The Hacker (Chicago Bratva 5)

Before he can shut me down, I stand, pulling the blanket up to my armpits. The towel I was originally wearing tangles around my legs and falls. “Spokoynoy nochi.” I say good night as I walk away.

“Spokoynoy nochi.” His answer is soft and full of regret.

14

Dima

“I just checked on Nikolai, and he’s fine. Bingeing Netflix. Want to go for a walk?” Natasha leans a hip against the office door frame, looking like sunshine itself. Yesterday Ravil sent Adrian here with clothes and necessities for both of us and more groceries, so at least she’s not driving me insane in that tiny t-shirt and my boxers.

Not that the halter top and short-shorts are any better.

I had Adrian bring her expensive gourmet chocolate bars, too, which made her look at me in a way that seared my insides.

It’s been two days of us being friends, which is the best and worst thing ever.

For one thing, it’s way too easy. Too comfortable. Almost like we shot past the tearing our clothes off around each other straight into the sweetest long-term marriage minus the sex.

She’s sweet as pie, doing things like making pancakes and coffee. She makes jokes and dazzles me with her quick, easy smile. She stands behind me at the computer and massages my neck with those magic fingers of hers. I had to refuse her offer for a full massage, knowing we’d be right back in the clothes-tearing territory.

I’m not even sure how I keep from going there now, except by holding onto the pain and defeat I’d felt after I let myself have her out in the mud. I keep that bite of sadness with me everywhere. Like a talisman I rub every time my gaze starts to wander over her luscious body.

Say no. Say no.

I want to do the right thing. I could tell her to go on her own. I stopped acting like her warden after our roll in the mud.

But resisting her doesn’t feel like the right thing anymore, either.

So I push back from the office chair and stand. I might as well take a break. I’m still no closer to figuring out what the FBI is after, nor what secret Alex holds, although I feel certain there’s more to him than I know. Is it about Natasha? Or the bratva? That’s the part I can’t figure out.

I shove my feet into my shoes.

“I’m so happy to have my sneakers here,” Natasha says as she pulls on her red Chucks.

“I’ll bet.” I touch her back as I reach past her to open the back door. “Heels really aren’t you, are they?”

Her laugh is chagrined, and she ducks her head. “No.”

I stop myself from asking if she’d worn them for me, as well.

Outside, the light has taken on the first color changes of sunset—an orange swath cutting across the top layer of the trees. We follow the path from the cabin that leads to the road.

It feels so natural to take her hand—so natural that I yank my fingers away the moment they brush hers, shocked at the instinct.

Friends.

Friends.

It’s my new mantra. The one I can’t seem to get my entire being on board with.

“How did you end up in the bratva?” Her question sounds so innocent; she has no idea how charged it is for me.

She catches my frown and her forehead crinkles. “I’m sorry—I’m probably not allowed to ask that.”

Hating her to be sorry, I try to cover it. “You’re not wearing a wire, are you? Do I need to search you again?”

A blush spreads across her neck, pooling in the hollow of her neck and dipping into the cleavage that’s so nicely framed by her turquoise print halter. “There’s a mud puddle back there you might use.” She jerks a thumb behind us, and I can’t stop my reluctant smile.

This is exactly what’s been so excruciating. There’s no awkwardness about what’s happened. She’s so fucking precious it bruises my heart.

“Don’t tempt me,” I mutter.

At least it’s all out in the open now. I can own my attraction, and we’ve agreed it can’t be acted on.

It’s against the rules to talk about any bratva business with anyone outside the brotherhood, and yet I know she’s asking because of what I’d confessed back there in that puddle. That Nikolai was in the bratva because of me.

“I borrowed money for...someone who needed it. I was trying to save a life.” I slide a glance her way. The warm hues of sunset pick up the red and copper in her hair, making it shimmer and glow in a halo around her.

You’re beautiful.

I manage not to say it out loud.

She is. Heart-achingly beautiful.

“I sold my soul.”

“And what about Nikolai?”

“I sold his, too.” I spot a large boulder and scramble up it, sitting on the top with my arms draped around my knees. Natasha follows.