Page 57 of Ruthless Rustanovs

IT was very late by the time Nikolai made it home and he didn’t expect anyone to be waiting for him when he walked in the front door. But soon after stepping across the threshold and flipping on the lights in the foyer, the useless dog came trotting up to him, tongue hanging out.

Despite having just met him a few hours ago, the dog seemed happy to see him.

Nikolai glared at his unwelcome guest and tried to step around her, but the dog got in front of him again. And when he tried to dodge, the dog only followed him, nudging him with her square face before dropping to the floor and showing him her belly.

Nikolai didn’t have much experience with dogs, but even he could understand the message this one was trying to convey. The price for getting by unimpeded by her large body was a belly rub.

Maybe because he was tired and weary to his very bones, Nikolai bent down and gave her two short slapping pats on her pink belly.

But perhaps the dog wasn’t as dumb and useless as he’d previously thought, because she once again flipped over as he stood back up, negotiating her head into his palm so he was forced to pet her again.

Then came more head nudges, the greedy dog all but placing the back of her ears underneath his fingertips.

Nikolai scratched her behind the ears because—well, he didn’t know why exactly.

At first he did it to get her out of the way, but then a calmness stole over him.

The more he scratched, the more the events of tonight loosened their angry hold over him.

And the more the dog rubbed her large head against his palms, the more human he felt.

Not like a ruthless killer, but like a man who’d done what he’d had to do to keep his nephew safe.

The only thing he had left of his brother.

A strange pain settled in his chest at the thought of Fedya, and he saw his brother, once again lying on that slab. Those Russian drug dealers had disposed of him like a piece of trash, and they would have done the same to Pavel, if he hadn’t—

Don’t think about it, he told himself.

“Go to bed, dog,” he said to the dark grey canine, who he had half a mind to rename Useless. “No more petting. Get out of my way.”

The dog must have understood he was no longer in the mood to indulge her, because she slunk away into the dark living room as if she knew she’d gotten all the petting from Nikolai she was going to receive that night.

The dog’s unexpected greeting had lightened his mood, but only for a little bit.

He was completely numb again by the time he stepped into his glass and marble shower.

And as he watched the blood of the Russians slide off his body and down the tub’s drain, he could sense his father’s ghost like a heavy cloud hanging over the bathroom.

Nikolai’s inability to feel any emotion but grim satisfaction regarding what he’d done that night called forth his ghost as sure as if Sergei were still alive.

Alive and still showing up at his mother’s apartment commanding Nikolai to come with him, as he had often throughout Nikolai’s teen years.

The last time he’d come had been only a couple of nights before his mother’s death, for what Nikolai had known would be a very messy business if he needed more than one gun to handle it.

To Sergei’s credit, he’d never come back after his mother died.

As Nikolai got out of the shower and dried himself off, he could also feel his dead mother’s eyes on him. Scared for him. But too scared to say anything to his father.

Nikolai’s bones ached with both the memories and exertion of killing eight men with only a silenced gun, a wire string, and his bare hands—which wasn’t as easy as it looked in the movies.

Sergei had kept himself in excellent shape all the way up until his sudden death, and the reason for his dedication to staying fit was evident in the soreness Nikolai felt now despite his superior size and muscles.

After his shower, Nikolai threw on a pair of briefs—the only thing he ever wore to bed, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. It was late. Very late. And he had to work the next morning.

But he couldn’t make himself get into bed. There was a specific need tugging on him, as sure as a finger pulling on a toy’s drawstring. Instead of going to the bed, he threw on a heavy cotton robe with the Polar’s angry bear mascot emblazoned across the back of it.

He needed to see the boy and the woman now sleeping under his roof.

Make sure they were safe. It was a stupid compulsion.

Stupid and unnecessary. There were no Russians left alive to get past his security system.

Every threat against the boy was now dead in the basement of a strip club, awaiting the arrival of Tetsuro Nakamura.

But nonetheless…

Only two of the top floor bedroom doors were closed and he walked down the hall to the larger room on the left, as quietly as he could.

His thought had been to check on the woman first, and then the boy, but to his surprise, he found the boy in the larger room, looking like a Russian prince in all the red, gold, and ivory opulence as he snored softly.

He didn’t appear to have a care in the world, and for a moment the numbness inside Nikolai’s chest was pierced by a strange ache.

He would protect this boy, he vowed as his heart iced back over. No matter what it took. He wouldn’t let him turn out like Fedya.

With irritation he thought of the woman who’d insisted on coming here with Pavel, The judgmental look she had given him when he’d told Pavel not to cry.

Fedya had been weak like that, coddled by his mother and mostly ignored by Sergei—which was close to a kindness on the enforcer’s part.

Nikolai could remember Fedya sniveling into Natasha’s side much the same way.

So Nikolai had corrected him. And Samantha McKinley had reacted to his words like he hit the boy, like he was worse than the men those women came to her shelter to escape.

Like he was the exact opposite of her cop boyfriend.

Bristling with remembered indignation, Nikolai crossed the hallway to her door and put his hand on the knob. He wished he could tell her just how far he’d gone to ensure his nephew’s protection that night. How he—not her cop boyfriend—had taken care of the threat against both of them—

“No! Please don’t. Please don’t!”

Nikolai’s heart stopped beating. The words came from inside the room and were followed by a distinct sob.