy, too.
She nods. Yeah, kind of like that, but it s different.
Like telling somebody who suffers from OCD that you also wash your hands a lot and thinking it s the same thing.
That a guy crunching ice by you at a restaurant is annoying.
For me, it s like getting stabbed in the solar plexus.
She hunkers down even more in the overlarge sweats, looking fragile.
Most people don t understand or even believe me.
There s an institute now in California, and they re studying the condition.
I can t explain misophonia any better than that.
No nose sounds? Garik asks. You mean like sniffing?
Yeah. Sniffing puts me through the roof. She sounds vulnerable, as if she s giving us a weapon to use against her. Maybe I should tell her what the plans are for her future, but probably not with Garik here.
All right, I say. I ll take Rosalie to claim her vehicle at her law firm and then meet you at the bar, Garik. Don t leave until the clothing is nothing but ashes. I need to know more about the three men I just killed, and hopefully Garik will have some information.
He squirts even more accelerant on the fire. Sounds good.
I grasp Rosalie s arm through the thick cotton. Are the socks protecting your feet enough? I can carry you.
She jerks free and pads toward the motorcycle. Not a chance.
Cute. Definitely cute. She grabs the waistband of the sweats to keep them up, obviously trying not to trip over the bottom that has now unraveled.
Infinitely fuckable. For the first time in much too long, I anticipate a future. A good one. In doing so, I make a mental note to ban all gum chewing in my organization from now on.